This was on the Tuesday edition of the ST, for those who might be interested. j'aime la vie Yesterday, appreciate; tomorrow, anticipate; today, participate. In all, Celebrate! A candle forJanice American Janice of our acquaintance formerly taught in thePhilippines, then married a Filipino who worked for Eastman Kodak in Rochester,New York. They acted as guardians (anorganizational and functional category) to a social movemental force I was anactive member of in the 70s and the first half of the 80s, operating out ofChicago, Illinois. We performed as aglobal servant (word used intentionally rather than the neutral “service”)force in human (economic, political, and social) community development. The group labored under a high intensity of social engagement foralmost three decades, then organizational inertia and entropy set in, but thegroup had enough selfhood that when it realized its meeting its own body needsreplaced its passion for its mission, it intentionally dissipated out of beingwith the same lucidity as it did in its own analysis of the rise and decline ofother organizations that preceded it. Itwas called Order: Ecumenical, for those of us who thought it was revolutionaryto be oikumene when others wereparochial in their religious orientations. Of course, being ecumenical grew old and irrelevant so fast that itis just as well the group disbanded. I’ve used the word “intentional” in two paragraphs now. A global network of "those whocare" (nebulous but real) intentionally remained in touch while eachexpended one’s self in one’s own burst of light – into “a thousand light”, inelder George Bush’s imagery. The group’sprogram arm was actually referred to by the GOP of Orange County in UScongressional record as “communist”, so the group’s dissipation into numerouslights in essentially GOP terminology, is more descriptive rather thanideological. Janice and I exchange messages in a common listserv we are a part ofonce in a while, on the state of our being as well as our vocation. Slightly older than I am, she has just joineda few of my colleagues in bouts with chemotherapy. As has become customary in the last threeyears, I light a candle on my ledge to lift up the facticity of those in mycircle of acquaintances continuing to be treasured and celebrative presence onthe planet even in the midst of battling the onerous challenge of cancerouscells. I lit a candle for the late Ruth Tighe of Saipan, the honored mavenof local commentators, until she gloriously downed her last swig ofScotch. She once commented that Ieulogized her exit too early. Sheoutlasted her Doctor’s prognosis a few years longer. She once bought me lunch at a new health foodrestaurant, driving to the place with her oxygen tank in tow. In her retinue, imminent death had no dominion. Our current five now includes Janice of New York joining four othersfrom Seattle, Maui, Sydney, and Saipan. Specific as to who the candles represent, taken as a whole, they manifest our relationship to those considered by society to be“differently-abled” (including the "handicapped"). Being father to two autistic children, the act of regularly lightingcandles are personally of deep significance. Janice’s forte is music and the arts, and a colleague offered for herthe lyrics to Cris Williamson’s Song ofthe Soul, metaphors of the heart in a song. It turns out to be a song sung by an intentional community out ofSeattle that was a result of my group’s thousand light bursting. Part of the lyrics are: Love of my life Iam crying I am not dying, Iam dancing Dancing along inthe madness There is nosadness Only the song ofthe soul Chorus: And we'll singthis song Why don't yousing along Then we can singfor a long, long time Why don't yousing this song Then we can singalong Then we can singfor a long, long time For those who follow our reflections, they would not be surprised tosee us latch into Williamson’s imagery (which, we gather, may have been derivedfrom a Walt Whitman poem). I am not dying, I am dancing, fits thesentiment of one of our candle persons who went through chemo for nine monthsand is prone to say, “why are folks afraid to talk about dying?” That, and a small dynamo we know down Sydneyway two-steps us to the great dance that is life! As a former Methodist clergy, one could say that we have had ourshare of sending off personages into the great unknown. While grief is a legitimate response to thereality of death, I used to conduct funeral services not for the dead but forthe living. I did not hesitate to remindmy audiences that the reason we grieve is not primarily for the departed asthat the parting reminds us too vividly of our mortality. It is the affirmation of our finitude that iscelebrated in the completion of a life! The song for Janice is also a song for all our lives. j'aime la vie Yesterday, appreciate; tomorrow, anticipate; today, participate. In all, Celebrate!
