52 Cups of Coffee

Remembering How to Begin

Wed, 10 Apr 2013 14:21:29 -0400

I forgot how to be a beginner.

Or perhaps, more accurately, I thought I was done being a beginner.

It happened right around the time I graduated from college although I didn’t realize it until a few weeks ago. Being a curious and ambitious kid, I grew up looking for challenges. From as early as I can remember anytime something sparked my interest I’d dive right in and see where curiosity and practice would lead. I didn’t overanalyze or assess the challenge because the spark of inspiration was enough incentive to fervently devote myself to the activity until I felt I’d sufficiently mastered it. The satisfaction of accomplishing a goal after investing immense passion and hard work was addicting.

I know how to unicycle because when I was in sixth grade my cousin gave me his old unicycle he hadn’t ridden in years. I spent six days straight practicing until I could ride down my street in one go. It wasn’t necessarily because I wanted to learn to unicycle but rather because I saw the hand-me-down as a challenge and I couldn’t pass up a good challenge.

The thing about jumping into new things is that there is an unavoidable beginners phase. Throughout junior high and high school, I loved that beginning phase because it was tough. It was test of mettle and courage. My sophomore year of high school I got involved in a business competition called DECA. When I joined I was probably about 40 percent proficient at the competition—I was smart, creative and had a basic understanding of business, which gave me a good foundation but I definitely had no idea was I was doing.

It was a really competitive program and, being a competitive person, I had my sights on rising up through the ranks and being one of the dozen or so kids that got to go to the national competition. That motivation kept me working hard, embracing the long hours and tough challenges. With time and practice, my skills increased and by the time I graduated from high school I’d won nationals twice. I started as a beginner at 40 percent and finished my DECA run in the 90-100 zone.

This is a pretty simple formula that everyone at some point or another has presumably followed.

It’s a good formula to follow—being a beginner involves passion and hunger with endless opportunities to grow and learn.

The opposite of a beginner is an expert—a person with knowledge and expertise, a person that isn’t making basic mistakes and struggling to find footing a confidence in a certain skill.

By the time I hit my senior year of college I had left the beginner zone. I wasn’t an expert but, like many seniors, felt like I’d gotten the hang of things. I knew what I needed to know to get a degree and was involved in projects that had started gaining traction. It’s a lot like how I felt when I was a senior in high school—I’d come in at the bottom of the totem pole and worked my way up.

However, there was an important difference between high school and college. In high school I mentally prepared to go back to being the small fish in a big pond—that pond being Michigan State University.

What tripped me up with college graduation was that I forgot that I was going to be a small fish again. I mistakenly took my degree as a symbol of expertise and competence that meant I was done being a beginner. Now that I was a college graduate I felt people expected certain things out of me—especially because of my accomplishments in college.

After traveling for year I accepted my first real job and looked forward to moving to San Francisco to start the next chapter. That was nine months ago and I can easily say that past nine months have been the most wonderful, yet challenging, nine months of my life. I finally am able to put my finger on why.

There has been a disconnect between what I think I’m suppose to be doing and what I am actually doing. I feel like I could be doing my job better, living my life better, working on my side projects better. Despite my best efforts I couldn’t shrink the gap and the result was a growing frustration with myself followed by a negative thought cycle about my worth and competence.

I was talking with a close friend about everything on my mind and her response was, “I think this job and move to SF are really good for you—it sounds like it’s been a very humbling experience.”

Her words stuck a chord within me and reminded me of Cup 13. My conversation with Dave Isbell focused on humility and sacrifice. I went back and reread the post, which really hit home:

So I understood what it meant to make sacrifices, but somewhere along my college journey, I forgot. It was easy to do. I’m in college! I have the freedom to do what I want! I’m having the time of my life! I don’t want to talk about sacrifice!

Then graduation day arrives and reality sets in.

Dave sees this happen often. Young graduates go out into the world full of pride and excessive confidence only to be humbled when the burdens of life catch up to them.

I unknowingly did exactly what Dave predicted I would do. He and my close friend were spot on—my anxiety was the result of unrealistic expectations. I realized it wasn’t that I wasn’t competent, I was just overly confident in my abilities and the difference between my confidence and competence were creating the frustrating disconnect.

This first real job is the first time I’ve jumped into a new project without approaching it from a beginners perspective. I thought I was already supposed to know everything. I thought I was supposed to be good at everything from the start. That’s why they hired me, right?

I overlooked that my company saw me as a beginner. They hired me because they had faith in my abilities but they knew that there would be a learning curve and over time I would grow into the position.

Knowing that when I started would have been wildly helpful. I would have looked at the new job as a challenge to be embraced with passion and hustle. Instead, I jumped into the job with unrealistic expectations and lots of self-induced pressure to excel. Had I jumped into DECA expecting to operate at 80-90 percent proficiency I would have been quickly overwhelmed and disheartened. Instead of being excited about getting better I would have been overly critical about not being good enough. I would have quit long before nationals were a possibility.

Excitement to achieve a goal is significantly more motivating than walking around with an excess of anxiety and pressure on your shoulders. It took me nine months to figure that out and since I’ve figured it out I’ve been able to reframe my current situation and tackle challenges with a new sense of enthusiasm.

It’s an amazing feeing that I didn’t know I’d been missing.

It’s also an amazing lesson—if you’re always trying new things, you’ll always be a beginner. Regardless of previous success.

Your past experiences can make you better at whatever it is that you’re beginning, but whatever your skills, you don’t get to skip the challenging (and often awkward or uncomfortable) beginning stage.

If you do skip it you’re clearly not tackling big enough challenges. Plus, you’re missing out on the fun of new beginnings—because with the right attitude, new beginnings are a lot of fun.

It’s just really easy to forget that when anxiety and stress weasel themselves into the situation.

So on that note: here’s to a beginners’ mindset for all the wonderful challenges life will bring and the adventures that happen as a result.

52 Cups Anniversary

Sat, 08 Dec 2012 02:10:00 -0500

It was a year ago yesterday that I hit publish on the final Cup of my 52 Cups adventure.

I know this is cliche, but it was a moment I’ll never forget.

I was staying in a trendy Airbnb apartment in the Mission District, sitting at this beautiful wooden table with incredible sunlight streaming through the window. It was quiet. Calm. Just me, my computer and my thoughts.

I should have finished the project before December 1st but I kept dragging my feet in the same way one drags their feet when telling a loved one goodbye. I knew the project had to end but I wasn’t ready to accept that fact. The term pet-project was fitting for 52 Cups. The blog required constant attention and nurturing. It nestled itself into the center of my life and I in turn grew wildly fond of it. It followed me around through a milestone year, college graduation and over six months of nomadic living. It became a part of me.

But on the morning of December 6th, I woke up knowing it was time to complete the goal. I grabbed my notebook and headed to the funky Mexican/American hybrid cafe, Boogaloos, where I ordered eggs, bacon, and my last Cup of coffee.

It was a slow Tuesday, which made the restaurant a peaceful place to hang out with my thoughts. The plan was to get a rough draft on paper and polish it on my computer later that afternoon. The goal was not to over think it. I knew I couldn’t fit everything I wanted to say in under 1,000 words so I wasn’t going to force the post, I decided to just speak from the heart.

…

Writing, as I learned early in the project, is a labor of love. After nearly an hour in the coffee shop I returned to the apartment to finalize my thoughts—a process that involved many despairing moments where my elbows ended up on the table with my face buried in my hands wondering why I decided to attempt writing in the first place (this happened at some point during every Cup). When I’d reached the end of the post and felt satisfied with the results, I reached out to my friend Jeannine online. I hadn’t told anyone I was working on the post but I wanted someone to give it a once-over before posting and Jeannine was a willing volunteer. (At the time of asking for her help, I never would have predicted that a year later we’d be taking a trip to Antarctica together, but like 52 Cups taught me time and time again, you never know where a connection will lead).

When Jeannine send it back with her seal of approval I read through it one more time, plugged it into Tumblr, took a deep breath and hit publish.

Then I sat there.

Waiting for something to happen.

I don’t know what I was waiting for. As silly as sounds, I had a strange premonition that my computer would explode.

It didn’t.

Instead, what happened was silence. The type of silence that reveals a void and simultaneously carries the weight of the world because while you don’t know what happens next, you know life will never be the same.

