Lisa Robbin Young

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It started innocently, as revolutions often do.

I've been working (and re-working) my branding and messaging for the past year, and nothing really seemed to hit the mark. I dove into course after course that offered bits and pieces of what I was hoping would help me craft a clearer direction for me as both an artist and entrepreneur. As usual, some were better than others. While class is still in session in at least one of those programs, I want to update you on a major ah-ha I got from Revolution U579, the brainchild of author and all-round good guy, Jonathan Fields.

"You say you want a revolution? Well...."

It probably sounds better when the Beatles sing it.  Jonathan's premise is that instead of creating a business, we can create a commercial revolution that sets us apart in our industry as well as in the minds of our biggest fans. We stand for something bigger than just the "stuff" we sell.

That sounds like a pretty sexy idea to me. 

RevU takes you through a series of exercises and prompts to ultimately identify the core idea of your revolution. Jonathan asks what you're moving away from and what will supplant the old dictatorial regime. For me, it boiled down to one simple idea:

When we stop dreaming, we start dying.

As kids, our hearts are full of whimsical fantasies and never-ending stories about our biggest dreams. Firemen, princesses580, becoming a rock star. We keep on dreaming until, one day, something happens, or someone else enters our lives and slowly, those dreams get squashed, squelched, or otherwise relegated to some dusty corner in the attic of our minds581... often to never be revisited again.

motivational-quote_152264-1582That's when death begins. It's slow, plodding, and sad. Most of the time, we don't even realize it's happening to us. Someone tells us we're too loud, or too enthusiastic, or a bit obnoxious about our dream, so we turn the volume down. Little by little, (more…)

As a small child, I knew I was called to be a performer. I remember being 2 or 3 years old (before we moved into the house I grew up in) and "performing" for my family. I'd stand up on my wooden toy box, pretending it was a stage, dancing and singing for whoever would give me the time of day. I remember the day I was too big to stand on that "stage" - my foot went right through the lid and broke the toy box.

Somehow, I've managed to totally mungle my dream because of shame.

I grew up in a community where the biggest dream most folks had was to get a good paying job in "the shop". GM practically owned Flint when I was growing up, and the parents of most of the kids I ran with were either in the shop, or served the shop workers as teachers, lawyers, or doctors. Our town was a shop economy. (more…)