Everything Old is New Again

Today, as I think about an upcoming event, I'm pondering the truth in the old saying, EVERYTHING OLD IS NEW AGAIN. From my dress to my handbag, my slip to my jewelry--all old--everything old does feel new again because of the way "the outfit" all came together, and the reason I'm wearing it.

Before I share the details, let me make this clear: I don't care much for dressing up; I like shopping even less. There is comfort in worn jeans and softened sweatshirts. I like socks and my Keenes. I wear things, especially fancy things, until they utterly fall apart, because as much as I dislike shopping and dressing up, I find the idea of maintaining someone else's idea of what's fashionable even more distasteful. Who are they to tell me how I should look any given season, especially when many of the most popular colors make me yawn?

So it was with great trepidation that I started pondering what I "should" wear to this upcoming shindig, an event filled with much joy--and picture taking. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that my main goal wasn't to be perfectly gussied, but to feel good. The event was too important to spend a second of it wishing I had on a more comfortable outfit, or jewelry that didn't catch on my skirt, or a color, that although photogenic, made me feel pasty. So off to my closet I went, to my favorite tried-and-true default outfit, the two-piece one with an elastic waistband, comfy fabric and vibrancy.

I called the girlfriend who was with me when I bought it, at least twenty years ago. The fabric is a washable rayon. I told her that although the garment was somewhat thin by now, it still looked nice. And this is why I love her. She didn't give me the ol', What? No new dress for this? "Just wear a good slip," she said. And I have one. As old as the outfit, but still in good shape.

I mentioned to her that I'd also drug out another blue-gray two-piece outfit from that same era. It had a funky uneven hemline, and guess what? Those are back IN! (I don't really care, but this sure struck me funny.) Since I'd recently lost about twenty pounds, it fit me too (and has an elastic waste). I haven't worn it for at least fifteen years. Either one would do. YAY and game on, because then it became about the jewelry, shoes and handbag. 

The bad news: the shoes I used to wear with the vibrant outfit were trashed, and the newer black pumps I owned looked too dressy with the blue-gray outfit for the less-than-formal occasion. Okay, so I had to buy shoes. But once I did (found a nice pair discounted at Steinmart!), off to the Goodwill store I went to find a handbag. SCORE! $3.99, minus senior discount, and all mine!

Last decision: jewelry. No problem-o. I have much lively costume stuff from which to choose, ranging from old to older.

Now, as I prepare to make my decision--as I look at these two fully accessorized old outfits in the mirror--they look brand new to me. But no matter which I select, to be honest, nobody's gonna care what I'm wearing anyway. They'll all be watching the beautiful bride, her handsome groom next to her. 

Her groom. My 47-year-old son. I'll be watching through happy tears, glad I'm comfortable in my clothes and myself. Glad that witnessing sweet new love commit to a lifetime of growing old together never grows old.

Glad about how very much new love makes everything old feel new again.

FOCUS

According to dictionary.com, the word FOCUS means exactly what I thought it did, especially in the context in which I cannot seem to apply it for the last few days.

1. "a central point, as of attraction, attention, or activity: The need to prevent a nuclear war became the focus of all diplomatic efforts."

And wow! Isn't that some sample sentence to at least momentarily FOCUS your attention on disaster?! I wonder what's happening in the news RIGHT THIS MINUTE, especially with all that nuclear testing threat stuff going on in North Korea. Maybe I oughta turn on the TV for a moment.

See what I mean?

Sure, I've had a lot on my plate lately, what with the new book release. But even on days when Google Calendar tells me I have no appointments scheduled, I can't seem to FOCUS on the project I set as my goal.

For instance, I absolutely need to tackle all the piles of whatever they are strewn and stacked around my house. Every day I say to myself, TODAY I SHALL TACKLE THESE PILES! Yet I seem incapable of making a dent in them. Which caused me to zing back to dictionary.com to look up the word LAZY.

la·zy

   [ley-zee]  Show IPA adjective, la·zi·er,la·zi·est, verb, la·zied, la·zy·ing.

adjective

1.

averse or disinclined to work, activity, or exertion; indolent.

2.

causing idleness or indolence: a hot, lazy afternoon.

3.

slow-moving; sluggish: a lazy stream.

4.

(of a livestock brand) placed on its side instead of upright.

So, I start reading the definitions and think, Yes. Perhaps laziness is my issue--until I get to #4. And I have no idea what they're talking about. Although my brain does feel a little on its side lately rather than upright (like on TILT), so I guess that fits too.

***

Well you can see what happened next! Since I pasted in the definitions, I can't get the left-hand margin of this post set back to to where it belongs. I have no idea why. I've poked around and wasted another five minutes fretting about that rather than FOCUSING on a single one of my piles. But how could I ignore this distasteful formatting issue?

I'm pretty concerned about being lazy when it comes to my piles, but my efforts to fix this margin were so diligent that perhaps I'm not lazy, but rather just PROCRASTINATING with those piles, another word I want to look up so I can discern the root of the problem that's keeping me from FOCUSING. But it's time to start dinner, which I'm going to do right after I check in one more time with the Eagles. 

