Do we know how to celebrate life? Do we look at a celebration the wrong way?
A celebration is usually thought of as a festival, a
special event or ceremony that is full of joy. For example, we “celebrate” a
wedding but “attend” a funeral.
Have “celebrations” come to mean only marking a
victory, an achievement or a happy event?
Since my beloved husband’s illness was diagnosed last
November, I’ve learnt that there’s an art to celebration.
Celebration doesn’t depend on outside circumstances:
why should we wait for the next birthday or personal success or sunny day to
celebrate?
Even in dark times, even when we’re separated from joy
and laughter by an abyss of fearful anxiety, if we dig deep enough, we can find
within our souls a bubble of joy, a small wonder that can and should be
celebrated with both tears and laughter.
The art of celebration doesn't lie in waiting for the
good times or the happy days.
No, it lies in finding a way to walk the middle
path between great joy and great sorrow; of finding one particular moment in between
those two extremes to rejoice in this
moment, this one instant in which we’re
alive to all that life has to offer.
Can you practice the art of celebrating your sorrows
as well as your joys? If you can, then
you already know what I am learning: the dark days always become brighter when
we search for something to celebrate in each other, in our life and in our world.
![]() |
Magnified section of "Man and the World of Stars" mixed media Wenkidu. Find out more about this wonderful painting of a celebration dance here |