That’s when the first red Facebook notification button popped up. Someone liked the post. Then someone else. And another.

And another.

It was the beginning of a flood of digital well-wishes: emails, tweets, comments and texts celebrating and congratulating the 52nd Cup.

It was both overwhelming and wonderful to realize something that meant so much to me meant a lot to others. It was a moment filled with gratitude and elation—a moment, or string of moments rather, that I’ll never forget.

…

The people I met and stories I heard through the 52 Cups experiment spring-boarded me into one heck of an adventurous year that led me back to to where I was exactly a year ago: San Francisco. Except this time I’m a resident, not a visitor. As much as I loved the nomadic lifestyle I found it increasingly more difficult to write and focus on projects while on the road. I realized I wanted to slow down so I could regain my focus and get back to working on challenging projects. I love challenging projects.

It’s been five months since I made that decision and while life hasn’t slowed down much, I feel settled into this new city and ready to start a new project where the old one left off.

Here’s to 2013 and what is sure to be another adventurous year!

Thank you for following the journey.

An Update from Argentina!

Wed, 21 Nov 2012 02:55:00 -0500

It’s been an adventurous week as my friend Jeannine and I have worked our way south en route to Antarctica. Here’s an update from our latest (and unexpected) travel extravaganza.

…

We’re ready for our second attempt at getting to Ushuaia.

It’s been a crazy day to say the least. We checked into our hotel this morning at 7 am, slept until noon, hung out around the hotel until 2 am and are now (3:15 am) waiting with other hopeful passengers to see if we can check into our 7:25 am flight.

(We’ve been posting more frequently to our Facebook page, so check there for full details: http://www.facebook.com/thanksgivingwithauntarctica)

Do to a nationwide strike, the airport was shut down for 24 hours starting yesterday at midnight. We were planning on heading to the airport at 4:30 Tuesday morning to catch our 7:30 am flight to Ushuaia (where we get on the boat) but found out through our Airbnb hosts that protesters were shutting down the road so if we didn’t get on the road by midnight, we would make it to the airport the following morning. This was at 10:30 pm and by 11:30 pm we were all packed and in a cab headed to the airport. At 2 am, we discovered our flight was cancelled because all flights were canceled.

Fortunately, we were able to secure two seats on the Wednesday morning flight and found a hotel room nearby that offered free transportation to and from the airport. In short, the past 24 hours have been unlike any airport experience we’ve had:

Arrived at the airport at midnight only to wait near the checkin desks until 5 am
Scheduled taxi pick up at 6 am and checked into a hotel room at 7 am.
Slept until 1:30 pm.
Explored the very interested shopping complex where the hotel was located for a couple hours.
Cat napped at 10 pm.
Checked out of the hotel at 2 am.
Arrived at the airport at 2:30 am with hopes of leaving on a jetplane at 7:30.

Our days and nights have been all sorts of crazy the past five days. It’s been incredibly fun though. The kind of fun with a layer of anxiety that won’t go away until we’re on a plane getting ready to take off.

With travel, especially international travel, it’s best to expect the unexpected and roll with the punches, which is what we’ve done and so far things are working out for us, all things considered.

We appreciate all the thoughtful words of encouragement. We’re crossing our fingers we’re on the plane and in the sky within the next five hours so the adventure south can continue!

We’ll keep you posted.

Thanksgiving with Aunt Arctica

Thu, 08 Nov 2012 02:13:00 -0500

Serendipity: the faculty of making fortunate discoveries by accident

When I graduated from Michigan State University 18 months ago, the whole world was ahead of me. I’d gone to school and gotten my degree. I was ready for whatever came next.

Ready, but uncertain.

It wasn’t a stressful uncertainty, it was an optimistic one. I had decided the previous December that I was throwing all post-graduation plans out the window and replacing them with a two-month trip to Europe. I decided I would figure out the rest of my life when I got home.

The decision was both courageous and crazy, (probably more of one than the other depending on your perspective) but I knew with certainty it was the right choice. Early that year, I’d fallen in love with the quote:

Sometimes you just have to take the leap and build your wings on the way down.

I trusted that I could jump into the wild unknown and land on my feet. I also trusted that if I didn’t land on my feet I’d put bandage on my pride and accept any job that would get me back on my feet—in terms of worst case scenarios, that’s a pretty mild case.

With that in mind, I packed my bags, boarded a plane and embarked on what would become a whirlwind adventure. My two month European adventure turned into a year-long adventure of nomadic living during which time I visited over 75 cities, took four road trips, surfed for the first time, visited friends, milked cows, spent time with family, went skydiving, had my car stolen, watched friends get married, drank coffee, took pictures, and most importantly: met incredible people.

It was a magical year because it was filled with so many wonderful people.

Over the course of the year, I learned that it is the people you surround yourself with that have the greatest impact on your future. The process of meeting and spending time with a diverse set of people led to unexpected friendships and that took my life in equally unexpected directions.

Case in point: over the course of my nomadic year, Jeannine became one of my best friends and now we’re headed to Antarctica.

It’s an adventure we’re amusingly referred to as Thanksgiving with Aunt Arctica.

Why?

Because it’s a funny pun.

Oh! You’re wondering why we’re going Antarctica. It’s a complicated story and the easiest explanation is that a spontaneous conversation led to an idea that spiraled into a project that start with a trip to Antarctica.

November 16th is the start a two week adventure filled with new experiences and more importantly, new friends. All of which we want to share via stories, photos and video here and on Facebook.

We also want to share a tangible piece of the trip—postcards! There’s nothing better than receiving a postcard from Antarctica, right?

Actually there is: receiving a postcard and helping someone in the process. We have teamed up with charity: water to raise $700 dollars to provide clean water for those without. We will happily send a Postagram postcard from Antarctica to anyone willing to make a donation to the cause. It’s a fun and simple way to give a deserving family something to be thankful for this Thanksgiving.

You can sign up for a postcard here.

This trip to Antarctica is my chance to get back to writing stories about the people I meet and the lessons I learn in the process. If you want all the details of the trip Facebook is the place to find them although I will be posting an update or two here.

Cheers to another adventure!

…

Confessions of a Recovering Nomad

Mon, 17 Sep 2012 12:52:07 -0400

If you follow me over at megangebhart.com or on Twitter, you know that the past year and a half has been a wild nomadic adventure for me. The stories I heard and friendships I made during the process of 52 Cups motivated me to trust my gut, give up the job search and just travel. A two-month European adventure turned into a year of rent-free living where I averaged being in a new city every four days.

It was a fantastic adventure, but it’s time for me to make a long overdue announcement.

There’s no easy way to say this so I’ll just say it outright:

I moved.

To an apartment.

In a city.

That means that my days of nomadic living have come to an end (at least for the time being, anyways).

I moved to San Francisco in late July and you’re probably thinking, What!? You’re just now writing about this? I know, I know. I should have said something about it sooner but I couldn’t bring myself to write the post.

Not because I’m sad about the move. I fell in love with San Francisco three years ago and after visiting 75 cities in the past year I know there is no other city I would rather be in full-time. I held off talking about it because telling the world I’d moved made it official. A blog post was my way of ending a chapter of my life—the nomad chapter—and it’s always hard to let go of something wonderful.

But in my heart, I knew it was time to change directions.

I have some big goals on my to-do list that I kept putting off because the roller coaster of constant travel was too exhilarating.

I decided in June that it was time to put down some roots and started a job search in San Francisco. In mid-July I took an offer to join the Elance team as a College Evangelist. Elance is an online platform for freelancers to find work and I’m in charge of spreading the word to college campuses nationwide. That means my days of travel aren’t completely over (insert sigh of relief).

And, more importantly, my days of adventure aren’t over either. San Francisco is a city that inspires creativity and big dreams. What’s even better is that many of my best friends, and favorite schemers, live here so I’ve got lots of adventures up my sleeve.

Adventures that I have more time for now that I’m not spending so much time packing and unpacking my suitcase. So be prepared for more excited updates soon.

Cheers to a new chapter!

because interactive is all the rage

Wed, 09 May 2012 12:24:00 -0400

A question I often receive when I tell people out 52 Cups is, “Did you always go to the same coffee shop?”

The answer is no.

What started out as a simple experiment to talk to people in my community turned into an adventure that led me to many corners of the world. I met people in:

29 cities
12 states
7 countries
and 4 Skype meetings (pink dots)

I made a map to show the places I had coffee. Click here or on the picture below to open the map. Each dot has a description of the person I talked to and a link to the corresponding blog post.

