Like it? Then share it. *please*

Saturday, March 27, 2010

Listening to the Voice of Change

I dream of a place where we believe in all that we are,
we believe in ourselves,
we believe in each other.

Prayer fuels all that we are and drives away the evil that tries to live in the spaces of the things that we aren't.

Each night we scurry about picking up the remains of the day and preparing for the next.

And in those times of challenge and change,
we stop,
and we listen.

We listen for the Voices of Change asking us to go a different a way, be a different way, in the spirit of being more of who we are.

And we don't fight the challenge and the change.

We may mourn the loss of some, but we learn to listen and embrace and move forward.

We lean on faith.  Faith that shows us that the clarity of tomorrow will replace the confusion of today.  Faith that fills us, calms us, loves us.

In this space I am sure, I am loved, I am the me I was meant to be.

Monday, March 22, 2010

My Favorite Quote

When I ask you to listen and you start giving advice, you have not done what I have asked. When I ask you to listen to me and you begin to tell me why I shouldn't feel that way, you are trampling on my feelings. When I ask you to listen and you feel you have to do something to solve my problem, you have failed me, strange as it may seem. Listen! All I ask is that you listen; not talk or do - just hear me.  -------------Ralph Roughton, M.D.

Sunday, March 21, 2010

Are you waiting for permission?

I've been stirring around a book idea for about 6 months.  I add a little info here, stir.  Add another idea, bake it a little longer. Never really getting the cake baked. Maybe I was waiting for the golden moment when Oprah calls and invites me to write a book and make me famous.  Yea, as Dr. Phil says, "How's that working for ya?"

Who's permission am I waiting for?

So last week while traveling I had some time and space to think, plan and ultimately decide. Decision is a powerful thing.  It took me two glasses of wine to clear my head of the whirlwind and to pull out an empty pad of paper and start deciding if this book idea has the right ingredients to be a fabulous souffle. a tasty cupcake, or a bowl of fruit jello.

What kind of permission am I waiting for?

I made a list of all the people I could think of that could help me with book writing.  It was a pretty impressive list. I can't believe how many people I am closely connected to that have written books. Why can't I tap into their experience? I stopped waiting on permission and started dialing the phone and talking to these people.  All were supportive.

Then came the next decision.  Do I know enough about this topic to write a book about it. Malcom Gladwell says it takes 10,000 hours to be an expert at something. That's good news because I've been married to my husband for 13 years, that's 113,880 hours and I've had my son for 12 years so that's 105,120 hours. You see my book is about the world of ADD/ADHD and the working title is, "Not Wrong, Just Different." Because I've lived with these two guys for over 100,000 hours, clearly I'm an expert.

Looks like I'm out of excuses and waiting for permission seems pretty stupid so I better get to work.

Once I got out of my own way the ideas started flowing. I made 6 pages of notes in one sitting and two "phone a friends" for input. Now I've got a couple of interviews done, a few more scheduled, three more books of research ordered and I'm making notes every day.

I have no idea where this book is going but it feels good to be started with a new energy and excitement.

What great things in your life are sitting there waiting for permission to get started?

I, Rebecca Hession, author of RandomThoughtsByRebecca and fellow seeker of all things grand, give you permission to start today with your idea of greatness.

Let the games begin.

Saturday, March 20, 2010

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.
Focus: Like Ant Boy on the Sidewalk

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

Monday, March 8, 2010

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. 

Friday, March 5, 2010

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.

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*

Thursday, March 4, 2010

Swamp Girl and Whiny Boy

For those of you RandomThinkers that log on for a daily dose of RandomThoughts that have some nutrituional value, this is not the post for you.  This post is the equivalant of a bag of potato chips, 2 Little Debbies and glass of wine.  This post is indulgent, not very good for you, but kinda fun and will likely leave you with a bit of indigestion.

This post is about The Bachelor.

Yes, The Bachelor.  I just lost half of you knowing that.  Oh well, I must continue.

Yes, I watch bad TV and sadly three days past the final rose I'm still thinking about Jake the whiner and Swamp Girl.  Yes, you're right, I shouldn't be calling people names but if you agree to be on a show like that you better be ready to blogged, Tweeted, FB'd and water coolered. This is mine.

Why I think Jake the whiner picked Swamp Girl ......

My take on Jake. 

Jake has been the pursuer for years.  Trying to find girls that will date him and not leave because he's a nice guy and a whiner with really annoying facial expressions.

Why Tenley wasn't a fit. 

Jake didn't want to deal with the nice girl. He knew he'd need to heal her heart and all kinds of emotionally exhausting issues. And can you imagine the whiny kids that would come from that union? Shoot me now.

And mostly because Tenley was compared to Swamp Girl.

Swamp Girl was hungry like a wolf. (Or an alligator)

Swamp Girl was willing to bow down to Jake in more ways than I can cover in this sorta family friendly blogosphere.  Swamp Girl was perfectly happy to be the hot fun girl with no real emotional baggage other than the weird Dad relationship. Swamp Girl is dang happy to leave her hip waders and get out of Swampville. Now Jake can sit back, relax, and finally be pursued instead of pursuing. "Bring me my swampwater, Baby, you know I like it when your one eye looks at me from around the corner."

This makes Jake feel all manly. And now Swamp Girl can afford a good hair colorist. The tattoo and lazy eye are going to be a little more difficult.


I don't really, well kinda, it's just interesting. Like road kill.  You can't NOT look.

(I told you you'd feel kinda yucky at the end. I'm still participating in my #28DayChallenge to write a post a day for 28 days. Content and inspiration gets a little 'thin' some days. Blame @thescottbishop for this swampy mess)

Coming soon to ABC

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

Dishin' out some iLove

Have you been reading those articles about how technology is ruining our kids? Yea me too. 

