Is it
T H A T
s i m p l e:
CHANGE YOUR WORDS
CHANGE YOUR WORLD
Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm of the Day :
F I N D O U T
(say it differently)
USE FRESH WORDS
not to be heard
but experienced. . .
Garbage DISposal
Contrary to popular belief, not all good things come from above. I can attest to that from not only doing countless outside graveside services but take a look at my car and that was in a church parking lot where you think I would have some form of protection. . .
But is if that’s not audacious enough what do you do with a car that looks like that or worse a car that looks like you feel? I mean the obvious answer is go get it washed, right?
But here’s the real stumper. . . when that happens to us,
when we literally get dumped on for no apparent reason, or even just because we happen to be in the wrong place at the right time, what do we do about that? Well, often we don’t do what is so obvious; we don’t get washed off; we don’t remove it. . . in fact, we kind a carry it like a badge of honor, as if to say to everyone, “Hey, look what happened to me! Look who did this to me!” And we hold onto it like it’s a long-lost-never-gonna-lose-the-the-precious-gift-again-kind-of-treasure. Let’s let’s face it, who wants to hold onto to something that’s icky/sticky/stanky/yucky? And yet most often THAT IS EXACTLY what we do. . .
So even when we can’t predict the next INCOMING DUMPING what we might be able to predict is how we RESPOND, not REACT but how we respond TO IT. The reacting part is what we do as a knee-jerk response. It’s what we want to show everybody. It is what we want to take the full page Sunday addition New York Times ad out and say, “LOOK WHAT HAPPENED TO ME; LOOK WHAT THEY DID TO ME!” But, RESPONDING is just merely WASHING/Getting rid of the not so nice OBVIOUS MESS and literally moving on. . .Difficult, huh? No seriously, REAL DIFFICULT STUFF because we just can’t ever really seem to do not just the obvious, but the actual SIMPLY obvious. . . .
Wait. What? With NO JUSTICE or punishment to THE DUMPER?
Yeah, wow. With no apparent punishment. . . especially from the one that’ll further bog you down by assuming the roles of jury, judge, and executioner: Y O U
Now here’s the real problem we know this. WE KNOW that we know this. WE WILL BET OUT LIVES that we know this. But, but the next time we get the dumped on from something not-so-good-from-above we will act like we don’t know it all. . .
Hmmmmmmm. Who’s making the bigger MESS HERE?
(a g a i n)
KINDNESS KILLS
Kill’s with kindness
That cliche won’t buy you a cup of soup on a cold day
or a glass of iced-tea on a hot one
but it doesn’t keep
U S
from saying it over and over again
with any situation that brings us to
the gutters
of what to do
when someone
W R O N G S
US. . .
or does it
Have you ever once
felt threatened for doing an
ACT OF KINDNESS
E V E R ?
Friends and family are paying tribute to Lori Kaye, who was killed Saturday after a gunman opened fire at the Chabad of Poway synagogue north of San Diego, also injuring three others.
Rabbi Yisroel Goldstein, who was injured in the attack, described Kaye, 60, as “the example of kindness to the fullest extent.”
Here’s what to know about Kaye:
Who was Lori Kaye?
Kaye, a San Diego native, is survived by her husband, a doctor, and a 22-year-old daughter, her friend and fellow congregation member Roneet Lev told CNN.
Another friend, Audrey Jacobs, posted a tribute to Kaye on Facebook: “You were always running to do a mitzvah (good deed) and gave tzedaka (charity) to everyone. Your final good deed was taking the bullets for Rabbi Mendel Goldstein to save his life.”
CNN reports that at a Sunday night vigil for Kaye, Rabbi Goldstein — a longtime friend — said Kaye had been a kind and generous member of the congregation, giving the example of how she had accompanied a woman with breast cancer to her doctor appointments. “She went out of her way until the moment that that woman passed away,” the rabbi said.
Why was Kaye in the synagogue?
Kaye was at the service on Saturday — the last day of Passover — to honor her mother, who had recently died, Lev said. Kaye’s husband and daughter were also at the service.
Rabbi Goldstein told reporters the gunman shot Kaye in the lobby of the synagogue, before turning the gun on him and opening fire. The Rabbi lost a finger, but the shooter’s gun “miraculously jammed,” he said. The gunman fled the scene and later surrendered to police.
