Your ideas: Lead … or gold?

I suffer from the “great idea” syndrome. In other words, I’m always thinking of what I think are good ideas. Then I (often) fruitlessly try to get other people to go along with them. What I’ve had to learn over the years is this: 1) not everyone will see the value in what I offer, 2) if I feel strongly about my idea, then I’m probably going to have to make headway on it myself and quit waiting for other people to help me, and 3) if it genuinely is a great idea, then my Flow will likewise scoop me up and help smooth the way for its implementation.

Let’s start with #1. For many years, I’ve been in a position where I’ve offered some excellent business ideas to someone.

How to know what you should be doing with your life

Alright, this post is blatant rip off from Brazen Careerist. I read Penelope Trunk’s blog regularly, not because I’m always looking for business advice, but because I like her. She’s someone with just enough neurosis-and personality-to fit well in my own quirky family of renegade thinkers. For instance, she’s always telling us that to do well in business, you just have to be likable, not skilled. And because of her, I’ve decided that I’m not particularly likable. Though I am highly skilled.

Anyway, she posted recently about how to find your life’s work. Now, this is coming from a woman who’s written for yahoo business, and other fancy big-name sites. Penelope has also worked for corporations-as have I. She’s had start-ups. So have I. And she’s got young kids in the midst of it all. So do I. So I was curious to see her advice, and after I read it, I thought, Gee, what would I say?”

Some people are just not going to like you

Some people don’t like you. And, they’ll never like you. And you can’t make them like you. And there is nothing you can do about it.

I took a yoga class this evening with a new teacher. We spent an entire hour doing what felt like a variation of the same standing pose, and the teacher was full of criticism. My butt was too high, my shoulders were drooping, and my feet were not wide enough apart. When I inadvertently stretched in between poses to unkink my aching arms, she scolded me, “We are not doing that stretch right now.”

Twenty minutes into the class, I wanted to leave. And twenty minutes later, I found myself thinking what an awful teacher she was, and how her rigid yoga philosophy was so unlike my own. Twenty minutes after that, I thought, “What is my Flow doing bringing me here?” and so I spent the rest of class thinking about the way I really disliked this teacher, while around her the other students were happily chirping that this was the best class in town, since you really got to learn each yoga pose so well.

Not long ago, I made the decision to finally begin teaching workshops in person.

What are you worth?

I feel like an egg that’s been cracked open, and all my gooey insides are running out. It has been quite a day…a week. To feel better, I did two things. First, I spent an hour on my radio show ruminating about how we create value – how we value ourselves, how money or talents are valued – and how we can confuse those two things so easily. And then I went shopping. (Yes, I really did. And I found a really great blouse.)

But I promised listeners of yesterday’s Flowdreaming show that we would continue this conversation about worth-especially self-worth. My own self-worth has been rocked pretty hard lately. And you know how things seem to happen at once?