SO long, is right . . . my goodness, it feels like a century has passed since the last time I sat down to compose a post! I think I actually saw a spider crawl across my screen when I opened WordPress . . .
Well, first thing’s first: I hope this post finds you well! Over the last few months it has been a struggle to keep up with all that goes on in my neck of the woods. Many of you will know that I was battling to find an answer to my curious, worrisome health issues.
Very briefly I will sum up what the doctors have figured out. Are you ready? Here it is: nothing. You heard right, they have no clue! Although I saw a grand total of eleven specialists, had over fifty different exams/tests performed, I am just as much as a mystery to them as I was the very first day. Two of my physicians have collectively agreed upon Fibromyalgia as my condition. I am still very new to this term and continue to do my research; and while it does seem like it could explain many of my symptoms, it isn’t a perfect fit. But other than Cinderella’s shoe, since when is anything a perfect fit?
For all of you who have been kind enough to check in and ask how I am doing, the answer is good! I appreciate each and every thought and prayer you lifted up in my name. God is doing powerful things in my life, and while I am not 100%, I trust His plans, and even more, trust the Good that will come of this. And if I had to — if I had to pick the one thing that has changed the most as a result of what’s happened to me, I would say it is this: no fear. For someone who was once detrimentally worried and anxious about plenty of things — most of which really were not worth it — I have been released from the vice fear kept on me. It’s amazing. I can hardly explain it with words; but of course you know I’ll try.
It’s like . . . Have you ever worn something very heavy or extremely tight fitting for a long period of time? Maybe a motorcycle helmet, ski boots, or perhaps carted around luggage that suddenly doesn’t feel worth its weight but you can’t dump it anywhere? Well, imagine you could. Imagine you’ve been dragging this hundred pound beast behind you for years. YEARS. And then suddenly . . . you weren’t. Someone came along, grabbed hold of the handle, and freed you from your burden. There you are — still a little achy and quite a bit tired from time spent in bondage — but you’re free. You can breathe, deeply. You’re tingly. Light. Effervescent even. That’s what it feels like no longer being afraid of what may or may not happen to me. Between that, and feeling well enough to be out and about, I am enjoying my life, immensely, in a way I never had before.
Onto more exciting things!
Cara got a new do. Chopped it all off, I did. And I’d say it suits me just fine; better than fine, actually. I feel . . . refreshed and sassy. However, I am just waiting for the day someone calls out from behind me, “Um, excuse me, Sir?” I’m already working on potential responses. So far I have, “How can I help you?” in my deepest alto.
Please feel free to leave your suggestions.
My angel — Mr. Husband avante-grade, Michael Olsen — surprised me with tickets to Wicked. Here are a few pictures from the event.
~ The Outfit
~ The Witch
In short, it was one of THE best plays we’ve ever seen. If you have any reservations about seeing this production, I invite you to read my extensive review posted here:http://www.yelp.com/biz/segerstrom-center-for-the-arts-costa-mesa#hrid:eWotPOPvoOgs4_ZrvDcZoQ/src:self
Also, I wanted to let those of you who were staying tuned about the Random Acts Of Kindness know that we have passed out about half the cards so far. We are taking our time, keeping our eyes open for opportunities to make someone’s day brighter. For the most part we’ve distributed them to clerks and servers, explaining to them why and what we are attempting to do by spreading kindness. Though on one occasion I included one of the gift-cards in someone’s birthday card. Let me tell you — they were stoked! They couldn’t wait to pass on the love.
However, my most favorite encountering took place two Sundays ago, at church, with a man named Don.
After the service had ended, I was standing with friends, chatting, when an elderly man walked right up to me and asked, “Where’s your horse?” He was staring at my boots — brown, leather, with little buckles at the top. Truly, they do look like equestrian riding boots. I replied to him, in an equally placid voice, “Oh, my horse? He’s around back. I didn’t want to startle anyone.”
He smiled at me, twinkling eyes in a shriveled red face, and then he was off at the speed of turtle. I can’t explain it, but I liked his man immediately. I inquired about him, and this is what I learned: His name is Don and he is homeless. He is an 83 year-old, with polio in his right arm, currently living at the Motel 6, after his son-in-law bought his house out from under him, thus forcing him onto the streets. And each Sunday, come Hell or High-water, Don walks four blocks to Christ Presbyterian Church.
Someone mentioned that he once showed up for the service on the verge of fainting; face cherry red, panting heavily. Not a little flabbergasted, I asked my friend, “Well, does anyone offer to pick him up?”
I found Don standing on the grass, sipping black coffee from a styrofoam cup. I said, “Hi, would like a ride home?”
(If Cyranno de Bergerac and Johnny Carson had a child, it’s name would have been Don.) Don looked me up and down and replied, “My, you’re pretty! If I could, I would give you a thousand stars and lay them at your feet. I’d buy you boxes of Sees’ Chocolates — none of that cheap crap!”
We talked briefly, sharing our love for thrift-stores. We are kindred spirits, him and I.
Eventually Don — Shakespeare I named him shortly thereafter — accepted the ride, asking to be taken to Polly’s Diner, where he would have lunch at 3 o’clock — no sooner! After we dropped him off, Don entertaining us the entire drive, it was time to say goodbye and go meet up with our friends. So we did.
But Don stayed on my mind all day and all night. I would be thinking about something, and BAM! Don’s face would burst into the scene. Thoughts of him nibbled at me for a long while; until I had my mind made up.
A little Easter fun . . .
And last, but certainly not least: *cue the trumpets*
Here’s a sneak-peek at my second book!
Oh, I just love the artwork. Michael did a terrific job, didn’t he? How blessed am I to be married to a Psychologist and freelance graphic artist?! Not bad, Cara, not bad at all.
I don’t yet have a date set for when this book will be released. I still need to edit before I am wiling to let anyone else take a look at it. And then there is writing the synopsis, editing the synopsis, sending out a gazillion queries, enduring the rejection, and so on and so forth. Luckily I will have the releasing on my debut novel to keep me busy!
To read the Back of the Book blurb, and hear other important announcements, please follow me over to my brand spanking new AUTHOR BLOG!
Author Website: Cararosalieolsen.com
Also, if I haven’t already I would really like to connect with you on Facebook and Twitter.
That’s all I got for now. Please say hello when you have a moment, and let me know what’s been going on with you!