In the moments after the shooting, Kaye’s husband was called to help a wounded congregant and fainted when he realized it was his wife, Rabbi Goldstein added.
Lori Kaye was taken to a local hospital, but died shortly thereafter.
Who are the rest of the wounded?
Authorities said 8-year-old Noya Dahan and her 34-year-old uncle, Almog Peretz, sustained shrapnel injuries. Both have been released from the hospital.
Dahan was wounded in the face and leg. Her father Israel Dahan told ABC news that his family moved to California after facing rocket attacks in their former home near the Gaza Strip.
Peretz, who was visiting California from Israel, was hit in the leg and helped children escape through a side door, ABC reports.
Who knew that simple
RANDOM ACTS OF KINDNESS
would become an actual deadly act?
Does it change things now?
Dare we literally give our lives
to save another
without a moment to decide
what not to do
OR TO DO
in blink-of-the-eye-click-of-trigger quickness. . .
Lori Kaye, who was in the Temple on the last day of Passover to honor the recent death of her mother, just didn’t jump in front of the Rabbi and took bullets meant for him; she jumped into our hearts and began a tsunami that has washed upon shores to ever change the very geography of them; as Caring Catalyst’s we can’t reduce that to a mere ripple, a wave come and gone. . .
or
W E D O
. . .in that sad case
THEY WIN
Lori Kaye, 60, was killed in a shooting at the Chabad of Poway synagogue in California on April 27. Audrey JacobsBY CIARA NUGENT 8:22 AM EDT
The Book Room(s)
T H E Y
L I F E
is what you
M A K E
T H E Y
just may be wrong. . .
It just might be
L I F E
is what you
R E A D
When I accepted the challenge to just post 7 books that I love with no explanations, no reviews; just one picture of a cover each day for a week the problem wasn’t the ‘no explanations, no review’ part; it as trying to figure out
THE SEVEN
FULL DISCLOSURE:
I could take up the challenge for the next 52 weeks or the next 30, 52 weeks and I’m still not so sure that I’d
GET IT
right
but
I T
wouldn’t matter. . .
only the reading would!
How does this rate to fit into a video Monday Caring Catalyst blog post?
R E A D I N G
is the number one thing that’s
cleared my land
plowed my field
planted seeds
watered them
cultivated
nurtured
and finally
H A R V E S T E D
a most magnificent crop
of goodness
I could ever hope to
receive
to
GIVE
So. . .
what do you read when you read. . .
The best books I’ve ever read
have ever read me
and that’s not only made all of the difference;
it’s truly made me
DIFFERENT
(f o r e v e r)
Now. . .
for THAT
n e x t
book. . .
STAYING ALIVE
In the 1990s, some researchers observed that French people—despite eating lots of saturated fat—tended to have low rates of heart disease. Dubbing this phenomenon the “French paradox,” the researchers speculated that regular wine consumption may be protecting their hearts from disease.
A little later, in the early-2000s, evidence began to pile up tying Mediterranean-style eating and drinking patterns with longer lifespans. One component of these diets that got a lot of attention was the consumption of wine—red wine, in particular.
Even among people who ate healthy Mediterranean diets, those who also drank wine regularly and in moderate amounts—a glass or two a day, usually red and usually with meals—lived longer than heavier or lighter drinkers, some of the research concluded. One study found that middle-aged Italian men who drank up to five glasses of wine a day—almost all of it red—tended to live longer than men who drank more or less alcohol.
Almost 30 years have passed since those early “red wine is good for you” studies came to light. While some newer research on saturated fat makes the French paradox seem a little less paradoxical—that is, there’s some disagreement about whether saturated is truly unhealthy—public and scientific interest in red wine’s longevity benefits is still strong.
Unfortunately, the evidence supporting those benefits is mixed.
For example, a 2017 review in the journal Circulation found that the bulk of evidence suggests that low-to-moderate red wine consumption is good for the heart. And there’s a lot of research linking light, regular drinking—not just of red wine, but of any alcohol—to longer lifespans. On the other hand, a studypublished last year in The Lancet concluded that even very small amounts of alcohol raise a drinker’s risk for cancer and early death.
Findings are inconsistent, but researchers are searching for explanations. “It’s been hard to tease out why small amounts of alcohol seem to be linked with decreases in various diseases,” says Aaron White, a senior scientific advisor with the National Institute on Alcohol Abuse and Alcoholism. While red wine has gotten a lot of attention, he says there’s evidence that any type of alcohol, as long as it’s consumed in moderation, may confer longevity benefits.