Enjoy!

Hello!

Mon, 16 Jan 2012 23:14:00 -0500

To those that followed the project, I hope you’ve been well. It’s been too long since we last talked.

To those of you visiting 52 Cups for the first time, thanks for stopping by!

52 Cups of Coffee was my yearlong experiment in caffeine and conversation. I wanted to see what would happen if I spent a year talking to strangers so I invited 52 different people to coffee and asked them to tell me about their life and the lessons they’d learned along the way.

The result was 52 fascinating stories that fundamentally changed my outlook on life. You can find the list of people I talked to and lessons learned here, the inspiration behind the project here, and more info about where I was when I started the project here.

To see what other people had to say about the project, check here, here, and here. This is what I had to say about it at TEDxQueensU.

…

So what have I been up to since 52 Cups ended?

A lot of brainstorming. I learned a lot of great lessons through 52 Cups, now it’s time to put them to the test. It’s too soon to release the details, but I’m very excited about it and I think you will be too.

I’ll be in touch!

And if you’d like to get in touch with me, shoot me an email at megan.gebhart[at]gmail[dot]com or find me on Twitter.

Cup 52

Tue, 06 Dec 2011 19:54:00 -0500

It’s Tuesday morning and I’m sitting at an adorable breakfast spot in San Francisco eating some of the best bacon and eggs I’ve ever had while enjoying a cup of coffee that the waitress will refill at least three times before I leave.

All throughout senior year, people asked me where I’d be after graduation. I assumed I would be in a cubicle somewhere climbing the corporate ladder on the fast track to a promotion and increasingly impressive job title and salary.

Because that’s what you’re supposed to do with an expensive college degree.

And it’s probably what I would be doing if I hadn’t decided to do this crazy experiment in caffeine and conversation. I called it an experiment because I knew meeting 52 new people would change my life. I just didn’t know how.

I can tell you I didn’t expect it would inspire me to trade the job search for six months of traveling to 72 different locations in 15 countries. Six months of waking up excited about the uncertainty of where the day would take me.

Going into my senior year, the uncertainty of where life would take me after graduation created a crippling fear. I was stuck in the mindset that I had one shot to figure out my life. The day after graduation was the first day of the rest of my life and if I didn’t have the perfect plan—and the perfect job—in place I would be setting myself up for irreconcilable failure.

I don’t know where that thought came from, but I know it was a real fear. I also know that I’m incredibly grateful for those that helped me see the irrationality in my thinking.

It started during the first 10 Cups. I realized a very noticeable trend: nobody’s life went according to plan. Life throws you curveballs. Sometimes good ones: unexpectedly falling in love, discovering a passion, stumbling into an incredible career opportunity. And sometimes ones that test your strength: losing a loved one, experiencing a breakup, layoffs, unexpected illness or tragedy, major career failure, a downturn in the economy. The list goes on.

Understanding that life won’t go according to plan leaves you with two choices: let the fear of the unknown overwhelm you or embrace the uncertainty.

I’ll tell you from experience that the former is easier than the latter. For two reasons.

First, it takes a lot of faith (and confidence) to embrace uncertainty and believe you can handle what life throws your way. Faith I only found because I had a weekly conversation with people from various backgrounds reaffirming that, with the right approach, life works out.

The second reason is that finding the faith is only half the battle. The second half is executing the approach. If you are open to go where life takes you, you will end up in incredible places. However, you can’t sit back and expect a great life, you have to go out and make a great life.

The magic of sitting down with strangers—of putting yourself in a vulnerable position and taking time to genuinely learn about another person—is that you can put a story behind the advice. The advice becomes real and it becomes personal. I have a catalogue of anecdotes I now carry with me.

On days filled with obstacles I think about Piotr Pasik traveling to Europe and playing indoor soccer despite having limited mobility due to cerebral palsy. When my dreams feel too big I think about Tom Izzo’s determination as a graduate assistant for the MSU basketball team, living off a measly $4,000 salary at age 30, because that’s what he had to do in order to one day become the head coach.

When I think about what I want in a career I think about Torya Blanchard and what she calls her fight club moment—the moment she decided she was going to quit her job and cash in her 401K to start a (now-thriving) restaurant in Detroit. Then, when the fear of taking a risk sinks in, I hear Seth Godin’s voice in my head saying, “You’re not failing enough. I failed countless times before I was 30—and that’s what led to my success.”

Dave Isbell’s words echo the importance of staying humble while Dave Murray’s remind me that life is about more than creating a great life for yourself, it’s about giving back and creating a great life for others as well. Encountering a vibrant six-year-old evokes memories of my conversation with Abby, an adopted Native American girl in a town without much diversity, who taught me that everyone has an interesting story but too often we make assumptions instead of asking questions.

When I hear of tragedies I think of Betsy Miner-Swartz losing both of her parents to cancer in a year’s time and how she used the love and support of family and friends to make it through the pain, one step at a time. Then I ask myself when is the last time I told my loved ones how much I love them—because it’s easy to forget they could leave us at any moment.

This is just the tip of the iceberg. Every Cup changed me.

The best way to describe the change is a quote from Cup 51, Elaine Rosenblatt:

People need to learn to stop looking at life from the outside in and start looking from the inside out.

When I started 52 Cups, I was so concerned with living up to other people’s expectations—concerned with people the person others wanted me to be. Over the course of this project, I’ve realized that is no way to live life. I have to look inside and figure out who I am and decide where I want to fit into the world.

That’s why I decided to travel.

I followed my love for travel and hoped it would lead me to the next step. And it did. When I stopped looking for the perfect job and focused on what I loved, the perfect job found me. Michigan State’s Alumni Association offered me a six-month position where I travel to various cities and connect with young alumni—a great position for a traveler with a love for good conversation.

And what happens once that job is over?

I don’t know.

But it’s okay.

Because I know that if I can continue to figure out what I love to do, find the courage to do it, and do it well— life will work out—and I’ll have a lot of fun in the process.

…

It’s amazing what a little caffeine and conversation can do—if you’re willing to find out.

When I set out to meet 52 new people, I didn’t realize the most important person I’d meet was the person that 52 Cups made me.

Thank You

Tue, 29 Nov 2011 03:24:46 -0500

Before I post Cup 52 I want to take a moment to say thank you.

This may have been “one girl’s experiment” but it was anything but a solo venture. The beauty of this project comes from the wonderful people that have been a part of it.

From the 52 people willing to sit down and share their stories with me to the readers that kept me writing during the days I really didn’t want to write; you have made a profound difference in my life. And to my wonderful friends with unwavering encouragement, fantastic recommendations, and much-needed advice; please know I couldn’t have done this without you.

Of course, I’m not done yet. I’ve still got Cup 52 to post this week.

But I couldn’t finish the project without taking a moment to say,

Thank you.

It might just be two little words, but those two words hold a whole lot of love and appreciation.

Cup 51

Sun, 20 Nov 2011 14:15:00 -0500

Person: Elaine Rosenblatt

Drink: Grande Americano

Date: October 19, 2011

Location: Starbucks in Skokie, IL

I’m going to be upfront with you guys, Cup 51 was hard to write.

There are a lot of explanations, or rather excuses, for why but I think the most relevant one is that I don’t want this project to end because I don’t know what comes next. The irony is that this post is about learning to let go and moving on to something better.

…

I met with Elaine Rosenblatt on a windy and gloomy Wednesday. I had taken the train to the outskirts of the city and arrived at the Starbucks first. When Elaine walked in I recognized her immediately. She looked just like her son Brett, the stranger that invited me to coffee three years ago, became one of my best friends, and showed me the power of reaching out to people you don’t know. Elaine lives outside of Chicago and when I was invited to attend a fundraiser I decided to reach out to her. I thought it was fitting that she could help me end a project that her son helped me start. Plus I’d heard enough about her from Brett that I was certain she could give me good advice.

I caught Elaine’s attention and introduced myself before we stood in line to get coffee. Because of her warm and nurturing spirit and the fact that we had a lot in common, we were already deep in conversation by the time we sat down at a small table by the window.