American Idol is on tonight.

Tomorrow is another day, hopefully with another word, like ACHIEVEMENT.

Good and Evil

I was reading a recent copy of Literary License, association publication for the Society of Midland Authors, when today's words, Good and Evil, jumped off the page and gave me goosebumps. I'll tell you why in a moment. First let me give you the context.

Robert Loerzel wrote that Marilyn Robinson, author of Gilead, a book I truly loved (I'm going to blog about that experience on my new GoodReads blog one of these days), recently "took part in a March 3 discussion on 'Literature and Evil'. The larger event, the Association of Writers and Writing Programs conference (strangely, I can't find 2012 info, which perhaps just isn't recapped yet?), was held in Chicago. Ten thousand people attended, Loerzel said. Somehow I missed the ginormous sold out conference was even taking place in my back yard until after it was over.

Yep, that's the way this author sometimes rolls. Oh, well ...

Loerzel said that the title of Robinson's event [Literature and Evil] "seemed to make her uneasy. What is evil? 'The greatest peril is in thinking that you know what it is,' Robinson said. 


'Too easily arrived-at definitions of good and evil do the work of the devil.'"

Whoa. Let me read that again!

I not only read it again, underlined it, put a star in the margin, and repeated it here, but I'm cutting it out and pasting it on the upper right-hand corner of my computer monitor. I might even photocopy the provocative line and put a copy in my wallet. I believe that is one of the deepest most profound and convicting truths I've read lately, especially when applied to ... just about any walk of life, and especially in this political climate.

I shall be holding my feet to the fire of that poignancy every time I make a snap decision, especially when I'm about to spout off on the good or evil of it--or him, or her, or "those people."

Think, Charlene. THINK! Maybe you are wrong.

Love Is All You Need

I attended a wedding this past weekend. The reception took place in the gymnasium of an old combo church and school turned art museum,  transformed into celebration perfection.

As we flooded into the vintage venue--complete with tables, table clothes, candles, wedding favors and snacks all lined up and waiting for us--glorious sunlight (thank you, Mother Nature!) streamed through the partially clad windows and began to celebrate and play right along with us.

Before this portion of the par-tay began (Crank up the music! Pour the drinks! Turn on the disco lights!), we'd been blessed by the ceremony held in an intimate room with colorful paintings on the walls. We received a word from the man referred to as the "Internet pastor" (he did a terrific job!) and the couple read their personally created vows (tender and tear-inducing). Then, the kiss. A GOOD kiss, and you know what I'm talking about. There was even a short follow-up dessert kiss.

As the couple turned to face us, All You Need is Love blasted into the room. Mr. Internet Pastor closed his eyes, held out his arms benediction style, threw back his head and saaaaaaaang right along with the lyrics as the new Mr. and Mrs. high-beamed their way down the aisle.

I can't stop thinking about that electric moment in time when I had no doubt it's absolutely true: all we need is love. If we loved with our whole hearts, minds and wallets, how much better would the world be?! (Hello, starving people! Hello crazed dictators! Hello lost and forgotten! Hello forgiveness!) I will forever carry that bright spot in an easily accessible corner of my heart.

After dinner, toasts, dancing and making merry, the sun began to wane. As natural light faded, the mellowness of fairy lights, candles and dance-floor illumination settled the room with an ambient glow--just perfect for yet MORE dancing and merriment.

When it was time for us older folk to depart, the bounty of love and love light continued to spread its radiance far beyond the festivities.

And the entire world felt just a little bit LOVE-lier.

Encouragement

I started pulling together this recent issue of the TwinkleGram back in February. I love writing TwinkleGrams, and yet, they are a task. I'm sure you know what I'm talking about. When I don't get one done in a timely fashion, the "fun thing" weighs on me.

But life happened. FINDING OUR WAY HOME released. There were guest blog posts to write, radio interviews to blab, book stores to get to (still are). All the while, I just about melted down my Google Calendar by grabbing the TwinkleGram task and drop-and-dragging it forward (boy, that describes the emotional weight!) another day or two. Another day or two. Another day or two.

But finally--FINALLY--I finished the TwinkleGram, complete with survey and all. This after changing the original topic of Today's Message to The Joy in Second Chances because Hard Things came down in my extended family, and I write as a way to process. To file. To circle my wagons around hope.

Often, after finishing such a time-consuming task, I ask myself, Why do you bother, Charlene? Who really cares anyway. Nonetheless, two main goals were accomplished: 1) Writing Today's Message (the heart of the TwinkleGram, complete with a survey to help readers process the gist of the message in their own lives) and sharing news about the new book.

Then, like the small green shoots pushing Spring's compact crusty earth aside, something wonderful sprouted in my email INBOX. I received cheery notes from TwinkleGrammers who appreciated the message, spoke of its timeliness in their lives.

And there it was, today's word: Encouragement. This is why you "bother", Charlene, because encouragement is a circle. You pass it on, and somehow it returns twofold, energized to spin forth again.


I don't mean to suggest we encourage so that we can be encouraged, for where would the genuine giving be in that? But offering encouragement seems to spawn a magical cycle of begetting. More encouragement begets more encouragement. Pay it forward. Pass on the feel-good. Who else needs a lift?