Thanks Jaime. Another touching commentary. I'm dancing too. Herman On Tue, May 21, 2013 at 5:51 AM, Jaime R Vergara <svesjaime@aol.com> wrote:
This was on the Tuesday edition of the ST, for those who might be interested.
j'aime la vie
*Yesterday, appreciate; tomorrow, anticipate; today, participate. In all, Celebrate!*
*A candle for Janice* * * American Janice of our acquaintance formerly taught in the Philippines, then married a Filipino who worked for Eastman Kodak in Rochester, New York. They acted as guardians (an organizational and functional category) to a social movemental force I was an active member of in the 70s and the first half of the 80s, operating out of Chicago, Illinois. We performed as a global servant (word used intentionally rather than the neutral “service”) force in human (economic, political, and social) community development.
The group labored under a high intensity of social engagement for almost three decades, then organizational inertia and entropy set in, but the group had enough selfhood that when it realized its meeting its own body needs replaced its passion for its mission, it intentionally dissipated out of being with the same lucidity as it did in its own analysis of the rise and decline of other organizations that preceded it. It was called Order: Ecumenical, for those of us who thought it was revolutionary to be *oikumene *when others were parochial in their religious orientations.
Of course, being ecumenical grew old and irrelevant so fast that it is just as well the group disbanded.
I’ve used the word “intentional” in two paragraphs now. A global network of "those who care" (nebulous but real) intentionally remained in touch while each expended one’s self in one’s own burst of light – into “a thousand light”, in elder George Bush’s imagery. The group’s program arm was actually referred to by the GOP of Orange County in US congressional record as “communist”, so the group’s dissipation into numerous lights in essentially GOP terminology, is more descriptive rather than ideological.
Janice and I exchange messages in a common listserv we are a part of once in a while, on the state of our being as well as our vocation. Slightly older than I am, she has just joined a few of my colleagues in bouts with chemotherapy. As has become customary in the last three years, I light a candle on my ledge to lift up the facticity of those in my circle of acquaintances continuing to be treasured and celebrative presence on the planet even in the midst of battling the onerous challenge of cancerous cells.
I lit a candle for the late Ruth Tighe of Saipan, the honored maven of local commentators, until she gloriously downed her last swig of Scotch. She once commented that I eulogized her exit too early. She outlasted her Doctor’s prognosis a few years longer. She once bought me lunch at a new health food restaurant, driving to the place with her oxygen tank in tow. In her retinue, imminent death had no dominion.
Our current five now includes Janice of New York joining four others from Seattle, Maui, Sydney, and Saipan. Specific as to who the candles represent, taken as a whole, they manifest our relationship to those considered by society to be “differently-abled” (including the " handicapped"). Being father to two autistic children, the act of regularly lighting candles are personally of deep significance.
Janice’s forte is music and the arts, and a colleague offered for her the lyrics to Cris Williamson’s *Song of the Soul,* metaphors of the heart in a song. It turns out to be a song sung by an intentional community out of Seattle that was a result of my group’s thousand light bursting. Part of the lyrics are:**
*Love of my life I am crying* *I am not dying, I am dancing* *Dancing along in the madness* *There is no sadness* *Only the song of the soul*
Chorus: *And we'll sing this song* *Why don't you sing along* *Then we can sing for a long, long time* *Why don't you sing this song* *Then we can sing along* *Then we can sing for a long, long time* * * For those who follow our reflections, they would not be surprised to see us latch into Williamson’s imagery (which, we gather, may have been derived from a Walt Whitman poem). *I am not dying, I am dancing, *fits the sentiment of one of our candle persons who went through chemo for nine months and is prone to say, “why are folks afraid to talk about dying?” That, and a small dynamo we know down Sydney way two-steps us to the great dance that is life!
As a former Methodist clergy, one could say that we have had our share of sending off personages into the great unknown. While grief is a legitimate response to the reality of death, I used to conduct funeral services not for the dead but for the living. I did not hesitate to remind my audiences that the reason we grieve is not primarily for the departed as that the parting reminds us too vividly of our mortality. It is the affirmation of our finitude that is celebrated in the completion of a life!