I had a feeling the conversation was going to go in all different directions so I asked my most important question first—how did she end up where she is today. I really didn’t know anything about Elaine other than that she was a psychotherapist and has three sons. A mutual friend warned me that she’d likely be more interested in hearing my story than sharing hers so I was thankful when she launched into a narrative of her life.

It started out as a very simple story. For as long as she could remember, the only thing Elaine wanted to be when she grew up was a mom. She didn’t consider college or a career. She fell in love, got married and had a son in her early twenties. She had achieved her goal.

Of course that’s not where the story ends. It’s really where it begins.

Elaine’s marriage began to crumble, and before she knew it she found herself as a single mom with a child to support. Desperate for work, she took the first job she could find – working at a women’s care clinic where she unexpectedly discovered a love for advocacy work.

As her involvement in her job increased, she gained national attention for her work, becoming a sought-after voice for women’s sexual rights, often doing radio interviews and speeches on the topic. Although she didn’t follow the traditional educational route, she was passionate and constantly worked to learn more about her field and advance.

In the process of building her career, she remarried and had two more kids (the youngest was Brett). She said that even with all of her career success, raising her three boys was her life’s greatest joy. Being a mom was a perfect fit for her nurturing spirit. It also helped her realize she had a natural ability to counsel others and help them through their problems. While engaged in advocacy work she started taking classes to become a certified divorce mediator, and then later became a psychotherapist.

Now calling Elaine a psychotherapist doesn’t capture her essence. Elaine is a strong, independent, complex and compassionate woman. Having coffee with her reminded me so much of that initial conversation I had with Brett—the conversation just clicked.

When I asked her how people get through a difficult divorce, her response was straightforward: “you just do.” Her son was depending on her; she had no choice but to find a way to get through the hardship.

That’s how our conversation took a deep dive into the nature of pain and hardships—two things that are inevitable in life. While that may seem like a somber topic, the conversation was very encouraging.

You see, it wasn’t until her strength was tested that she realized how strong she could be. It wasn’t until she was forced to find work that she realized she could create an incredible career for herself. It was because she could navigate through her own pain that she discovered she could help others navigate through theirs. In short, the unhappiness led her to a place of incredible happiness.

But it didn’t happen overnight.

When she married her first husband she expected to stay married to him forever and built her hopes and dreams around that scenario. It’s something we all do. We become attached to visions of the future—expected outcomes we have little control over—until the illusion feels like reality.

Then something happens—the relationship falls apart, the job wasn’t all that it’s cracked up to be, the economy takes a left turn—and the illusion, along with the feeling of security, is shattered.

It’s a story that’s happened to everyone at some point and a story Elaine hears frequently at work. The advice she gives really comes down to three-steps: grieve, believe, and wait out the discomfort (my words not hers).

When a major life change happens it’s alright (and normal!) to be upset. Trying to cover up or numb the pain doesn’t make it go away any faster. The best course of action is to embrace it and give yourself time to grieve.

But in the process of grieving you shouldn’t lose sight of the light at the end of the tunnel. Faith, religion, optimism—call it what you want it—it’s hope for the future and if you can’t find it in yourself, find someone who can help you find it. Like Brett said last week when I called him on a particularly bad day: “history repeats itself—if you survived tough times in the past, you’ve proven you can survive tough times in the future.”

Then, once you’ve found the hope, accept that there’s going to be a period of discomfort. Elaine went back to the tunnel metaphor. You know there’s a light at the end but it’s going to be dark and uncertain for awhile. It’s an uncomfortable place to be, but if you keep pushing forward, you’ll make it to the end and be strong as a result.

…

While Elaine’s advice was centered on hardship, it is actually a solution for any change. It’s a process for saying goodbye to what was and looking forward to what will be.

52 Cups has been a big part of my life for the last year. Now I have to prepare for a post 52 Cups life. Leaving the security of this project for the unknown of the next project is a little uncomfortable. Coffee with Elaine reminded me that 52 Cups has prepared me for what’s next. While closing this chapter of my life is difficult, I can embrace the change and use the experience to make the next chapter better than the last.

I have to hold onto that mentality through both the good and the bad. Elaine’s story is proof that keeping that mentality—through both the good and the bad—helps you navigate this crazy and unpredictable life.

And find happiness in the process.

Thanks, Elaine.

Cups 51 and 52 are on the way!

Tue, 15 Nov 2011 11:27:00 -0500

.

I promise

I’ve already done the drinking. Now I just have to do the writing.

I’ve been traveling a lot lately, which has made writing harder than usual. But that’s not the real reason behind the delayed posts. I’ve come down with a case of Writer’s Block, which is inconvenient considering I’m so close to the end.

I suppose it makes sense. This project has meant so much to me that it’s hard to see it go and I want to make sure I give it an adequate farewell. I want the last two cups to be good enough for all the people that have followed me through this journey. However that’s stopping me from writing anything, which simply won’t do.

Leave it to Cup 38, author Seth Godin, to help me realize this. He writes an amazing blog and this is one of my favorite posts:

With that—I’m going to get these two posts finished and upload them shortly. Thank you for your patience and, as always, your support.

Cup 50

Thu, 27 Oct 2011 18:35:00 -0400

Person: Clark Bunting

Drink: Medium house coffee

Date: September 19, 2011

Location: The cafe inside the Discovery Channel headquarters

Clark Bunting is the president and general manager of Discovery Channel. For the past 25 years, he has been a part of the team that has brought programs like Planet Earth, Shark Week, and Deadliest Catch to life.

He’s also a proud Spartan so I reached out to him to see if he’d meet me for coffee.

He said yes and a few weeks later I was at the Discovery Headquarters outside of Washington, DC. When I walked into the lobby I found a massive dinosaur skeleton, walls lined with photos of network celebrities, and a great assortment of memorabilia from Discovery shows.

(A month after getting coffee I ran into Clark at Michigan State at an awards gala).

After going through security, Clark’s assistant Laurie met me in the lobby. We took the elevator up to Clark’s floor and I waited for him in a small conference room (where a picture of Dirty Jobs star Mike Rowe covered in mud stared at me). Clark walked in and introduced himself before we jumped into a conversation that continued as we took the elevator down to get coffee on the first floor.

Clark is often called the guy that started Shark Week, so I couldn’t resist asking him how he felt being known for such a cult classic TV event. He quickly pointed out that it was a team effort before sharing a few amusing stories from the production. From working with Andy Samburg to orchestrating live video shoots of sharks feeding in the middle of the ocean, it’s obvious that Clark’s job is really cool.

He had plenty of stories to share with me as we headed back to the small conference room to continue our conversation about the experiences and insights he’s picked up during his last 25 years at Discovery.

…

Clark’s original plan was a career on Capitol Hill. After receiving a master’s degree from Michigan State University, he and his wife moved to Washington, DC where he got a job working as a legislative assistant. It was during this job that he realized politics might not be the route for him. He looked at many of the lifestyles of the people that had been on the hill for years; perpetually stressed and overworked, a high number of failed marriages, and problems with substance abuse. It wasn’t the lifestyle he wanted so he decided to look for a job elsewhere.

The job he found was with a very young company called Cable Educational Network. He met with the founder, John Hendricks, and realized they shared a similar vision and entrepreneurial spirit. At the time, a big void existed in television programming—there were news, sports, and entertainment channels, but nothing educational. Cable Educational Network set out to change that. The company grew rapidly, changed their name to Discovery Channel, and became the most distributed channel in the world.

Clark, who was one of the original employees, played a pivotal role in the company’s growth. He helped bring many of Discovery’s popular programs to life before taking over as president in 2010. It’s a role that he takes very seriously because the shows they produce have an impact on millions of viewers around the world. It’s also a role that has led to a lot of fun.

At one point in his career he was dangling a dead chicken over a hungry croc while Steve Irwin coached him through the feeding process (certainly nothing he expected when he responded to the classified ad). Clark said moments like that make you pause and think—how did I get myself into this position?

The answer to that question is a bit of luck mixed with creativity, passion and a lot of hard work. More importantly, he found meaning in the work. Discovery Channel uses the power of entertainment to bring light to important issues. Clark used Steve Irwin as an example. The two became close friends when Clark helped create and produce The Crocodile Hunter. The show, which became wildly popular, served a greater role than just entertainment. Clark said Steve’s genius was his ability to get people to care. He wasn’t just a crazy Aussie playing with reptiles—he was a passionate environmentalist that helped people see the world from a new perspective and generate positive environmental change.

