For accessibility and ease, you can listen to this post narrated by Mike:
I used to think I’d run out of ideas.
If I wrote too often or gave too many talks or shared all of my best stuff, I was convinced that the well would dry up. Like I had a limited supply of creativity, and I had to use it most efficiently.
So I put a lot of pressure on myself to make those ideas good. Really good. Because I didn’t want to waste a drop of precious time or creativity.
I put pressure and constriction on the ideas before they were even born—before I knew what I was working with. I told myself they weren’t good enough—a familiar story for me. And I mostly squashed them before they even had a chance to grow.
I was jealously guarding the temple of my creativity. And, in doing so, blocking my own access.
Paradoxically, the more I wrote, talked, shared, and taught, the more ideas that came to me. Like a flood. All the time. In the shower, eating lunch, going for a walk.
I didn’t run out of ideas. On the contrary. I stopped having to look for ideas. Because they started finding me. Every movie, conversation, stroll in nature became a treasure trove of inspiration.
And I stopped caring much if they were good or bad. Sharing ideas became less about proving myself and more about experimentation. If today’s idea didn’t work out, who gives a shit? I’ll just have a new one tomorrow. I’ll just write, read, speak, and teach about new things tomorrow.
And, more often than not, even the “bad ideas” started leading me to really good ones. Or connecting with other ideas I had in interesting ways.
We visionaries are just that—visionaries. We live in the world of visions, ideas, possibilities. We see so much potential. We dream up big dreams. That’s our gift to the world.
But, if we put pressure on that process—or let others’ stories in that we’re not enough—then we’ll squash the clay before it ever had the chance to become a sculpture.
If we’re constantly looking for issues in anything in life, we’ll be sure to find them. And we might very well give up on something truly special. And feed into the same old story that we’ll never be good enough.
I started writing every weekday because I didn’t want to put pressure on my ideas. I knew that if I wrote once a week, I’d put a good amount of pressure on that piece. If I wrote five times that each week, I’d put only 1/5 of the pressure on each piece.
And ideas begot ideas. I started thinking about the world around me in new ways. And seeing nuances I couldn’t see before.
The amateur needs stark differences to stay entertained. But the master is fascinated by the world of subtle differences in their given field of expertise. It’s our ability to be ever more curious by the splitting of hairs that marks mastery.
We’re visionaries. We’re sensitives. We sense more. We experience more in our area of expertise. And there’s a world of exploration in every moment.
Our job then stops being about “coming up with good ideas” and starts being about unpacking those ideas all the time. Sharing them. Talking about them. Going deeper into them.
Telling our friends. Then our therapists. Then writing. Then giving a talk on them. Going ever deeper into these ideas. And letting them weave together with other ideas we have.
When we start to unpack ideas, we start to see beyond the superficial layer. And that’s when things get really exciting. We start to experience the genius, the essence inside.
If we put a lot of pressure on ourselves and our ideas, we very rarely unpack them enough to see what’s inside. We never get access to the genius.
But when we share because we’re so excited, that’s when we get to see more and more and more. And new understandings start to come up. And we allow it to be a co-creation. With our readers and friends and therapist and collaborators.
We share and share and let others’ voices help drive our mind deeper into the topic. Not afraid that we’re “giving our best stuff away” or that we’re “not good enough.”
But knowing that we are visionaries. We are goddamn geniuses. And consistently unpacking our ideas is the only way we’ll ever access that genius.
If we squash an idea because we didn’t think it was our best work, and we move on to a new idea, then we never really gave it a chance. We just jump from idea to idea, always reinventing the wheel and praying that this one will be ‘good enough.”
We’re not acting from the place of our genius. We’re still just trying to prove ourselves. And adding on layers of pressure.
But, if we can take a moment to release that pressure, we can see that good ideas need time to marinate. Time to unpack layers of superficiality to access their genius.
And we’ll never run out of ideas. No matter how often we talk about or share them. Because there are always deeper layers of genius we can access. Always new understandings that we haven’t quite hit upon yet.
When we move beyond the surface level, the world becomes vast.
It’s preposterous to think that “meditating too much” would cause us to run out of benefits, right? Because we’re accessing deeper and deeper layers of consciousness as we meditate.
Just because we no longer have frantic thoughts come up doesn’t mean we’re done. It means we’re just getting started.
As a visionary, ideas are your lifeblood. They’re your gift to the world. And you are blessed with an endless supply of creativity that connects you deeper to something bigger than yourself.
When you’ve shared all you can share, when you feel like you have nothing left to say—that’s when you’re just getting started.
It’s through unpacking our ideas that we always discover our genius.
And how we truly transform the world.
Questions for Reflection:
*Answer in a journal, in the comments right here, or take it over to the Sacred Branding® Facebook group where we can support one another:
Do you put a ton of pressure on your ideas?
— Do you ever feel like you’re not creative enough? Or that you’ll run out of ideas if you keep sharing all of your best work? Are you waiting to act for when inspiration and the right idea finally comes?
— Do you put pressure on your ideas? Do you give up on them if they don’t work out immediately? Do you ever feel “not good enough” when brilliant ideas aren’t flowing? Do you feel like you have nothing new to contribute?
— What if the more often you share, the more ideas you have (not less)? What if taking pressure off your ideas is critical to accessing your genius? What if your only job is to unpack your ideas and go deeper into them—and that always leads to your genius?