The song for Janice is also a song for all our lives.
j'aime la vie
*Yesterday, appreciate; tomorrow, anticipate; today, participate. In all, **Celebrate!*
_______________________________________________ OE mailing list OE@lists.wedgeblade.net http://lists.wedgeblade.net/listinfo.cgi/oe-wedgeblade.net
-- __________________________________________________ Herman F. Greene 2516 Winningham Road Chapel Hill, NC 27516 919-942-4358 (ph & fax) hfgreenenc@gmail.com
Thank you Jaime. Love, Nancy On Tue, May 21, 2013 at 2:51 AM, Jaime R Vergara <svesjaime@aol.com> wrote:
This was on the Tuesday edition of the ST, for those who might be interested.
j'aime la vie
*Yesterday, appreciate; tomorrow, anticipate; today, participate. In all, Celebrate!*
*A candle for Janice* * * American Janice of our acquaintance formerly taught in the Philippines, then married a Filipino who worked for Eastman Kodak in Rochester, New York. They acted as guardians (an organizational and functional category) to a social movemental force I was an active member of in the 70s and the first half of the 80s, operating out of Chicago, Illinois. We performed as a global servant (word used intentionally rather than the neutral “service”) force in human (economic, political, and social) community development.
The group labored under a high intensity of social engagement for almost three decades, then organizational inertia and entropy set in, but the group had enough selfhood that when it realized its meeting its own body needs replaced its passion for its mission, it intentionally dissipated out of being with the same lucidity as it did in its own analysis of the rise and decline of other organizations that preceded it. It was called Order: Ecumenical, for those of us who thought it was revolutionary to be *oikumene *when others were parochial in their religious orientations.
Of course, being ecumenical grew old and irrelevant so fast that it is just as well the group disbanded.
I’ve used the word “intentional” in two paragraphs now. A global network of "those who care" (nebulous but real) intentionally remained in touch while each expended one’s self in one’s own burst of light – into “a thousand light”, in elder George Bush’s imagery. The group’s program arm was actually referred to by the GOP of Orange County in US congressional record as “communist”, so the group’s dissipation into numerous lights in essentially GOP terminology, is more descriptive rather than ideological.
Janice and I exchange messages in a common listserv we are a part of once in a while, on the state of our being as well as our vocation. Slightly older than I am, she has just joined a few of my colleagues in bouts with chemotherapy. As has become customary in the last three years, I light a candle on my ledge to lift up the facticity of those in my circle of acquaintances continuing to be treasured and celebrative presence on the planet even in the midst of battling the onerous challenge of cancerous cells.
I lit a candle for the late Ruth Tighe of Saipan, the honored maven of local commentators, until she gloriously downed her last swig of Scotch. She once commented that I eulogized her exit too early. She outlasted her Doctor’s prognosis a few years longer. She once bought me lunch at a new health food restaurant, driving to the place with her oxygen tank in tow. In her retinue, imminent death had no dominion.
Our current five now includes Janice of New York joining four others from Seattle, Maui, Sydney, and Saipan. Specific as to who the candles represent, taken as a whole, they manifest our relationship to those considered by society to be “differently-abled” (including the " handicapped"). Being father to two autistic children, the act of regularly lighting candles are personally of deep significance.
Janice’s forte is music and the arts, and a colleague offered for her the lyrics to Cris Williamson’s *Song of the Soul,* metaphors of the heart in a song. It turns out to be a song sung by an intentional community out of Seattle that was a result of my group’s thousand light bursting. Part of the lyrics are:**
*Love of my life I am crying* *I am not dying, I am dancing* *Dancing along in the madness* *There is no sadness* *Only the song of the soul*
Chorus: *And we'll sing this song* *Why don't you sing along* *Then we can sing for a long, long time* *Why don't you sing this song* *Then we can sing along* *Then we can sing for a long, long time* * * For those who follow our reflections, they would not be surprised to see us latch into Williamson’s imagery (which, we gather, may have been derived from a Walt Whitman poem). *I am not dying, I am dancing, *fits the sentiment of one of our candle persons who went through chemo for nine months and is prone to say, “why are folks afraid to talk about dying?” That, and a small dynamo we know down Sydney way two-steps us to the great dance that is life!