“Alcohol could be beneficial through biological mechanisms like increasing [healthy] HDL cholesterol, affecting clotting mechanisms and blood platelets, or [having] effects on the vascular system,” says Dr. Claudia Kawas, a professor of neurology at the University of California, Irvine whose research has found that some of the oldest-living adults tend to drink alcohol in moderation.
But one of the challenges in assessing the health effects of red wine (or any other type of alcohol) is the fact that other lifestyle variables can muddy the evidence. For example, a 2006 study published in the BMJ examined people’s grocery purchases and found that wine drinkers tended to buy healthier foods than beer drinkers. If the average wine drinker eats more healthfully than most, that could explain away some of the longevity benefits linked to vino.
“It may be that the association has nothing to do with alcohol consumption, but rather with things that may travel along with alcohol consumption,” Kawas says. People who drink alcohol may simply socialize more, she offers, which comes with health benefits, and they may not have illnesses that would discourage drinking. These are all possible explanations for the link between longevity and alcohol consumption.
But there are some unique components of red wine—which are not found in other types of alcohol—that may be especially healthy.
Red wine is packed with bioactive compounds, including a number of flavonoids and phenols that research has independently tied to various health benefits. In particular, a lot of the red wine studies have focused on the effects of resveratrol, a compound found in the skin of grapes. “The concentration of polyphenols, and more specifically resveratrol, is 10-fold higher in red wine than in other alcoholic drinks,” says Dr. Adrian Baranchuk, a professor of medicine at Queen’s University in Canada and coauthor of the 2017 Circulationstudy on red wine.
Studies have tied resveratrol to improved heart health and longevity, and there’s evidence that resveratrol may combat inflammation and help improve blood health. But a lot of this evidence has come from animal or lab models, and some research on humans has failed to find any effects from resveratrol.
Still, focusing on specific red wine compounds may be missing the forest for the trees. “There are hundreds of different chemicals in alcoholic drinks, and it may well be the net effect of these chemicals as much as the alcohol itself [that provides a benefit],” says Dr. Paul Gow, a liver transplant physician with Australia’s Austin Health who has examined the research on red wine and health. Gow says red wine seems to be associated with “the most benefits.” But again, the findings are conflicting.
“It’s entirely possible that wine consumption has some added benefits,” White says. “But it’s a complicated issue, and it’s been hard to tease out answers.” At this point, he says there’s not enough data to recommend that drinkers switch to red wine—or that non-drinkers take up alcohol in order to extend their life.
“Despite hundreds of studies,” he adds, “there are things we just don’t know.”
B U T
There are things we do Know
There are things we are most certain
That no matter what we eat
That no matter what we drink
That no matter what meds we take
That no matter what Doctors we see
That no matter what therapies we try
That no matter what Medical Communities we visit
That no matter what interventions we attempt
One out of One of US
D I E S
Do you want to Live Longer?
Get Remembered?
Be a wave that becomes an everlasting-never-ending Ripple that becomes an eternal Tsunami rearranging shores and changing landscapes. . .
Be A Caring Catalyst
Be more than a pulse
Be more than an inhaled/exhaled breath
Be more than just another quickend heartbeat
Be A Caring Catalyst
Change yourself
Changes others and the World
. . .that’ll go a very long way
past the etched dates/dash
on your tombstone. . .
BE THE DIFFERENCE
Be the Difference
between
STAYING ALIVE
and
BEING ALIVE
T O A S T
to
THAT
C H E E R S
A WORTHY LIFE
What. . .
WHAT MAKES A LIFE WORTHY?
This LIFE INSURANCE Commercial
doesn’t want to make me want to buy
L I F E I N S U R A N C E
it makes me want to be a better person. . .
Life Insurance,
no matter what the cost
or the value
has ever bought
L I F E A S S U R A N C E
. . .now, wouldn’t that be
THE POLICY?
What makes a Life Worthy?
It’s not wealth
It’s not prosperity
It’s not life longevity
It’s something so much more simple
A N D
So very much more expensive
SO EXPENSIVE
no bank could ever guarantee any note for it. . .
What makes a Life Worthy
is making another’s life feel WORTHY
What makes a Life Worthy
is living a Life that makes others feel
THEIR WORTH. . .
Simple?
NO
Expensive?
