
The Business of Your Joy
12 minGolden Hook & Introduction
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Mark: Alright, Michelle. Feeding the Soul by Tabitha Brown. Give me your five-word review. Michelle: Okay... "Honey, that's your own business." Mark: Ha! Perfect. Mine is: "Your joy is not negotiable." Michelle: Ooh, I like that. That hits the core of it, doesn't it? It’s got this warmth but also this fierce, protective boundary. Mark: It really does. And for anyone who doesn't know, we're talking about Feeding the Soul (Because It's My Business) by Tabitha Brown. She's this incredible force of nature—an Emmy-winning host and actress who many call 'America's Mom.' What's fascinating is that her massive success, which seemed to happen overnight during the pandemic, was actually built on over two decades of struggle, a journey that is the heart and soul of this book. Michelle: And you feel that journey in every page. It’s not advice from an ivory tower; it’s wisdom from the trenches. The book is a #1 New York Times bestseller and an NAACP Image Award winner, and you can see why. It’s just so genuine. Mark: Exactly. And it all circles back to that title, which is also one of her famous catchphrases. Michelle: That phrase, "Because it's my business," can sound a little cold on the surface, right? Like, 'stay out of my stuff.' But that's not her vibe at all. What does she really mean by it?
The Gospel of Minding Your Own Business: Radical Self-Possession
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Mark: That’s the perfect place to start, because she completely reclaims that phrase. For Tabitha Brown, "minding your business" isn't about shutting people out. It's about radical self-possession. It's about defining your own life, your own joy, and your own path, and then protecting it with love and freedom. It's an internal job. Michelle: An internal job. I like that. It’s less about building a wall and more about tending to your own garden. Mark: Precisely. And she has this powerful story that illustrates it perfectly. When she was trying to make it as an actress in Hollywood, she was constantly told to change who she was. Specifically, her voice. She has this beautiful, warm, North Carolina accent. Michelle: Oh, I can already see where this is going. The classic 'you don't sound like a star' feedback. Mark: Exactly. She got hateful comments online. People called her a "country bumpkin." One of the most painful comments she shares is someone saying she "spoke like a slave." Michelle: Wow. That's brutal. That’s not just criticism; that’s an attack on her identity, her heritage. Mark: It was. And for years, she tried to hide it. She'd go into auditions and try to flatten her accent, to sound more "Hollywood." She was contorting herself to fit into a box that was never meant for her. And then one day, she had this profound realization. Michelle: What happened? Mark: She realized that by hiding her accent, she was telling the world she was ashamed. Ashamed of her parents, her grandparents, her home. She was ashamed of the very people and places that made her who she is. And in that moment, she decided she was done. She was going to speak in her own voice, with her own accent, and if people had a problem with it, that was their business, not hers. Michelle: That gives me chills. So, minding her business meant refusing to let their business—their prejudice, their ignorance—become her problem. Mark: Yes! That’s the core of it. She says, "Freedom is knowing you're enough." Her accent wasn't the problem. Their inability to accept it was the problem. And she decided she wasn't going to carry the weight of their issues anymore. She was going to focus on her own business, which was to be her authentic self. Michelle: It sounds like a defense mechanism, but in the best way possible. Like an emotional shield. Mark: I think she'd say it's more of an offensive strategy. You're not just defending against negativity; you're actively choosing joy. You're choosing to show up as yourself, and that act itself creates a positive force field. It's why she says, "Embrace what makes you unique, even if it makes others uncomfortable." Their comfort is not your responsibility. Michelle: Their comfort is not your business. Mark: There you go. That's the gospel of Tabitha Brown. It’s about taking all that energy you would spend worrying about what other people think and reinvesting it back into yourself, into your own gifts. She talks about how everyone is born with gifts, but so many of us let them die in the "cemetery" of our fears and insecurities. Michelle: That’s a powerful image. The richest place in the world is the cemetery. Mark: She uses that exact adage. She says her gift of "second sight," her intuition, was something she was scared of for years. She had these premonitions, these dreams that came true. She even prayed for God to take the gift away because a pastor got scared of her insights. Michelle: Oh, wow. So even people who are supposed to be spiritual guides can be afraid of a gift that doesn't fit their mold. Mark: Right. But a vision she had of her daughter being in danger on the freeway, which she was able to prevent, made her realize she had to embrace it. It was her business to use her gifts, not to hide them to make others feel safe. It's all connected—your voice, your gifts, your style. It's all your business to own and to love. Michelle: Okay, so this idea of "minding your business" is really about a fierce and loving commitment to your own soul, your own path. It's about protecting your inner peace from the outside world. Mark: And sometimes, as she points out, from your own past. Michelle: What do you mean? Mark: Well, it's one thing to protect yourself from the opinions of strangers. It's another thing entirely to protect yourself from the pain inflicted by people you love.