When you encourage someone, next thing you know, YOU have more energy and your burdens seem lighter. Neat-o.


It's always fun for me to check the survey results, see how people are processing. So many of the TwinkleGrammers post fun pithy answers that make me laugh out loud--yet more surprise payback for my investment. But this more serious message inspired people to think on their past, how they process it. How often do we look back, consider where we've come from, what we've survived? Some of their answers tugged at my heart.


Fueled by the encouragement of thank-you emails (thanking me for my encouragement in the TwinkleGram) I felt especially "right" about personally encouraging two survey respondents whose hearts seemed heavy. Although I've never sent e-cards to people I don't know, today I did.

Encouragement. Think it. Live it. Give it. Pass it on. Catch it when it returns. Fling it out again. 

Who doesn't need a good dose of ENCOURAGEMENT.

Buffering (spinning icon) Buffering (spinning icon)

Buffering, the dreaded word, or sometimes just an animated symbol, one that tried to hypnotize me a few times this week. (You will watch the twirling icon. You are getting sleepy ...)

I don't usually see this word on my Big Boy computer. But my traveling laptop, which I've been attached to for a couple weeks, and which is now kinda old and lacking today's zippety-do-dah, likes to hurl this one at me.

Buffering. I had a general idea what the word meant: My machine is taking time (taking IT'S TIME!) to "get something" before it happens. When I looked up the definition, I laughed out loud. I laughed because, I'm told,

Buffering means that your device is downloading a video in advance to avoid delays in playback. I noticed in another definition, the word "hopefully" was tactfully applied.

HAHAHAHAHAHA! Avoid delays! BWA-HAHAHAHAHA! Because here's the deal: when things are not as zippety-do-dah as they should be, one buffering delay seems to beget another. Sometimes I only see a few words (okay, maybe a word and a half) before there is a LONG DELAY to BUFFER AGAIN.

When I'm in a hurry, this whole buffering thing is tormenting. When I'm just dinking around on YouTube, the freeze-frames during the buffering can be quite entertaining. Who knew mouths do those types of gymnastics midst their words?!

(pause while Charlene freaks out) 

As a speaker, I just gave myself chills. I've been video taped on many occasions. I've even uploaded a few "fascinating" videos to my own YouTube channel. (Charlene pauses again, prays about HER buffering increments should any of you take a watch.)

The more I think about buffering (see spinning icon while fingers pause before more typing), the more relatable the concept. At my age (spin), my brain seems fond of buffering. Like when I'm trying to remember a name (whiirrrrrrrrr), or what I was going to say (spin, spin, spin), or when I'm taking a moment to stop myself from saying that! (DANG! Not enough buffering!)

And (slight pause), there you have it. Today's lesson from and for Charlene on buffering.

On Clubbing Books (you know what I mean)

While reading the local paper I saw a brief notice that the Winona Public Library Monthly Adult Book Club would meet while I was in town. As an author, I've "attended" conference calls and Skype-ins while my books were clubbed (well, you know what I mean), but never have I been able to attend a book club meeting from the readers' side of the discussion. I'm filled with envy when I hear my friends talk about their book clubs, but it just never works out.

Although I'd never heard of the title mentioned in the newspaper spot, I picked up the phone and called a local book store to see if they had a copy. Yes, a used one. Perfect. Within a couple hours, I'd made my purchase and settled into my lounge chair, feet up, iced tea nearby, determined to finish the book by the time of the meeting, a mere five days away. Considering I had my own book releasing a few days afterward, and the fact that I'm a slow reader, this would be no small accomplishment. My PR machine was cranking. It was all I could do to keep up with it. Nonetheless, I was--still am (not done reading it yet, and the meeting is tomorrow afternoon) dedicated to this task.

I was hoping I liked the book, because if I didn't--and especially since I had my own book coming out--I didn't wish to take part in a discussion just to blast it. After all, an author wrote that book too, and we can be sensitive. :)

Then I read the first line of The Rich Part of Life by Jim Kokoris.

The day we won the lottery I was wearing wax lips that my father had bought for the Nose Picker and me at a truck stop.


After one line, I already loved the storyteller and the mood. Wax lips. Calling your sibling a Nose Picker. Truck stops. Random wealth. Genius to me, because they're all elements--words with images--I find either fun (wax lips), can remember myself (sibling names) or invokers of warm memories (truck stops and my father.) By the time I got to page 206, I loved the story even more. Quirky characters always float my boat. I hope to find time to get to page 327, The End, by tomorrow's meeting.

But if I can't finish the book, my dilemma will be agonizing: Of course I'll want to go, I think. Hey, it'll be my first book club meeting! I'll be anxious to hear how others enjoyed, or not, the storytelling--the story. But what if they give the ending away, and I imagine they surely will. I assume satisfactory endings is a part of book club discussions, right?

To those of you who are used to clubbing books (I'll know what you mean), please weigh in here. If I don't finish, should I go? HELP A NEWBIE CLUBBER (well, maybe) OUT!