EXTREMELY
Join me
Let’s break that Bank
Bet the Farm
Roll the Dice
L E T S
MAKE THE DIFFERENCE
BROKED .9
What a License Plate, huh?
We probably all could support
T H A T
Plate
because we are all
B R O K E D
. . .none of us are
U N D E F E A T E D
but all of us
has this
R E S E R V E
that makes us
U N D E F E A T A B L E
Helping the Broked
will get you
B R O K E D
chipped
cracked
sharp-edged
slivered
never-more’d
Perfectly
I M P E R F E C T E D
unmitigatedly
totaled
(almost every time)
9 9. 9% of the Time
but
roll-the-dice-gamble
Go all in
Bet your Farm
And your Neighbor’s
on the
.9%
and until then. . .
from my brokednesss
Let Seep from me
all that is good
that I may
Refill once more
(Change is always good because it often keeps, not so much THINGS, but you, me, US, fresh and alert. For the past couple of weeks I’ve added a poem I’ve written instead of a personal story that illustrates without many words what it means to be a Caring Catalyst. So, what’s the verdict. How can I not only better represent, how can I better share what it means to be a Caring Catalyst? I’m open to suggestions. Currently, I begin the week with a video that illustrates what it means to be a Caring Catalyst and how you might become a better Catalyst. On Wednesday’s blog posting, I usually put in some bit of data based information on the good effects and the how-to’s in becoming a better Caring Catalyst; On Friday, I use a personal story. Poetry was my first love and use of sharing; it was my social media in high school and college and then it was fiction. I’ll be interjecting a new format on Wednesday or Friday that includes THE POWER OF THREE as I share what I’m watching, reading, using and name this segment: BEGGAR BITES that brings home the adage: SHOWING ANOTHER BEGGAR WHERE THIS BEGGAR GOT THE FOOD. Again, I’m looking for you feedback and suggestions that you might find most helpful, educational, inspirational and motivational. In the mean time, I humbly thank you for following and most of all for being a constant source of inspiration and awe. Thank you!)
Woodcutter’s Wisdom
It’d be great to know. . .
wouldn’t it?
It’d be great to know what’s, literally,
D O W N T H E T R A C K. . .
W O U L D I T
D O E S I T
M A T T E R. . . ?
The story has been blamed on many. . .
I’ve heard it
I’ve preached it
I’ve told it
I’ve taught it
and now, now
I’ll blog it:
| Once there was an old man who lived in a tiny village. Although poor, he was envied by all, for he owned a beautiful white horse. Even the king coveted his treasure. A horse like this had never been seen before—such was its splendor, its majesty, its strength.People offered fabulous prices for the steed, but the old man always refused. “This horse is not a horse to me,” he would tell them. “It is a person. How could you sell a person? He is a friend, not a possession. How could you sell a friend?” The man was poor and the temptation was great. But he never sold the horse.One morning he found that the horse was not in the stable. All the village came to see him. “You old fool,” they scoffed, “we told you that someone would steal your horse. We warned you that you would be robbed. You are so poor. How could you ever hope to protect such a valuable animal? It would have been better to have sold him. You could have gotten whatever price you wanted. No amount would have been too high. Now the horse is gone, and you’ve been cursed with misfortune.”The old man responded, “Don’t speak too quickly. Say only that the horse is not in the stable. That is all we know; the rest is judgment. If I’ve been cursed or not, how can you know? How can you judge?”The people contested, “Don’t make us out to be fools! We may not be philosophers, but great philosophy is not needed. The simple fact that your horse is gone is a curse.”The old man spoke again. “All I know is that the stable is empty, and the horse is gone. The rest I don’t know. Whether it be a curse or a blessing, I can’t say. All we can see is a fragment. Who can say what will come next?”The people of the village laughed. They thought that the man was crazy. They had always thought he was a fool; if he wasn’t, he would have sold the horse and lived off the money. But instead, he was a poor woodcutter, an old man still cutting firewood and dragging it out of the forest and selling it. He lived hand to mouth in the misery of poverty. Now he had proven that he was, indeed, a fool.After fifteen days, the horse returned. He hadn’t been stolen; he had run away into the forest. Not only had he returned, he had brought a dozen wild horses with him. Once again the village people gathered around the woodcutter and spoke. “Old man, you were right and we were wrong. What we thought was a curse was a blessing. Please forgive us.”The man responded, “Once again, you go