Come visit my other blog ....

Hello RandomThinkers! Yes it's been awhile. 

Thought I'd introduce you to my work blog.  Yes, I actually do have a real paying job, shock shock.

Please share this with your boss or your friends that have that boring job working in a cube in corporate America.

Today's post is about the power of focus to achieve your goals.  It applies at work or at home but I get paid by those corporate America types.
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Focus: Like Ant Boy on the Sidewalk

http://executionbiz.blogspot.com/

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And if you're feeling really Springy and abundant, hit follow on that blog too.  That would be cooler than Easter Baskets and Daffodils.

God Speaks to me in Airports

Packing for my 6am flight to San Francisco tomorrow.  I won't be riding on a trolley car, photographing the Golden Gate bridge or touring Alcatraz while I'm there.  Just the boring life of business travel; airport, cab, hotel, meeting room,cab airport, home.  Yep, that's it.

The only really great thing about my trip is, God speaks to me in airports.  Before you roll your eyes and think I must be off my meds, let me explain.

My life is grand and chaotic.  I work around 50 hours a week doing sales and consulting for FranklinCovey. My days and sometimes nights are filled with more phone calls, emails, and client meetings then most people can stand.  I have two kids and a husband who expect dinner at least a few nights a week. There are dogs and cats to feed, laundry to do.  The family has their meltdowns, excitement, and general expectations of what our life should be and I'm involved in a majority of it.  The few hours of sleep I get a night are the only times that my brain and my body rest.

Tomorrow morning around 5:30a.m. my accessibility is almost completely cut off for nearly 48 hours. I get a little giddy just thinking about it.

In the airport and on the plane I think.  I dream. I wonder. I ponder. And when I create this space, God creeps into my heart and the middle seat, because he's that kind of guy. He speaks to me through the books I finally get to read, the interesting guy that chats with me in line at the ticket counter, the delayed flight because He thought I needed more time to myself, and the cab driver wisdom on the way to my hotel.

Some of my best ideas and most profound moments have come to me in airports, airplanes, cabs, and hotels when it's just me and God hanging out, travel buddies. 

Lately I've been having that itchy, "what if", kind of feeling.  That's the one I get just before a new opportunity or idea comes in.  I'm excited to see what He has in store for me. 

Brand Fail: Reflections on Swamp Girl post

So I posted the Swamp Girl post last night. 

Then I woke up at 5:45am thinking, kinda funny but clearly a Brand Fail.

I failed my own brand.

Bloggers are a weird bunch.  We put out a post, then we sit and wait for the response. Any response. Comments make our world all sunny and bright. We secretly dream that someone will pass one of our posts to Oprah and she'll market her very first blog recommendation and we'll be on her show, and we'll get a book deal, and our waist will get smaller and our hair will get fuller.

So at 5:45am I woke up with the "brand fail" thought.  Then I went totally crazy train in my "barely had 5 hours of sleep" state and let this roll around in my fog spot head.

What if ........ what if this was the one.  What if this was the post that got into the hands to transform my writing career.  What if instead of Oprah, it was Perez Hilton.  What if I opened my gmail account and found an email from Perez saying, "Oh Honey, we just L  u u u  v your Swamp Girl post. (said in a he/she kind of way). And honey, we want you to write a piece for US Weekly and do a little spot on TMZ.

http://perezhilton.com/

So what happens then?  Do you stumble around saying oh, no, you don't understand, that's not really how I write, I'm way more positive than that.  See .... see.... look at this post about how much I love my son.  Then, I sob ...... go back and look at my Lessons from the Recession series, it's really good.  Then falling to my knees, I plead ... pllleeeaaaz just call Oprah.

And it hits me, all of those other posts don't matter at all, I'm now a trash talking rag writer and my kids will end up like the Osbournes without the interesting accents that make them tolerable.  There will be a large poster of the Swamp Girl picture above the fireplace in our trashy leopard skin decorated house and I'll long for my life before Swamp Girl and you'll only remember me as my own Swamp Girl.

I rub my sleepy eyes and try to wake up. I grab my phone. No email from Perez. I re-read the post and realize it's not that bad and actually kinda funny. Hmmm.  Guess I'll get on with my life.  TMZ might've been kinda fun.  *sigh*