Permanent Lessons from Temporary Seasons: The Alchemy of Pain and Forgiveness
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Mark: And that idea of protecting your joy, even from your own pain, is the foundation for the second major idea in this book: how we handle our temporary seasons of struggle. She argues that every season, good or bad, is temporary. But the lessons we learn from them can be permanent, if we let them. Michelle: That’s a hopeful way to look at hardship. It’s not just pointless suffering; it’s a classroom. Mark: Exactly. But to graduate from that classroom, you have to do the final assignment, which for her is always forgiveness. And she shares one of the most difficult, heart-wrenching stories of forgiveness I've ever read. It involves her stepfather. Michelle: I remember this part. It was intense. Mark: To set the scene, her mother, who she was incredibly close to, was diagnosed with ALS. Her stepfather, who had been a loving figure in her life, couldn't handle the stress of her illness and became, in her words, angry and difficult. He took his frustration out on her dying mother. Michelle: That’s just devastating. To see someone you love being mistreated in their most vulnerable moments. Mark: And it gets worse. After her mother passed, Tabitha discovered recordings her mom had made, detailing the mistreatment. She was, understandably, filled with rage. She cut her stepfather out of her life completely. She couldn't even look at him. Michelle: I don't blame her. I think most people would react the same way. How do you even begin to forgive something like that? It feels impossible. Mark: That's the question, isn't it? And this is where her philosophy becomes so powerful. After about a year and a half of holding onto this anger, she felt a shift in her heart. She realized the grudge was a poison, and it was only hurting her. It was blocking her own peace, her own prosperity. And she makes this critical point: "Forgiveness is strictly for you. It’s for you to reclaim your power... It is the ticket to your freedom." Michelle: So it’s not about letting him off the hook. It’s about letting herself off the hook of having to carry that anger forever. Mark: Precisely. It's not about condoning his actions. It's about refusing to let his actions define her future. She wrote him a letter, telling him she forgave him. Not for him, but for her. Years later, he showed up at her sister's house on Christmas Day. She saw him, and instead of anger, she felt peace. She hugged him, and he broke down crying. Michelle: Wow. Mark: She later posted a picture of them together with the caption, "This is what forgiveness looks like." It’s this beautiful, full-circle moment. She learned that holding onto blame is a trap. As she puts it, "Blame is a prison that gives the illusion of freedom." Michelle: That is such a profound line. You think you're in control because you're holding someone accountable in your mind, but you're actually the one who's locked up. Mark: Yes. And when you connect it back to the first idea we talked about, it all clicks. Michelle: Wait, how so? Mark: Forgiving him was, in a way, the ultimate act of "minding her own business." Michelle: Oh, I see! Her business was her peace, her freedom, her ability to move forward. His actions, his guilt, his journey—that was his business. She had to take her hands off of his business to properly tend to her own. Mark: You got it. She had to clean up her own side of the street. She has another great metaphor for this. She tells a story from her childhood about being told to clean her room. Instead of actually cleaning, she just "straightened up"—shoving toys under the bed, dusting around her mom's collection of bells instead of picking each one up. Michelle: I think we've all been that kid. The superficial clean-up. Mark: Right. And her parents called her out. They told her, "There's a difference between straightening up and cleaning up." Straightening up leaves dirt under the surface, where it can be found. Cleaning up means dealing with the mess completely. She says that's what forgiveness is. It's not just straightening up your life to look okay on the outside. It's the deep, hard work of cleaning up the mess, so that when someone looks, all they find is you—whole and free.
Synthesis & Takeaways
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Michelle: That’s such a powerful way to connect it all. So "minding your business" and "forgiveness" are really two sides of the same coin. Mark: They are. The coin is radical self-liberation. It's about drawing a boundary around your own well-being and refusing to let external forces—whether it's someone's judgment about your accent or the memory of a past hurt—dictate your inner state. It’s about taking full, loving ownership of your life. Michelle: And it’s not a passive thing. It’s active. It’s a daily choice to show up for yourself, to do the work, to clean up, and to protect your joy. Mark: That’s the essence of it. The book is filled with her warm, funny, and deeply moving stories, but they all point back to this central truth: you have the power to create a life of love, joy, and freedom. But you have to be willing to mind your own business to do it. Michelle: It makes you think about what one thing you're holding onto—a grudge, a fear of judgment, a past failure—that isn't actually 'your business' to carry anymore. What weight could you set down today? Mark: That's a powerful question. And it’s a very personal one. Her book is full of these moments that make you turn inward and examine your own life, your own "business." Michelle: And she does it with such grace and humor. It never feels like a lecture. It feels like a conversation with a wise, loving friend who just happens to make amazing vegan recipes on the side. Mark: Which are also in the book! We didn't even get to the Vegan Pulled Pork or the Lobster Mushroom Pasta. But even her approach to food is the same: cook by the spirit, trust yourself, do what feels right for you. It's all part of the same philosophy. Michelle: It really is. It’s a holistic guide to living. It’s not just about what you do, but the spirit in which you do it. Mark: That’s a perfect way to put it. The book is a testament to the idea that the transformations on the inside always show up as transformations on the outside. Michelle: That's a hopeful thought to end on. It puts the power right back in your own hands. Mark: It does. That’s a powerful question. We'd love to hear what this brings up for you. Find us on our socials and share one 'temporary season' that taught you a permanent lesson. Michelle: We’d love to hear your stories. Mark: This is Aibrary, signing off.