Clark explained that Discovery has succeeded because two things hold true for people: 1) they are naturally curious, and 2) they love to hear a good story. The Crocodile Hunter wasn’t the only show that told intriguing stories that served a greater purpose; Planet Earth was a remarkable series that let people gain a new appreciation and concern for the environment, Shark Week helped pass a law to ban shark finning, and shows like Myth Busters get viewers excited about science.

As I listened to Clark talk, I was fascinated by the realization that he ultimately achieved the goal he was pursuing on Capitol Hill—but he had to leave the Hill to do it. His goal was to affect laws and generate positive change. While he thought politics would be the way to do that, he discovered that entertainment was actually the solution. It reminded me of something Randy Pausch said in his famous Last Lecture:

“It’s not about how to achieve your dreams, it’s about how to lead your life, … If you lead your life the right way, the karma will take care of itself, the dreams will come to you.”

Clark has lived his life around a certain moral foundation—he wanted to lead a good life for himself and his family, and he wanted to do work that mattered. It may have been a stroke of luck that he stumbled into a great opportunity, but luck won’t make you the president of a major company—Clark has worked hard to make Discovery Channel something fantastic. He leads his life with integrity and the result is an incredible career that has changed lives.

There were a lot of personal take-aways from Cup 50, but the most valuable lesson is a reminder that the way you get from Point A (the start of a career) to Point B (the end) isn’t going to be a straight line. But if you keep moving forward, if you have a goal you’re shooting for—and the right mix of hard work and passion—you’ll get there.

Probably not in the way you expect.

Or in the time frame you think.

But if you persevere and live right—you’ll get there, and hopefully have fun in the process.

See more pictures from the Cup 49 adventure here

Mon, 10 Oct 2011 12:16:20 -0400

See more pictures from the Cup 49 adventure here

Cup 49

Mon, 10 Oct 2011 12:05:00 -0400

Person: Steve Googin

Drink: Fresh cow milk

Date: September 15, 2011

Location: Greyrock Farm outside of Syracuse, NY

Cup 49 did not involve any coffee. But it did include raw cow milk.

I bet you didn’t see that coming. I didn’t either.

It all began when a crazy idea infiltrated my mind while filling up my car for an eight-day road trip:

I should find a way to milk a cow!

In all honesty, I have no idea where these ideas come from. Luckily, I knew my travel companion Rachel would be game for the challenge so when I picked her up, I told her the idea and we began our quest to make it happen. There’s not exactly protocol for finding a cow to milk, so we resorted to telling any stranger we ran into about our goal in hopes we’d somehow find a lead to a dairy cow.

Our strategy worked. We met a wonderful young woman named Abigail through a travel service called Airbnb, which allows people to rent out space in their homes. We stayed at her beautiful home outside of Syracuse, New York and the three of us stayed up late into the night getting to know each other. At some point we brought up our cow milking quest and Abigail knew the perfect person to help us make it happen—Steve Googin, an acquaintance of hers that worked at an area farm.

She gave us his phone number, we sent a few text messages, and the the next day Rachel and I were tromping around a Greyrock Farm learning about crops, cattle, and community supported agriculture.

…

Community supported agriculture is a socio-economic model of agriculture where individuals in the community pay a membership fee and in return receive a box of fresh produce each week throughout the farming season. The result is that members of the CSA get local produce picked at the peak of freshness and farmers have more financial stability and get to connect with the people that eat their food. CSAs have been around for years but the model has recently grown in popularity.

Rachel and I were lucky to visit Greyrock on a pickup day, which meant during the few hours we toured the farm, carloads of individuals and families showed up to pick veggies from the neatly stocked bins inside one of the barns. Each person that walked into the barn was welcomed with a friendly hello from Steve and the other farmers. It was clear that Greyrock was more than just a farm, it was a community of people that cared about each other.

I had never heard of CSAs but listening to Steve explain the details and watching dozens of members leave with armloads of veggies and smiles on their faces—I loved the idea. It seemed like a desirable alternative to shopping for veggies under the fluorescent lights of an impersonal big box store. The passion in Steve’s voice as he told us the history of the farm and his own story only intensified our fascination for supporting local farming.

At one time Greyrock was a dairy farm run my two women. As the women got older they needed someone to take over. That’s when they found Matt Volz, a young farmer looking to start a CSA. Matt convinced Steve, who was a friend from high school, to join the crew and although the idea of joining a small, sustainable farm in the middle of nowhere might have seemed a little crazy, Steve was easily convinced. He was passionate about the idea and could see its potential to positively impact the community.

…

After the tour we got down to business. Steve led the two dairy cows into the barn for their afternoon milking while Rachel and I nervously followed. It was clear that the cows were used to—and looked forward to—this part of their afternoon. It was also clear Rachel and I had no idea what we were doing. Luckily Steve was a great teacher and patiently walked us through the process.

It’s difficult to accurately describe what milking a cow feels like—I suppose awkward and a little frustrating are fitting adjectives. Most of the milk ended up on the ground instead of the milk bucket but it was a fun experience nonetheless. If you ever get the chance, definitely try it.

After Rachel and I both had a chance to try Steve took over and later offered us a taste of raw milk that had been refrigerated after the early morning milking. I figured it was an acceptable substitution for a cup of coffee—and also a delicious way to celebrate that we’d accomplished our crazy goal to milk a cow.

…

Now is milking a cow a spectacular accomplishment? Not really. People do it everyday.

But what is cause for celebration is the fact that we turned a crazy idea into a reality. What we were really celebrating was a mentality; a pursuit. Two mentalities actually—our attempt to accomplish a challenge and Greyrock’s attempt to innovate a better food system in its community.

What began as something nonsensical turned into a valuable experience—a lesson in the importance of understanding where food comes and its ability to build community and nourish the spirit. When we left the farm, we had armfuls of fresh veggies and new friends. We had great memories and new knowledge (we also had more great pictures you can see here).

That wouldn’t have happened if we had dismissed the crazy idea before giving it a chance. It wouldn’t have happened if we hadn’t accepting the challenge and followed our curiosity.

The more I thought about Cup 49, the harder it was to keep the words of Steve Jobs out of my head. I first heard his Stanford commencement speech a few years ago but watched it again after countless people shared the link after his passing. Within the speech is a quote that I often repeat to myself:

Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life.

Jobs continues, “Don’t be trapped by dogma — which is living with the results of other people’s thinking. Don’t let the noise of others’ opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.”

Cup 49 was an adventure, a new experience, and, most importantly, a reminder to chase crazy dreams.

Because most great ideas are crazy—until they work.

Cup 48

Tue, 27 Sep 2011 12:08:00 -0400

Person: Steve Schram

Drink: Green Tea

Date: September 12, 2011

Location: Michigan Radio Office in Ann Arbor, Michigan

Nobody can do it all by themselves.

…

The Monday I drove to Ann Arbor to meet Steve Schram I wasn’t in the best spirits. I’d had one of those weekends where everything felt uncertain: the ground I was standing on didn’t feel solid, I questioned every choice I was making, and I worried I was setting goals I wasn’t fit to achieve.

In short, my confidence had faltered.

It happens to everyone. With 365 days in a year, you’re bound to have a handful of bad ones. Really, you’re lucky if you only have a handful.

My focus over the past few weeks has been determining what happens after my post-college travels come to an end. I want to continue traveling, but my dwindling bank account is a constant reminder that I’ve got to find a way to make it financially feasible.

One of the greatest lessons I’ve learned through 52 Cups is that with the right combination of passion, courage, persistence and elbow grease, you can make anything happen. That’s why I’m pursing what I really want in a career rather than settling on a corporate 9-5 that doesn’t fit me. This pursuit has more uncertainty and risk than the typical job route, but I can handle the uncertainty because I’ve heard enough success stories to know the end result will be well worth the effort.

Okay, saying I can handle the uncertainty is not entirely true. A more accurate statement is that I can handle the uncertainty 95 percent of the time. The weekend before Cup 48 falls into the five percent of time I worry I’ve bitten off more than I can chew and am too naive to notice.

That’s why I went to have coffee with Steve Schram.

The only thing I knew about Steve—aside from his job title of Director of Public Media at Michigan Radio—was that he is a close friend of one of my greatest mentors, Scott Westerman. During a conversation with Scott, I said I needed to have coffee with someone that gave good advice. Scott said Steve was the perfect person for good advice so I set up a meeting and hit the road to Ann Arbor.

