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Excited and shaking in my boots describes how I felt while on my way to Russellville, Arkansas to speak to 400 bright Arkansas Governor’s School students. I didn’t know what to expect. Kids can be a tough audience. But, besides middle-aged men, they are also one of my favorite demographics and, early on in my speech, I told them so; for which I got a round of applause and realized they were going to be a fun group.

It’s nice to recognize all the moms on Mother’s Day and all the dads in June. I did a little research on the origins of Mother’s Day and found that it wasn’t until when Anna Jarvis of West Virginia honored her deceased mother, Ann Jarvis, in 1908 that this special day morphed into a holiday and a coop for Hallmark and other retailers.

At least once a year, I need a little motivation and reassurance that I am on the right life-path.  I find such encouragement in self-help books. Much of who I am today may well be accredited to the decade’s worth of self-help books I’ve read. Currently, I am reading Be Your Future Self, NOW by Benjamin Hardy.

Why is New Year’s Day so full of optimism? It’s just another day on the calendar; or is it?
On New Year’s Day we close the books on business, Christmas, and the Winter Solstice. Though the days from January through March are often cold and snowy, they are also getting longer and brighter, so it feels better; like a time for self-improvement, a time to plan for springing into action.

When I overheard my daughter telling someone that her “PJ game was strong,” I had to laugh and thought, “Right now, that’s true for everyone.” Gone are the days of dressing up and going out. Now, a big outing is masking up for a run to the grocery store and back home for a night of cooking or lounging in freshly washed PJ’s with a good book, hard puzzle, or mini-series on the boob tube (that’s a TV for you youngsters).

My current Netflix binge-watch, with some never-seen-before footage, is Greatest Events of WWII. While I watched this mini-series, I thought of my dad; a young man who fought in this war and was shot down and lived 2 years in Stalag Luft III, a German prison camp.

I took my first plane ride in 1967. Because few seats were occupied, it seemed a luxurious and expensive adventure, afforded by few. My frightened 12-year-old mind will be forever imprinted with the glamour of seeing a pretty stewardess, propped up on an armrest chatting up the businessmen on board, who were smoking cigarettes (each seat had a built in ashtray) and sipping highballs in the middle of day. It was like a Frank Sinatra movie.

Let’s Lent! By that, I mean everyone can participate in the Christian tradition of Lent that began this past Tuesday, known as Mardi Gras (or Shrove Tuesday). You don’t have to be an Anglican Christian to observe a Lenten practice for 40 days. I have Baptist friends and evangelical friends that also enjoy the season of self-improvement.

The problems facing Mother Earth can sometimes seem so big and daunting that it feels discouraging to even try to help. While casually watching Oprah’s Super Soul Sunday and hearing one of her guests talk about effecting change, a little spark of hope ignited within me. The power of one is bigger than you may think.

Yes, it all happened casually, without much thought. I’m sitting in my hairdresser’s (stylist’s) chair, talking about how much I wish I could still wear big, hoop earrings, when she says, “Well, get another ear piercing and you can.” How? Whatever did she mean?
Her assistant overhears and says, “Oh yeah, just put it higher up on the ear. And by the way, if you go, I want to go and let’s get our nipples pierced.” (God, I hope my granddaughter is not reading this).

As Bill Clinton walked on to the stage at the Arkansas Democrat Gazette’s 200th anniversary celebration, I fretted. He’s thin, gray haired and slow moving, so I worried about his cognitive function.
As the audience awaited on bated breath, the 42nd President of the United States acted relaxed as he took his sweet time at the podium, opening his notes, looking out at the audience, and then finally beginning his oration.

Last summer, Mrs. Elm got some bad news; she was diagnosed with incurable Dutch Elm disease. I was crushed at her prognosis and wrote about it in an earlier blog post. In that post, I professed that there are many unexplained miracles and cures that happen every day and, if there’s no scientific cure for Mrs. Elm, then it is time to move to plan B–a miracle. To enlist a miracle, you must have hope, faith, prayer, and ritual.