As a former Methodist clergy, one could say that we have had our share of sending off personages into the great unknown. While grief is a legitimate response to the reality of death, I used to conduct funeral services not for the dead but for the living. I did not hesitate to remind my audiences that the reason we grieve is not primarily for the departed as that the parting reminds us too vividly of our mortality. It is the affirmation of our finitude that is celebrated in the completion of a life!
The song for Janice is also a song for all our lives.
j'aime la vie
*Yesterday, appreciate; tomorrow, anticipate; today, participate. In all, **Celebrate!*
_______________________________________________ OE mailing list OE@lists.wedgeblade.net http://lists.wedgeblade.net/listinfo.cgi/oe-wedgeblade.net
Jaime-- Beverly and I lived on Jeju at Kwan Yung Il for a full year in addition to a full year in Seoul. I have a program on Korean/Jeju prepared for a high school presentation. I'll see if it can be sent as an attachment. You may be interested in knowing there is a Government movement to take off most of--if not all of--the island to be used as a navel base. I'll see if I have anything left about this concern to share with you. Inner Peace, Bill and Beverly Salmon ----- Original Message ----- From: Jaime R Vergara To: oe@wedgeblade.net Sent: Tuesday, May 21, 2013 4:51 AM Subject: [Oe List ...] Fwd: Tuesday OpEd from Jaime This was on the Tuesday edition of the ST, for those who might be interested. j'aime la vie Yesterday, appreciate; tomorrow, anticipate; today, participate. In all, Celebrate! A candle for Janice American Janice of our acquaintance formerly taught in the Philippines, then married a Filipino who worked for Eastman Kodak in Rochester, New York. They acted as guardians (an organizational and functional category) to a social movemental force I was an active member of in the 70s and the first half of the 80s, operating out of Chicago, Illinois. We performed as a global servant (word used intentionally rather than the neutral “service”) force in human (economic, political, and social) community development. The group labored under a high intensity of social engagement for almost three decades, then organizational inertia and entropy set in, but the group had enough selfhood that when it realized its meeting its own body needs replaced its passion for its mission, it intentionally dissipated out of being with the same lucidity as it did in its own analysis of the rise and decline of other organizations that preceded it. It was called Order: Ecumenical, for those of us who thought it was revolutionary to be oikumene when others were parochial in their religious orientations. Of course, being ecumenical grew old and irrelevant so fast that it is just as well the group disbanded. I’ve used the word “intentional” in two paragraphs now. A global network of "those who care" (nebulous but real) intentionally remained in touch while each expended one’s self in one’s own burst of light – into “a thousand light”, in elder George Bush’s imagery. The group’s program arm was actually referred to by the GOP of Orange County in US congressional record as “communist”, so the group’s dissipation into numerous lights in essentially GOP terminology, is more descriptive rather than ideological. Janice and I exchange messages in a common listserv we are a part of once in a while, on the state of our being as well as our vocation. Slightly older than I am, she has just joined a few of my colleagues in bouts with chemotherapy. As has become customary in the last three years, I light a candle on my ledge to lift up the facticity of those in my circle of acquaintances continuing to be treasured and celebrative presence on the planet even in the midst of battling the onerous challenge of cancerous cells. I lit a candle for the late Ruth Tighe of Saipan, the honored maven of local commentators, until she gloriously downed her last swig of Scotch. She once commented that I eulogized her exit too early. She outlasted her Doctor’s prognosis a few years longer. She once bought me lunch at a new health food restaurant, driving to the place with her oxygen tank in tow. In her retinue, imminent death had no dominion. Our current five now includes Janice of New York joining four others from Seattle, Maui, Sydney, and Saipan. Specific as to who the candles represent, taken as a whole, they manifest our relationship to those considered by society to be “differently-abled” (including the "handicapped"). Being father to two autistic children, the act of regularly lighting candles are personally of deep significance. Janice’s forte is music and the arts, and a colleague offered for her the lyrics to Cris Williamson’s Song of the