…

I arrived at the Michigan Radio office in downtown Ann Arbor, Steve gave me a warm welcome before getting us both a cup of green tea from the break room. Then we started the conversation by exchanging stories about how we both knew Scott. I explained that I’d met Scott two years ago through my involvement with entrepreneurship at MSU.

Steve told me he met Scott over 30 years ago through his involvement with campus radio at MSU. When Steve and Scott were in college, the campus radio scene was hot. There were six campus stations (one for each of the housing complexes) and over 125 students involved in the production and broadcast. This was back before iTunes, YouTube and Spotify made music accessible with just a few clicks. Back then if you wanted to hear the hottest track you had to tune into the radio or call and request the song from the DJ.

Steve was one of those DJs and he loved it. From a young age he knew he wanted to be in radio. During high school he and a group of friends created a pirate radio station that they programmed every day after school. They treated it just like a regular station and focused on making it as professional as possible. Joining campus radio at Michigan State was an obvious next step and one that led to a successful career in the radio industry. Steve told me he never needed to join a fraternity; his friends in campus radio were like family and that remains true today even after 30 years.

While I have very limited knowledge about radio, (i.e. I can turn it on and change the station, that’s about it) I understood what Steve was talking about. My “fraternity” in college was a group of entrepreneurs crazy enough to think they could each build a company of their own and excited to help others do the same.

When I told Steve this he replied that I would end up being friends with many of those students for the rest of my life. We’d go to each others’ weddings, celebrate career successes and more. He continued that it wasn’t just celebrating great moments, it was helping each other through the tough times too.

A few years ago, Scott’s daughter was getting married in Florida and Steve flew down to attend the wedding.

At the time, Scott had a great job but was a considering an opportunity at Michigan State. Steve could see the decision was weighing heavily on Scott’s mind so during the reception he pulled Scott outside to talk. He listened to Scott’s concerns before expressing his opinion that the job was a perfect fit; something certainly worth pursuing. Steve wasn’t trying to tell Scott what to do, or make the decision for him, he just wanted to give an outside perspective and supportive voice.

Scott ultimately pursued the job and is now thriving at Michigan State.

Of course, Steve doesn’t take credit for Scott’s decision. His advice was just one of the many factors involved. But it was an important piece because Steve was a trusted friend and confidant.

I appreciated the story for a number of reasons. For starters, it was comforting to know that everyone—even the people we most admire—struggle with moments of uncertainty. More importantly, it made me feel comfortable enough to open up and ask Steve for advice.

I told him about the goals I was trying to achieve, how I hoped to achieve them and the uncertainties and concerns I had about the process. Although I had known him for less than 30 minutes, I knew I could trust him to give me encouraging yet honest advice about my situation.

And I was right. After listening to my story, Steve asked me questions about things I hadn’t considered and made observations I hadn’t noticed. Then he shared insights from his own career experience and the experience he’d had raising two sons.

By the end of the conversation, the uncertainty of my situation wasn’t quite so overwhelming. Steve helped me see the situation from an objective and practical perspective rather than the emotional and speculative perspective I’d had all weekend. I realized that I had become so wrapped up in emotions about my future I wasn’t able to think clearly—I needed someone to help me take a step back and see the situation from a higher level.

Scott sent me to Steve because he knew he could help me do that.

…

Cup 48 was an important reminder that there will always be moments of uncertainty in life. But more importantly, there will always be people that can help us through them—it’s just a matter of being brave enough to seek out the help and open up.

It was also a reminder that if you’ve got an opportunity to help someone else, you should take it.

Because nobody can do it all by themselves.

The Homestretch

Fri, 16 Sep 2011 12:24:00 -0400

It’s hard to believe that I’ve only got five Cups left of this crazy experiment. I’ll be posting Cup 48 by the end of the week, which means I’ve got four more until I’m done.

Like a mom watching her baby board the bus to kindergarten for the first time, I keep thinking—how did this project grow up so fast?

It’s incredible to think back to the previous 47 Cups: the friends made, lessons learned and adventures had. It’s been life changing and I’m sad to see it end. That’s why I’m determined to pack in as much friend-making, lesson learning and adventure having as possible in the final cups.

In order to facilitate this, I am jumping back on the road with my friend Rachel for a Northeast road trip. We’ll be hitting New York City, Washington D.C. and a host of other places along the way. We’ll be sharing adventures from the road here and we’d love to have you follow along—especially if you’ve got good travel recommendations or are living in any of the cities we’ll be visiting.

There might be a slight disruption in my posting schedule, but there will be plenty going on over at my other blog—thanks for understanding. And as always, thanks for reading. It means more to me than I can put down in writing.

megan

Cup 47

Sat, 03 Sep 2011 15:24:00 -0400

Person: Brittany Fox

Drink: Homebrewed decaf coffee

Date: September 1, 2011

Location: via Skype from East Lansing, MI

…

If you convince yourself something won’t work and never try—you might miss out on something incredible.

…

Brittany Fox has traveled to a lot of cool places.

However, in all of her travels, she never found a city she could envision herself moving to. She liked Michigan and that is where she wanted to stay.

Until she went to Thailand.

After high school, Brittany was interested in doing humanitarian work. She found a program that would allow her to spend her summer volunteering in several different countries, which is how she ended up in Thailand.

It was love at first sight.

…

Brittany was relaying this story to me via Skype. She was in her apartment in Bangkok preparing for a full day of work. I was at a kitchen table in Michigan relaxing before heading to bed. The Internet connection wasn’t ideal but it held up long enough to hear her story.

When Brittany arrived in Pattaya, Thailand she felt something she had never felt during her previous travels—a sense of connectedness. A thought from out of nowhere entered her head, “I could live here.”

But the thought didn’t linger long—she had work to do.

She was volunteering with YWAM Thailand, which is a center that provides help, healing and hope for women caught in Thailand’s large prostitution industry. According to their website, Pattaya is known as Thailand’s number one sex destination. It is home to 20,000 male, female and child prostitutes that attract over one million visitors each year.

Many of the women share the same heart-breaking story—they were single mothers facing the challenge of raising their children and taking care of their aging parents. As the financial pressures increased, they felt powerless; they felt there was no option other than prostitution.

YWAM works to help these young women by providing them with an education and opportunities to find a job outside of prostitution. Brittany’s role was to go into bars and clubs during the day to talk with the young girls about the organization and the opportunities available. It was a bold action on Brittany’s part and one that taught her something truly amazing.

Her preconceived notions about prostitution—the type of women involved, their morals, personalities, etc.—were dispelled completely. Instead of meeting disreputable women like she expected, she met smart, hardworking women trapped in a terrible situation because of financial troubles.

She listened with compassion as one after another told the story of how they came to prostitution. It seemed that each story involved an “end of the rope” moment; an unfortunate turn of events that left them convinced prostitution was the only option.

Those “end of the rope” moments stuck with Brittany. She couldn’t stop thinking about what would be possible if an organization could reach out to those women during those moments and prevent them from going down that dark road.

…

It was a thought that stayed with her as she returned to the States to study International Relations at Michigan State. When she got home, the first thing she did was buy a Thai language book—she knew that as soon as she graduated she would be back in Thailand.

And she was. With $300 dollars left in her bank account she boarded a plane for Bangkok. She figured that would be enough money to survive for two months while she searched for a job with a non-profit or non-governmental organization in the area.

…

For a while she actually played around with the idea of starting her own business, but it was always more of a daydream than an actual desire. A few years before, her brother bought her a tote bag crocheted with recycled plastic bags. She loved the uniqueness of the bag and often received compliments from people while wearing it.

Her brother was also doing humanitarian work in Thailand. He fell in love with it after volunteering in a refugee camp after the tsunami in 2004. He knew how much Brittany liked the bag and pointed out that it wouldn’t be hard to make one herself—in fact, it might just be a great business opportunity for her. Brittany liked the idea and had fun brainstorming about how she would start the company, but that’s as far as the idea went. Brittany didn’t believe in herself enough to take the next step, to turn the idea into action. She wasn’t crafty, she had never taken a business class—she didn’t have the skills to make it happen. Plus, she had school loans to pay so getting a job with a larger organization would be “the responsible thing to do.”
So she ditched the idea and jumped into a job search.

