This isn’t the sort of book I typically review. It’s motivational, very brief, with sometimes only a word or two on a page, followed by a page or two with a single phrase up to a couple of hundred words expanding on the opening word or phrase. But I liked this one enough to share.In part, this is because like me, she combines many worlds: in her case, she has a background in multiple performing arts—including studying with Marcel Marceau—as well as business and teaching/coaching.
She’s also obviously very persuasive; she got her publisher, Hay House, to spring for color printing throughout the book (an expensive undertaking, and one that isn’t obvious to the casual reader, because many of the pages have just a dab of color in one of the little critters that say wise things at the edges of the text). And she got me to review it (and subscribe to her newsletter) after hearing her present on a Zoom call some months ago.
Starting by reinventing the contents listing as a “circle of contents,” she makes an adamant case to be yourself, to risk embarrassment or failure, to let your light shine even if it shines on a path no one else is taking—and to allow ideas to sprout even in the places you aren’t comfortable and can’t guess the outcome. That’s where the extraordinary might be hiding: “It is in this very gap between what is and what could be that we find our way; it is here that some of our best ideas are born” (p. 5).
She gives a lot of guidance on nurturing your intuition, including a page each of feelings that demonstrate you are or are not on the right path (pp. 25-26)—and nurturing others, even asking what single piece of advice you would give a mentee if you were dying on a desert island (p. 31).
That kind of twist on the familiar is something she does a lot; she’s a delightful contrarian. So many business and self-help books go on about goals, while Labalme proclaims, “you don’t need a goal to justify a pursuit”—and you don’t need to know where it’s going, how you’ll use it, or even why you’re following this passion (p. 48). Similarly, you don’t need to select a single focus; be like the spreading canopy of an oak or maple, not the narrow needle of a cypress (p. 115). And I love “Don’t just do something! Stand there!” (p. 102). If others are pressuring you to act prematurely, demand more time (pp. 104-106). Risking forward is about courage, not speed (p. 117); it’s an adventure (p. 129).
It also doesn’t have to be a choice. Often, you may discover an “and” instead of an “or” (pp. 72-74)—but you may have to take it apart before you can put it together (p. 75). And you may draw from a completely different vertical.
And even while recognizing the huge benefits of collaboration, ultimately, you may have to build your own road. As her husband Frank Oz put it in a series of visual diagrams (pp. 88-93), if you let creativity be shaped by consensus, your idea may get so skewed that it no longer works.