Soul, metaphors of the heart in a song. It turns out to be a song sung by an intentional community out of Seattle that was a result of my group’s thousand light bursting. Part of the lyrics are: Love of my life I am crying I am not dying, I am dancing Dancing along in the madness There is no sadness Only the song of the soul Chorus: And we'll sing this song Why don't you sing along Then we can sing for a long, long time Why don't you sing this song Then we can sing along Then we can sing for a long, long time For those who follow our reflections, they would not be surprised to see us latch into Williamson’s imagery (which, we gather, may have been derived from a Walt Whitman poem). I am not dying, I am dancing, fits the sentiment of one of our candle persons who went through chemo for nine months and is prone to say, “why are folks afraid to talk about dying?” That, and a small dynamo we know down Sydney way two-steps us to the great dance that is life! As a former Methodist clergy, one could say that we have had our share of sending off personages into the great unknown. While grief is a legitimate response to the reality of death, I used to conduct funeral services not for the dead but for the living. I did not hesitate to remind my audiences that the reason we grieve is not primarily for the departed as that the parting reminds us too vividly of our mortality. It is the affirmation of our finitude that is celebrated in the completion of a life! The song for Janice is also a song for all our lives. j'aime la vie Yesterday, appreciate; tomorrow, anticipate; today, participate. In all, Celebrate! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ _______________________________________________ OE mailing list OE@lists.wedgeblade.net http://lists.wedgeblade.net/listinfo.cgi/oe-wedgeblade.net ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ No virus found in this message. Checked by AVG - www.avg.com Version: 2013.0.3343 / Virus Database: 3162/6340 - Release Date: 05/20/13
Excellent Bill. I remember a group of us came from Oubari for a few days, the farmers were so proud of their work. Then we went to Seoul and I think NWA went on strike and we were stuck there. Or maybe that was after a HD project event near the 38th later. But have fond memories of JeJu! Great presentation thanks…. peace, ko shin, Bob Hanson N8311 County Road N, Neshkoro, WI 54960 Blog: <http://2013warriorpoet.blogspot.com/> http://2013warriorpoet.blogspot.com/ NEW BOOK: Warrior Poets:a path and a task that does not end, Published April 2013 You can order this fine book on Amazon.com or CreateSapace.com! Who says my poems are poems? My poems are not poems at all! Only when you understand that my poems are not poems can we begin to talk about poems…. Ryokan, Japanese poet Face Book: Bob koshin Hanson Tweeter: 1940oldman 920 293 8856 Home 414 234 0954 Cell skype 920 240 4325 Emily Dickinson wrote, “If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry.” “Poetry is for me Eucharistic. You take someone else’s suffering into your body, their passion comes into your body, and in doing that you commune, you take communion, you make a community with others.” Mary Karr from her 2010 interview with Judy Valente on PBS’ Religion & Ethics NewsWeekly. From: oe-bounces@lists.wedgeblade.net [mailto:oe-bounces@lists.wedgeblade.net] On Behalf Of William Salmon Sent: Saturday, May 25, 2013 4:38 PM To: Order Ecumenical Community Subject: [Oe List ...] Salmon: Korea/Jeju power point Jaime-- Beverly and I lived on Jeju at Kwan Yung Il for a full year in addition to a full year in Seoul. I have a program on Korean/Jeju prepared for a high school presentation. I'll see if it can be sent as an attachment. You may be interested in knowing there is a Government movement to take off most of--if not all of--the island to be used as a navel base. I'll see if I have anything left about this concern to share with you. Inner Peace, Bill and Beverly Salmon ----- Original Message ----- From: Jaime R Vergara <mailto:svesjaime@aol.com> To: oe@wedgeblade.net Sent: Tuesday, May 21, 2013 4:51 AM Subject: [Oe List ...] Fwd: Tuesday OpEd from Jaime This was on the Tuesday edition of the ST, for those who might be interested. j'aime la vie Yesterday, appreciate; tomorrow, anticipate; today, participate. In all, Celebrate! A candle for Janice American Janice of our acquaintance formerly taught in the Philippines, then married a Filipino who worked for Eastman Kodak in Rochester, New York. They acted as guardians (an organizational and functional category) to a social movemental force I was an active member of in the 70s and the first half of the 80s, operating out of Chicago, Illinois. We performed as a global servant (word used intentionally rather than the neutral “service”) force in human (economic, political, and social) community development. The group labored under a high intensity of social engagement for almost three decades, then organizational inertia and entropy set in, but the group had enough selfhood that when it realized its meeting its own body needs replaced its passion for its mission, it intentionally dissipated out of being with the same lucidity as it did in its own analysis of the rise and decline of other organizations that preceded it. It was called Order: Ecumenical, for those of us who thought it was revolutionary to be oikumene when others were parochial in their religious orientations. Of course, being ecumenical grew old and irrelevant so fast that it is just as well the group disbanded. I’ve used the word “intentional” in two paragraphs now. A global network of "those who care" (nebulous but real) intentionally remained in touch while each expended one’s self in one’s own burst of light – into “a thousand light”, in elder George Bush’s imagery. The group’s program arm was actually referred to by the GOP of Orange County in US congressional record as “communist”, so the group’s dissipation into numerous lights in essentially GOP terminology, is more descriptive rather than ideological. Janice and I exchange messages in a common listserv we are a part of once in a while, on the state of our being as well as our vocation. Slightly older than I am, she has just joined a few of my colleagues in bouts with chemotherapy. As has become customary in the last three years, I light a candle on my ledge to lift up the facticity of those in my circle of acquaintances continuing to be treasured and celebrative presence on the planet even in the midst of battling the onerous challenge of cancerous cells. I lit a candle for the late Ruth Tighe of Saipan, the honored maven of local commentators, until she gloriously downed her last swig of Scotch. She once commented that I eulogized her exit too early. She outlasted her Doctor’s prognosis a few years longer. She once bought me lunch at a new health food restaurant, driving to the place with her oxygen tank in tow. In her retinue, imminent death had no dominion. Our current five now includes Janice of New York joining four others from Seattle, Maui, Sydney, and Saipan. Specific as to who the candles represent, taken as a whole, they manifest our relationship to those considered by society to be “differently-abled” (including the "handicapped"). Being father to two autistic children, the act of regularly lighting candles are personally of deep significance. Janice’s forte is music and the arts, and a colleague offered for her the lyrics to Cris Williamson’s Song of the Soul, metaphors of the heart in a song. It turns out to be a song sung by an intentional community out of Seattle that was a result of my group’s thousand light bursting. Part of the lyrics are: Love of my life I am crying I am not dying, I am dancing Dancing along in the madness There is no sadness Only the song of the soul Chorus: And we'll sing this song Why don't you sing along Then we can sing for a long, long time Why don't you sing this song Then we can sing along Then we can sing for a long, long time For those who follow our reflections, they would not be surprised to see us latch into Williamson’s imagery (which, we gather, may have been derived from a Walt Whitman poem). I am not dying, I am dancing, fits the sentiment of one of our candle persons who went through chemo for nine months and is prone to say, “why are folks afraid to talk about dying?” That, and a small dynamo we know down Sydney way two-steps us to the great dance that is life! As a former Methodist clergy, one could say that we have had our share of sending off personages into the great unknown. While grief is a legitimate response to the reality of death, I used to conduct funeral services not for the dead but for the living. I did not hesitate to remind my audiences that the reason we grieve is not primarily for the departed as that the parting reminds us too vividly of our mortality. It is the affirmation of our finitude that is celebrated in the completion of a life! The song for Janice is also a song for all our lives. <http://presence.mail.aol.com/mailsig/?sn=jrvergarajr2031> j'aime la vie Yesterday, appreciate; tomorrow, anticipate; today, participate. In all, Celebrate! _____ _______________________________________________ OE mailing list OE@lists.wedgeblade.net http://lists.wedgeblade.net/listinfo.cgi/oe-wedgeblade.net _____ No virus found in this message. Checked by AVG - www.avg.com Version: 2013.0.3343 / Virus Database: 3162/6340 - Release Date: 05/20/13
participants (5)
-
Bob Hanson -
Herman Greene -
Jaime R Vergara -
Nancy Lanphear -
William Salmon