But then something happened. Her roommate Panida, a Thai woman she met at Michigan State, came home with devastating news. Her supervisor had come to her in tears—she was struggling to make ends meet at her current job and had decided to start prostituting.

She was at the end of her rope.

Brittany knew she had to do something. This was her chance to intervene before it was too late.

The idea of starting a company reemerged. She still wasn’t convinced it would work but she decided to try. She bought the needed materials, found instructions online and sewed, “the world’s ugliest little bag.” But it was a completed bag. And it was a start.

Panida joined Brittany in her efforts. They approached her supervisor about the possibility of working for their new company making bags.

She quickly said no.

Like Brittany, she didn’t believe in herself. She didn’t know how to make a bag and she was afraid to try.

Brittany and Panida didn’t give up. They told her they would leave her the supplies and instructions and encouraged her to give it a shot. When they returned a week later, the supervisor opened the door with a big smile on her face. She held up a completed bag with pride in her eyes—she had proved to herself she could do it. And although it was also “one of the world’s ugliest little bags,” it was a start.

Sometimes, that’s all you need.

With practice they began making beautiful bags that now sell in the United States, United Kingdom and online through Brittany’s company Thai Song. The company she thought would never work is about to celebrate its second anniversary. More importantly, they employ six women that now feel empowered, dignified and confident.

…

Brittany Fox has already changed many lives—at the ripe old age of 24. Imagine how many lives she will touch in the coming decades of her life. Perhaps that’s why she felt so connected to Thailand when she arrived—it needed help and somewhere deep inside, Brittany knew she could provide it.

Cup 47 taught me the value of testing our assumptions instead of just assuming an idea won’t work.

Because Brittany could have stuck to the belief that her idea wouldn’t work: she could have listened to the people that told her the idea was destined to fail.

But she didn’t.

And now six women in Thailand are facing a much brighter future.

Cup 46

Mon, 22 Aug 2011 13:28:00 -0400

Person: Bo Fishback

Drink: Regular coffee in a Kansas City coffee shop

Bo Fishback is the self-proclaimed luckiest man in the world.

By age 30, he had found his dream job. He worked as the president of Kauffman Labs for Enterprise Creation in Kansas City, Missouri where his main task was allocating $100 million dollars a year to various entrepreneurial projects. It was a job that was easy to love and one he saw himself in for another 20 years.

Then one Monday in February, he walked into work and announced his resignation—effective immediately.

The news came as a shock to Kauffman. It probably came as a shock to Bo too—when he left work on Friday he had every intention of returning the following Monday. But life intervened.

At the insistence of his good friend, Eric Koester, Bo went to Los Angeles where he competed in a 54-hour Startup Weekend Event where he pitched an idea that had been rolling around the back of his mind for a while. It was a last minute choice to pitch and the decision paid off—not only did Bo’s team win, they attracted the attention of investors (including Ashton Kutcher) and raised nearly a million dollars overnight.

…

He explained this as we sat sipping coffee at the coffee shop in Kansas City, which is a five minute walk from the headquarters of Zaarly—one of the fastest growing, most-talked about startups of the year. In just seven months, they’ve scaled their product, assembled a dynamic team and left a noticeable impact on cities nationwide.

According to CrunchBase, Zaarly is a location based, real-time buyer powered market. Buyers make an offer for an immediate need and sellers cash in on an infinite marketplace for items and services they never knew were for sale.

The format for a Zaarly is: I’d pay ____ for ____.

I’d pay $30 for someone to mow my lawn.
I’d pay $45 for a ticket to this weekend’s Tigers game.
I’d pay $600 for a treadmill in good condition.

The idea is to build a marketplace where people acquire goods and make money using technology and the communities around them. The young company has already generated over $3 million dollars in Zaarly transactions.

It could, in theory, change the way business is done—become the next $50 billion dollar company.

That is Bo’s vision and the reason he could walk away from the greatest job in the world without second thought. He didn’t want to watch someone with the same idea make it big while he sat on the sideline and watched.

Now he and his team are working around the clock to make it happen. And from the looks of it they are succeeding.

It helps that Bo (and his two co-founders) are no strangers to the entrepreneurial world. Bo has two successful startups under his belt: Orbis Biosciences, a drug delivery and particle fabrication company, and Lightspeed Genomics, a next-generation genome sequencing company (source: CrunchBase). In addition to these two companies, Bo has served as anadvisor, board member, and angel investor to many other ventures.

…

Bo always knew he would start a company. When he was four years old, his father—and role model—left his job as at a hospital to start his own company selling respiratory therapy supplies. As Bo grew so did the company. By the time he was 18, his father sold his company and retired comfortably. Watching his dad run a business instilled the entrepreneurial bug in both Bo and his brother who is also a successful entrepreneur.

However, at age 18, Bo didn’t expect he would be in the position he is in today. Bo grew up in a small Georgia town where he drove 50 miles to and from school. By the time senior year rolled around his top concern was finding a school outside of Georgia where he could play basketball (he’s 6’8”) and meet girls. He ended up at Southern Methodist University and while his basketball career was short-lived, he did meet his wife (and now mother of their newborn baby boy).

After earning a degree in Medical Biosystems, he went to work for a corporation that basically gave him a budget and said go start a new branch for our company. He met their expectations. By the time he left, the team he built had over 200 employees. He then started his own company that (in what he calls a complete stroke of luck) sold within eight months. He decided to pursue an MBA and headed to Harvard Business School where he once again rolled out a successful venture. That’s how he garnered the attention of Kauffman and landed a job helping other startups.

His motive for serial startups is simple, “I just like to build shit”.

And he gets lucky. “I’ve had so many experience where luck was on my side, I’ve reached a point where I just assume I’ll be lucky.”

Of course, the harder you work the luckier you get. And Bo works hard.

Although you wouldn’t know it if you met him—he’s easygoing with a propensity for fun. He’s also tall, charismatic, optimistic and a visionary.

That combination creates a rare ability to attract talented individuals and motivate them to accomplish a common goal. He’s so good his inbox is filled with hundreds of resumes applying for jobs that don’t even exist. One guy actually offered to pay to work for the company (it worked, he now works at the San Francisco office—and gets paid).
In all honestly, after Bo took time out of his busy schedule to sit down and have a genuine conversation with me I could have been convinced to relocate my life to KC and join the team.

I wouldn’t have been the first MSU kid to do it. Zaarly worked its magic on my three of my close friends (which is why I was visiting Kansas City in the first place). In March, my friend Eric met Bo through a project—Bo left a big impression on Eric and eventually offered him an internship at Kauffman. When Bo left Kauffman for Zaarly, it was easy to convince Eric to follow suit; he knew working with Bo would lead to something big.

When they company needed more interns it wasn’t hard for Eric to recruit his MSU classmates. Bo could offer them something that is hard to find: a chance to create something meaningful. If Zaarly works, it will change lives around the US and possibly the world.

It’s a big vision—and Bo thinks it’s going to work—but even if it doesn’t, it will have been an incredible ride; an exciting chapter of life they can look back on as a reminder they were willing to take a risk to create something great.

…

I took a lot away from Cup 46—but what I will remember most is Bo’s optimism and vision.

Everyone is capable of finding that once-in-a-lifetime idea or opportunity that captures their heart and changes their life (and the lives of others). That risky idea that somehow doesn’t seem risky at all. An idea they can’t get off their mind. An idea that creates meaning and purpose.

But sadly, not everyone knows they have this capability.

Bo says he’s lucky—but it takes more than luck to stumble into a dream job, twice. I asked him what made him different from those that don’t find meaning.

“I surrounded myself with good people”.

Coffee with Bo was fantastic from start to finish, but this part of the conversation really hit home. The night before, Eric and I were talking about how lucky we were to be pursuing exactly what we wanted to be pursuing when so many of our former classmates were finding themselves in lackluster jobs. When Eric found Zaarly he knew with 100 percent certainty it was the right choice for him. That is how I felt when I decided to go to Europe after graduation. We couldn’t explain the logic that led to our the decisions, but we both had a gut feeling that told us it was the right thing to do.

I told Eric I wished more people realized how much potential they truly have—realized they could be doing exactly what they love.

My conversation with Bo helped me see that we need good people in our lives to help us discover our potential.

