Elizabeth Gilbert

Enough with the Tortured Entrepreneur. Love the Process.

The process is the cupcake, the outcome is the icing. #365StrongStories by writing coach Marisa Goudy“It doesn’t have to be easy. Isn’t it enough that it’s magic?” Ohhhhh, Liz Gilbert, thank you! Thank you for this and thank you for piercing through my crunch week mania and my cranky mama is on a deadline B.S.

I’ve talked about how putting the finishing touches on my new course - You, Your Stories, and your Audience - has been a total grind. If you saw my sleep starved eyes and my messy ponytail you’d understand that I wanted your sympathy. And fresh brewed coffee. And a time machine. And full time care for my children.

But I am done with that. I am embracing this as the creative process it is. I am showing up to fix one more slide presentation with gratitude rather than resentment.

Enough with the tortured entrepreneur. The business martyr is every bit as worn out and uninspiring as the "tortured artist."

[tweetthis] "Business martyr" is just as cliched and unhelpful as "tortured artist" #lovetheprocess[/tweetthis]

It’s time to recognize that this process is the reward - that gathering and honing of what I know and shaping it into something that is worthy and helpful and TRUE. When people take the course and start writing their own strong stories that better lives… that is just going to make an already powerful, beautiful act of creation into something that much sweeter.

Deep gratitude to Elizabeth Gilbert and to the podcaster who hosted her, the  wicked brilliant Rob Bell (no, he is not a man who says “wicked,” but if he was from Massachusetts rather than Michigan he would say it all the time and would be freaking adorable).

Listen to this one for the brilliance about the cake and the icing and this whole riff about the “transrational” that I am super excited to explore.

And try this one if you want to jump into Big Magic and get the context for the quote above.

Curious about what's in the new course? Get a sweet little taste in the content rich webinar, The Story Triangle, that goes live May 11!

Reserve your seat

I’ve got a creative problem for you, Liz Gilbert, but I am almost too afraid to ask for help

I’ve got a creative problem for you, Liz Gilbert, but I am almost too afraid to ask for help, #365StrongStories by Marisa GoudyElizabeth Gilbert, the magical creature behind Big Magic and Eat, Pray, Love is inviting us all to come to her with our creative aches and pains. (See her Facebook post here.) As we prepare for house guests to arrive - scrubbing just enough to make the place look decent before our families destroy the place again - I’ve been writing and rewriting my 100-word submission in my head.

You can read what I'm sending below, but first, an admission: I’m afraid to admit I have a creative problem.

So much of creating and manifesting a livelihood and leading a life seems like a head game. “Your thoughts create your reality” and “Where the mind goes, the energy flows” and all that… If I spend a day thinking up all the ways I’m a pathetic creative lost in the woods who needs a brilliant best selling writer to save me am I giving up whatever creative power I have? Thing is, being afraid to ask for help, of course is by far more isolating and disempowering. This crafting a business and doing the creative work is hard enough. Let’s all hold hands and ask for guidance and healing when it’s offered.

My Magic Lessons Submission

As a “creative entrepreneur,” I try to make the writing I love to do serve the work I have to do as a writing coach.

I launched my #365StrongStories project to give myself a creative outlet and to show potential clients that it’s possible to “create content” (Ie. tell stories) every day. Most of the time, however, I seem to end up in a no man’s land trapped between the stories I want to write and the stories that I hope will help me build a business.

Entrepreneurship is a necessary creative act, but it threatens my true creativity.

Ask Your Beloved Creations to Love You Back, #365StrongStories 28

Creativity must want a relationship with you. Elizabeth Gilbert. #365StrongStories by Marisa GoudyA teacher of environmental biology asks her two questions at the start of each semester. “Do you love nature?” Yes, of course. Every hand is raised.

“Do you believe that nature loves you in return?” Not a single earnest academic was going to be caught dead admitting to something so… pagan.

Elizabeth Gilbert tells this story in Big Magic to prove that we have a right to be in conversation with Mother Earth, with creativity, with whatever great superhuman force we happen to love.

I keep coming back to Liz’s idea when I secretly reread the stories I have written over the first month of this #365StrongStories project. The way these pieces flow through me and the streams of information and experience rush on, even the post from a few days ago can take me by surprise.

It’s fashionable to bemoan the narcissism of the age. All those selfies we take proves that we’re self-obsessed, right? When I admit that I go back and look at my own work and smile when there’s so much other worthy content to consume… does that prove I have some 21st century sickness?

I don’t think so. Instead, it feels like I am giving my creations a chance to love me back.

You know what it takes to write something that feels worthy of publishing. And you know how hard it is to connect to the reader, even when you’re pouring your best into a post. There’s no guarantee the right people will see what you write and that they’ll have their thumbs prepared to send a response that assures you all the hard work was worth it.

Based on my experiences telling my own Strong Stories, this is my invitation to you: do the work (at your own rate) - the thinking, the writing, the posting, the publicizing. Then, ask those words to love you back when you revisit them.

I never really believed that you need to write for yourself first. Not when I was so desperate to be seen and validated. But finally, I’ve arrived at a place where I give myself permission to stop and see myself and recognize what I’ve made… That’s the nature of real creative magic.