I want to be a dominatrix. Or a prophet. Maybe both.

I learned about the Domino Project today, thanks to Jonathan Field’s blog post on Seth Godin‘s newest book, Poke the Box. (Enough hyperlinks in one sentence?) I’m totally smitten. You can read about it to your heart’s content – which I’d strongly encourage – but I want to share one aspect of it that swirls in my head and heart.

We are reinventing what it means to be a publisher, and along the way, spreading ideas that we’re proud to spread. Our core beliefs:

• Exceptionally high quality ideas, created without regard for what bookstores and middlemen want.
• Ideas packaged with cogency and urgency in mind, not a word wasted, no filler.
• Permission at the heart of the model. Ideas for our readers, not more readers for our ideas.

Clearly, book publishing is the context, but when my eyes scanned those words, I read between the lines. I do that a lot. And what’s embedded within is what I desperately needed to hear. I’m guessing you do, as well.

What we want, really, no matter the context, is the opportunity to live our lives in full-of-passion ways. We want to blaze. To live out loud. To stand on the mountaintop and shout, sing, or dance with no concern for what others think; no thought of whether or not we’re crazy or marketable or worthy.

I’m sure there is a male counterpart, but let me stick to my own gender and call this what it is:

We want to be dominatrix’s.

I don’t mean this in its sado-masochistic form. I mean “a woman who dominates.” I mean a woman who knows her own value, who proclaims her worth(iness), and who pursues her desires at any cost. I mean me.

I want to be a dominatrix.

Of my choices. Of my thoughts and emotions. Of my money. Of my words. And more than anything, of my belief in me; a deep, unshakable grip on who I am and what I have to offer. My value. My vision. My voice.

OK. Back to Seth Godin…sort of.

Exceptionally high quality ideas, created without regard for what bookstores and middlemen want.

What if we valued our ideas at such a level that we created, imagined, and IMPLEMENTED without concern for tradition, power structures or who will (or will not) like what we have to say? Dominatrix, baby.

Ideas packaged with cogency and urgency in mind, not a word wasted, no filler.

What if we felt such urgency behind the things around which we have smart, savvy, sophisticated passion that we couldn’t imagine wasting a single second, a single word, a single action? Mmm hmm.

Permission at the heart of the model. Ideas for our readers, not more readers for our ideas.

What if we gave ourselves permission to really believe in ourselves; to really believe that everyone else is sitting on the edge of their seats for exactly what we have to offer? Hear the crack of that whip!

This is huge.

I’ve been doing a ton of branding work the past month or so (with shiny, brand-new web design showing up in just days, thanks to VioletMinded Design). In the process, I’ve had to grapple with how easily I get sidetracked by my concern paranoia over how I will be perceived, if I will be (mis)understood; morphing myself into what I think others want of/from me. And in the process, losing the value of my uniqueness, my message, my passion. Wasting words and time. And certainly not giving myself permission to believe in myself or what I have to offer others. I’m hardly shouting from the mountaintop. Even less, wearing black leather.

Here are the words that have come to me again and again: Be the prophet, Ronna.

I am a prophet.

Even typing them scares the hell out of me. Enough. It’s time to dominate; to take charge of my self-editing and censoring (the very things I tell others not to do); to claim my turf, my message, me. To be the prophet.

A prophet is a truth-teller. A prophet is one who says what needs to be said – without concern for the cost, the risk, the way the words, thoughts, or ideas will be received. Deep breath. That’s me: standing on the mountaintop, proclaiming the message…and wearing black leather.

But this isn’t just about me. I believe that all women are prophets.

Whether by conscious choice or circumstantial demand, women inherently and instinctively are prophets. We inherently and instinctively see and know truth – deep in our bones. We don’t want to incur the risk of speaking truth and we must. We don’t want to bear the cost or harm of saying what others don’t want to hear and we can’t not. We’re caught between the proverbial rock and hard place. Clearly, we are prophets. (From a post I wrote over a year ago: Prophets. Truth-Tellers. Women.)

A prophet. A dominatrix. Me. And yes, you. Shatter the damn rock and hard place. There’s stuff that needs to be said. Things that need to be done. Mountaintops to shout from. And black leather to be worn!

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