I’ve just set up a Facebook page for me as a speaker and author (click on it and like it!!), and my wonderful business coach and I were discussing what other title to add. She wanted “conscious entrepreneur.” I preferred “spiritual entrepreneur.” A conversation ensued.
(P.S. The header says conscious but will say spiritual by tomorrow!)
“I’m thinking how others will perceive it. Conscious is the new buzzword out there and spiritual might make some people nervous or confused,” she said. “If you’re working with businesses, you want to have a more conscious leadership approach though you would teach spirituality in a way that serves them. Having said that, the choice is yours – what feels right in your heart is what we should use.”
My response: I hear you…conscious is a word that I think has been overused, especially in yoga circles, and it just doesn’t feel like me. I am a spiritual entrepreneur and I don’t want to be afraid to say it. If it alienates potential clients, are those clients I want? I’m open to a conversation on it. Perhaps there’s another word?
The final decision: I own it, so it’s mine.
I’m not afraid to be who I am. Well, truth be told, I am a little. But I don’t want to be, and frankly, when anything comes from fear, it’s destined to fail.
So I’m going to dare to be different and put “spiritual entrepreneur” out there.
Here’s the thing: I’ve always loved pondering the meaning of life. Wondering about God. Prayer. Ritual. Observance. What we do and what we don’t do, either by virtue of belief and choice, or by virtue of fear of the unknown and dogmatic doctrine that’s been beaten into us until we are compliant.
When I was a teenager, I went on a date for the first time with a boy who wasn’t Jewish. He was a nice kid, and he took me to Red Lobster for dinner.
I’d never been to Red Lobster. While my family was not in the least bit religious, and we ate lobster like the rest of them, it just wasn’t a place that we would go. Old habits die hard, I guess.
Then I learned that he chewed tobacco. And the relationship was over before it started.
When I was younger, I worried that I would scare boys away because I thought too much about lofty things. Spirituality. Religion. Belief. God.
It’s this understood but unstated foundation for so many lives, and yet if we cling to it too much, and we are not bona fide clergy, then we’re weird or other or different. I didn’t want to be different. I wanted to fit in.
The truth is, I am different. This is who I am. I think about spirituality. I care very much about the meaning of things. I enjoy conversations about God and higher purpose and what we believe.
And I’m not going to hide from it.
So why should I shy away from doing the same?
Those who think spirituality is weird are not going to want to work with me anyway. I’ll be too frou-frou for them. They’ll whisk me off, saying spirituality has no place in business.
I believe it has every place and then some. Let’s be honest about who we are. It’s the only way to get where we’re meant to go.