I'm not buying it. 

Remember yesterday's post about Dude? It was all about me worrying that my boy was growing up too fast and I wasn't keeping up on my end of the deal?  Well, there is one thing that I'm doing that I dig a lot.  Dude and I, we text, we email and we love Guns N Roses. 

There are so many things that run through my head throughout the day that I wish I would or could say.  Normally I think of it at a time that he's at school or in the evening when it's all chaotic. And quite frankly, by the time bed time rolls around I'm spent.  That's not my warm and fuzzy moment of my day.

So now when I think of it, I text it, or I email it. Short little bursts of love and affirmation. I try to keep it light and not preachy.  Living with ADHD means he is constantly getting messages about what he forgets, what he didn't do, where he's not measuring up.  My job is to remind him he's the exact person that God created him to be.

Last week I sent one that said,

I love the person that you are.
Love, the coolest Mom ever

I also violated my rule and forwarded him his Powerschool update of grades and he slammed me for it.  His reply, "Mom, thanks for reminding me about my screw ups."  - #MomFail

My favorite is when I get messages from him.  Sometimes he sends me app recommendations that he finds.  He's a cool kid and they're usually pretty interesting.

He sent me an email that said,
"Hey Mom, let's have a great day."
I nearly cried.  Ok, I did cry, just a little, but I don't want to blow my tough girl image.

He also sent me one that said,
"Hey, pick me up some Taco Bell while you're out."
He added his favorite smiley face emoticon because he knows there's no way I'm putting the stench of Taco Bell in my car!

Kids are more than school.  Email and text helps me connect real time to our thoughts and feelings.  We're using high tech to build us up not tear us down.  There are so many tools and ideas that can be used for good or evil.  We're goin' for the good, dishin' out some iLove. Maybe that's what Steve Jobs meant by iTouch.

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

When I get caught up I'm gonna .......

Yesterday I took my son to his yearly check up at the doctor.  He now weighs as much as a supermodel.

80 lbs.

80 POUNDS! My little boy weighs 80 POUNDS! Well, uhhhh, he is 12 years old.  He's talking about things and learning about things that FREAK ME OUT!

I woke up this morning still thinking about this reality and being scared out of mind.  You see, this crept up on me.  I had planned to be such a better mom.  I don't totally suck at it, I mean, we don't sell crack out the backdoor or anything but there is a ton of room for improvement.  Did I have to stand in the kitchen on multiple occassions and scream, "Get your arse down here or you'll miss the bus!" Yea, there's tons of stuff that will come up in his therapy for sure. Things I'm too scared to even share with you, my Random Thinkers.

There are so many things I was planning to do to help him win the Nobel Peace Prize.  I'm really behind on my grand plans.  I'm scared out of my Sketchers that it's too late to catch up on some of it. How am I ever going to show up in one of those P&G proud mom commercials now?

We stand and tell our friends and family that our kids are the most important things in our life. Then while we're busy trying to pay the mortgage and stay married, they're sitting at the kitchen counter waiting for their turn.  Yea, I'm done with that. I'm in freak out mode.

I feel like the farmer sitting on his combine ready to harvest the crops and all of a sudden thinking, I really should have planted that better, I really should have put on a little more fertilizer, I should have picked a better field, I should have picked a better crop.  (tap tap tap on Farmer Brown's shoulder, Hey Dude, start the combine, it's too late for that. Let's get crackin'.)

So, it's too late to buy those fancy ink blots and Mozart baby mobiles, but I can start talking. A lot. And I can start being a better role model.  I can start by sitting at the kitchen counter and walking with him through this crazy fun house called Middle School.  As my friend Jim Struck says, "I'm moving into coach mode."

I can't beat up the other kids at the dance for him.  Well, I could, because I'm crazy strong and a little crazy, but I shouldn't do that.  I should teach him the times that it's ok to beat the crap out of that little punk Randy for bullying him and the times that you really should walk away and more important, when you should walk away and start a petition and a movement for the equal treatment of geeky science kids with great hair.


Maybe I'll even get a whistle to wear around my neck so everyone knows there's a new coach in town.

Are there things in your life that you're gonna get around to when you get caught up?  Caught up on life, caught up laundry, caught up on everything?  (tap tap tap, hey Mister, time to get crackin' on the big stuff, you'll never get caught up on that tornado of a life you're leading.)

That weekly drive to and from guitar practice with dude is going to be all about coaching. I like the car/hostage situation.  Last week we talked about the culture of rock n roll and how he will deal with that sex, drugs and rock n roll thing. I'm steering him toward a Christian Rock career so I don't have to deal with Axl Rose living in my basement.

Monday, March 1, 2010

Don't judge my book by my cover

I'm in Starbucks. Yes, I'm one of "those" people. I'm sitting with my iPhone and my laptop and my $5 coffee and my fancy laptop bag in my "I'm a professional on my way to a really important appointment" outfit.  To the stranger's eye, I look like I've totally got my crap together.  But I don't.  There's stuff stirring in my heart and mind that are not at all "together".

I just hung up the phone from a friend who also has a box truck full of crap she's dealing with.  But she also looks neat, ironed, made up and totally normal.

I'd like to walk around to each person in this coffeehouse and find out what there truckload looks like.  My guess is 85% have a story of something they are juggling with. Something in their mind that is serious.

Why is it we want to believe that we're the only one that's hurting and if we can just get it together, we'll be like everyone else.  That's stupid. And it's a lie.

In fact, my theory is, those that act the most like they have it together are the biggest train wrecks. 

Let's all stop judging people's life based on their shoes, their ride, their digs, and their dog and just get real.  Life has its fair share of crap. Bring a shovel and listen with your heart.