too far. Say only that the horse is back. State only that a dozen horses returned with him, but don’t judge. How do you know if this is a blessing or not? You see only a fragment. Unless you know the whole story, how can you judge? You read only one page of a book. Can you judge the whole book? You read only one word of a phrase. Can you understand the entire phrase?”Life is so vast, yet you judge all of life with one page or one word. All you have is a fragment! Don’t say that this is a blessing. No one knows. I am content with what I know. I am not perturbed by what I don’t.””Maybe the old man is right,” they said to one another. So they said little. But down deep, they knew he was wrong. They knew it was a blessing. Twelve wild horses had returned with one horse. With a little bit of work, the animals could be broken and trained and sold for much money.The old man had a son, an only son. The young man began to break the wild horses. After a few days, he fell from one of the horses and broke both legs. Once again the villagers gathered around the old man and cast their judgments. “You were right,” they said. “You proved you were right. The dozen horses were not a blessing. They were a curse. Your only son has broken his legs, and now in your old age you have no one to help you. Now you are poorer than ever.”The old man spoke again. “You people are obsessed with judging. Don’t go so far. Say only that my son broke his legs. Who knows if it is a blessing or a curse? No one knows. We only have a fragment. Life comes in fragments.”It so happened that a few weeks later the country engaged in war against a neighboring country. All the young men of the village were required to join the army. Only the son of the old man was excluded, because he was injured. Once again the people gathered around the old man, crying and screaming because their sons had been taken. There was little chance that they would return. The enemy was strong, and the war would be a losing struggle. They would never see their sons again.”You were right, old man,” they wept. “God knows you were right. This proves it. Your son’s accident was a blessing. His legs may be broken, but at least he is with you. Our sons are gone forever.”The old man spoke again. “It is impossible to talk with you. You always draw conclusions. No one knows. Say only this: Your sons had to go to war, and mine did not. No one knows if it is a blessing or a curse. No one is wise enough to know. Only God knows.”The old man was right. We only have a fragment. Life’s mishaps and horrors are only a page out of a grand book. We must be slow about drawing conclusions. We must reserve judgment on life’s storms until we know the whole story. |
We don’t know,
do we. . .
Is it a blessing
Is it a curse
this track
this road
this path
this way
we are on. . .
The one sure thing
maybe the only thing
is that while on the road
we travel not alone. . .
. , ,We are all on the same track. . .
just different sections of it;
so reach out and grab
H O L D
a Hand. . .
and make the
J O U R N E Y
a little easier,
a lot more enjoyable
and t h e n,
then notice
R E C O G O N I Z E
The HAND
that extends
and holds our own
Is the only hand
is the only path
is the only good and bad
is the only the happy and sad
is the only woodcutter’s wisdom
we ever need to get us down
the-not-so-easily-seen-ahead-track
that’s before us all. . .
It’s the only story that matters
and it’s not so much told
as LIVED. . .
and it’s
O U R ‘ S
Earning Your BLINK
Outrageous isn’t it?
Just another attempt and usually
a feeble one
at me trying to get a laugh
or making some idle point. . .
No. . . No. . . not this time. . .
It’s me getting inspired
While trying to inspire
At least once a week Erin goes over to our daughters house and helps with our grandkids. . .
As they pulled into our driveway to pick her up I thought would be a great idea if I would go out as a reindeer with my flashing red nose and my big antler ears just to do with every grandfather likes to do best:
make his grandkids laugh
Of course grandma Erin made this possible by buying these cheap little flashing noses and big red ears. And after getting their looks of wonderment and their laughs, of course they wanted exactly what I was wearing;
They weren’t disappointed. . .
Why
Why was this done…?
To me
everything that I love about what this Season is
What this Season represents
How the Season is really personified
not just in children
but the children each of us. . .
It’s about not so much sharing
or giving
or even receiving
But inspiring
Cultivating
Igniting
Sparking
This ever present
Never ending
Always glowing
But often hidden
LIGHT
THIS GLOW
This unfailing flicker
That exists in all of us
Desperately wanting to share
And even more desperately
W A N T I N G
to be shared. . .
It’s what brings the
FA
to the
LA LA LA LA LAAAAH
AND ITS A SYMPHONY
THAT NEVER STOPS PLAYING
BY AN ORCHESTRA
IN EACH OF US
FINDING OUR PART
IN ANOTHER
AND PLAYING
G L O R I O U S L Y
Psssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssst:
And it’s not contained in a Season
Or wrapped in paper
Cooked in an oven
Toasted from a raised glass
It’s housed in a heart
Shared in a heartbeat
Received as the most precious of gifts
The one with no expiration date
Or shelf life
Just
L I F E
In all of its fullness
Becoming even grander
When shared
And it happens
In a moment
So. . .
GET YOUR BLINK ON
D o n ’ t
M i s s
I t
END-L I G H T I N G
I love Candles. . .
I love the actual act of simply lighting Candles.
I Love how they make a room look.
I love how Candles can make a room smell.
I love how Candles illuminate something in me that nothing else quite can. . .
especially if music is playing;
I love that one of our friends with their kids made candles
and gave Erin and I each one last week;
I love the flickering dancing of a small flame from a Candle. . .
Y O U ?
Go figure. . .
Hanukkah and Christmas Eve are NOT the same days this year;
. . .in fact, we are already nearly in the middle of Hanukkah
and it’ll end in the evening of Wednesday, December 20. . .
four evenings before Christmas Eve. . .
My favorite Hanukkah Story is one of my Favorite Christmas stories:
Right before sunset a young boy and his mother were about to light the Menorah and he asked her,
“MOM, DO YOU LOVE ELENA MORE THAN YOU LOVE ME?”
As the rest of the family gathered around to Light the Menorah, she whispered back to her son, “Honey, I will answer that question when we light the Hanukkah Candles.”
She lit the Shamash, (the Candle that lights the other candles of the Menorah) held it high and said,
“ALL MY LOVE IS IN THIS FLAME. I AM GOING TO GIVE ALL MY LOVE TO GRANDMA AND GRANDPA.”
She lit that first candle, held the Shamash high above.
“LOOK, I STILL HAVE ALL MY LOVE.”
“NOW, I’M GIVING ALL OF MY LOVE TO YOUR DAD,”
She said as she lit the second candle, holding the Shamash high above and proclaiming,
“LOOK, I STILL HAVE ALL MY LOVE.”
“NOW, I’M GIVING ALL OF MY LOVE TO YOUR SISTER, ELENA,”
she said as she lit the third candle and then held the Shamash high above exclaiming,
“LOOK, I STILL HAVE ALL MY LOVE.”
“NOW I WILL GIVE ALL OF MY LOVE TO MR. BENSON, OUR NEIGHBOR WHO HAS NO FAMILY OF HIS OWN,” she said as she lit the fourth candle and held the Shamish high to say,
“LOOK, I STILL HAVE ALL OF MY LOVE.”
“NOW, FOR MY FRIEND CATHY WHO IS IN THE HOSPITAL,”
she said as she lit the fifth candle and once again held the Shamash high as she boldly said,
“LOOK, I STILL HAVE ALL MY LOVE.”
“NOW, HERE IS SOME LIGHT FOR ISRAEL, IN HOPE FOR PEACE,”
She lit the sixth candle, held the Shamash high to extol,
“LOOK, I STILL HAVE ALL OF MY LOVE.”
“NOW, I WILL GIVE ALL MY LOVE TO CHILDREN WHO DO NOT KNOW FROM WHERE THIER NEXT MEAL WILL COME.”
She lit that seventh candle, held the Shamash high and confidently stated,
“LOOK, I STILL HAVE ALL OF MY LOVE.”
“NOW. . .NOW, MY SON, I WILL LIGHT THIS EIGHTH CANDLE. AND I AM GIVING ALL OF MY LOVE TO YOU.”
C O U L D I T. . .
could it be that one Light ends at the same time Another Starts?
Could it be that they
ALL JUST CONTINUE TO
f l i c k e r
on. . .
enlighten. . .
to the eye that notices?
L I G H T I N G
is a VERB
For all Seasons
For all Days
For all Moments
For A L L
Maybe. . .
Maybe it’s all about just when the
Wick comes to Flame. . .
m a y b e
it’s all about
O N-L I G H T E N I N G
and less about
E N D-L I G H T E N I N G ?
S O . . .
S e e. . .
B e. . .
F r e e
that magnificent Light
w i t h i n
for all those
w i t h o u t. . .
I T I S I N E V E R Y O N E O F U S
Let’s in our own way
Let’s in our own time
p r a y
Be ENLIGHTENED
To ENLIGHTEN
To SEE