I had to have coffee with two dozen people before I believed I was capable of spending two months in Europe post-graduation. Eric is more efficient. It took him one conversation with Bo—a man for whom he has great respect—to realize he could have a great impact on Zaarly if he relocated to Kansas City and joined the team.

In this crazy world of expectation and uncertainty it is way too easy to get caught in a maze of self-doubt and insecurity. That’s why it’s vital to find positive people that help us navigate our way through it.

Bo, who is incredibly talented, succeeded because he found people that helped him maximize those talents. That’s why he’s the luckiest man in the world. It’s also why he’s devoted to Zaarly. It’s a platform to inspire and create meaning for others—to pay it forward.
…

Cup 46 a testament that that a life filled with meaning, laughter, love and fun is possible for everyone. It takes a lot of work to make it happen, but it’s possible.
If you don’t believe that, surround yourself with people that do. Their contagious optimism and support will lead you to that dream job.

Then when you find it (and don’t settle until you do) reach out and help someone else. Whether it’s being a mentor to a young college student or a co-founder of a company that starts a movement.

Or better yet—both.

Cup 45

Mon, 08 Aug 2011 16:24:00 -0400

Person: Steve Wozniak

Drink: Water while at lunch in Palo Alto, CA

This story begins in October.

Around Cup 16, I was talking about 52 Cups with Todd, a friend at work when an idea hit him, “You should try to set up a meeting with Woz, the co-founder of Apple! I know he’d do it—in fact, I bet he’d even fly to Michigan.”

I figured I had nothing to lose so I explored ways to contact him. I searched his website, tried Facebook, asked a few friends. Nothing worked. My last resort was to search Steve Wozniak on anywho.com. I called the phone number only to reach Steve Wozniak the pro fishing reporter, not Steve Wozniak the computer genius.

So I decided that it just wasn’t meant to be and moved on.

Then March rolls around and one day I wake up to this email from a good friend at Michigan State:

FYI, Steve Wozniak will be the June commencement speaker. I bet we could get a coffee date set for you.

A strange feeling washed over me. Todd was right, Steve Wozniak was flying to Michigan.

And we had coffee.

Well, we kind of had coffee. I found a way to get invited to a reception he was speaking at and stood next to him while drinking a cup of coffee. He was fascinating to talk to and very approachable so I explained my project and invited him to coffee. He said he’d love to but would have to take a rain-check because he was headed to Detroit to watch a hockey game before his flight back to California. He gave me his business card and told me to email him sometime.

So I did. I sent him an email from Budapest to let him know I was planning a trip to San Francisco to visit friends in July and I’d love to meet up if he was around. A half dozen email exchanges and a couple flights later, I was riding my friend’s green beach cruiser bike down the sunny, tree-lined, streets of Palo Alto to meet Woz and his wife for lunch.

…

It was a fantastic lunch that culminated with a piece of wisdom that emerged when I asked him how he and his family had stay grounded amidst the fame and success:

Be true to yourself. Find out who you are and what you value—then don’t let anything deter you.

For as long as Woz can remember he wanted to design computers. In high school, in college, in his first year working—Woz was designing computers during every spare moment he had. During his first year at Hewlett Packard, he designed the revolutionary Apple I and Apple II computer during his nights and weekends away from work.

Woz knew he was born to build computers. Not because he wanted to make a million dollars or start a revolutionary new company, but because nothing brought him greater joy than solving the complex computer problems. After he designed the Apple I he actually gave away the designs to anyone that wanted them.

When he designed the Apple II he was planning on doing the same thing until Steve Jobs approached him about starting a company to commercial the computer. At first Woz said no. He didn’t want to be a business man, he wanted to be a electronic engineer. At the time, Hewlett Packard was the most prestigious place for engineers so Woz saw no reason to leave.

But Jobs was insistent. He eventually won over Woz and they went on to found a company that revolutionized home computers and changed the future of technology forever.

Of course, it was much more complicated than that—but the bottom line is that Woz helped create a company that most entrepreneurs can only dream about.

Then he walked away from it.

One reason was a near-fatal plane crash that left him with retrograde amnesia. He had no recollection of the crash and also struggled with day to day short term memory (although his memory was eventually restored). The other reason was that he wanted to finish the college degree he abandoned when he went to start Apple.

Then he became a teacher. To fifth grade kids.

Could you imagine going to a Parent/Teacher conference with the genius behind the Apple computers? You probably can’t considering it’s not typical for successful innovators to leave great tech companies and head to the classroom. But Woz isn’t typical.

He knows himself well enough to trust his decisions even when they seems crazy to the outside world.

That’s what impressed me about Woz.

More than his fame, his mathematical genius and the fact that he co-founded one of my favorite brands—it was his self-awareness (and self-assurance) that impressed me.

To know exactly the who you are—and accept who you are—is rare quality.

Sitting down with Woz and hearing him talk so candidly, and in such a genuine and humble manor, was refreshing.

The good news for us is that it’s not a quality he was born with—and as his wife pointed out, not a quality I should expect to have at age 23. It’s a gradual progression that develops over time if you’re willing to work on it.

That was the most important take away from Cup 45: people aren’t born talented.

They are born with skill and the talent emerges with the practice and honing of those skills.

It’s undeniable that Woz was born with an incredible aptitude for computers. But it wasn’t the natural born talent that led to the Apple I and Apple II—it was was the hours and hours (and hours) of practice that gave him the ability to revolutionize the computer world.

If he hadn’t been devoted to the craft his skill would have been wasted.

Regardless of what your skills are and where you start—you can always get better. The people that are the leaders in the field weren’t born at the top, they worked their way to get there. I’m not saying natural aptitude isn’t important, it is, just probably not as much as you think.

Woz is a fantastic public speaker. His keynote at Michigan State’s graduation was a great blend of information, inspirational and entertainment. That’s why he is invited to speak at events around the world—and why you would assume Woz was born with a natural aptitude for public speaking.

That couldn’t be further from the truth. Growing up, Woz was so shy he wouldn’t raise his hand in class or talk to the other kids in his computer club. He feared public speaking. But as the co-founder of Apple people wanted to hear him speak so he had to face his fear of public speaking. With devotion and practice he developed a talent he never knew he had.

I understand this is a difficult idea to believe. It’s much easier to convince yourself you weren’t born with the right amount of talent than accept that success is attainable—it just requires a LOT of hard work and dedication. I know this, because I’ve done it many times.

But Woz showed me how wrong I was in that assumption—he ruined my excuse. Now I can’t take the easy way out and claim I’m not talented enough. I have to put in the hard work and develop the talent.

I have a feeling the lesson will pay off in the long run.

Because I could have easily convinced myself that getting a meeting with Woz was impossible.

But I didn’t.

And look what happened.
.

Cup 44

Wed, 27 Jul 2011 19:08:00 -0400

Person: Tony Stone

Drink: Office brewed coffee in Edinburgh, Scotland

Cup 44: Tony Stone

Don’t be afraid to change directions.

That was my mentality going into my Europe adventure and the reason I ended up in Scotland.

My flight back to the States was out of London so I decided that’s where I would spend the last four days of my trip. However, when a friend from MSU emailed me to say she was going to be in Scotland for the TED Global conference I decided to revise my plan. I’d spend two days in Edinburgh before taking the short train ride to London for my last two days.

…

I was weary from travel when I rolled into Scotland at 10:30 pm but the beauty of the castle-lined landscape resting under a crescent moon restored my energy (finally understanding the local language also helped). After pausing to take a few photos and take in the moment, I headed toward the hostel I’d booked, making a quick stop inside a convenience store along the way for late-night snack.

It was the bold green packaging on the Stoats Porridge Oat Bar that caught my attention.

After looking at the package, I discovered it was produced locally in Edinburgh. Because I’d never knowingly tried porridge, I figured it was my responsibility as an adventurous traveler to try the local food.

It was a smart choice—I loved the bar and later ran a Google search to see if the bars were available in the States. The search naturally led me to the Stoats website where I read about the offbeat origins of the company. It was a fascinating story (filled with delightful British vernacular) so the next morning I decided to email the company to see if I could grab coffee with co-founder Tony Stone.

Growing up I preferred business magazines like Inc. and Fast Company over Cosmo and Vogue (which may explain why I never know if my shoes go with my outfit, but I digress) so I was excited when Tony responded within in the hour and we set up a meeting for later that afternoon.

…

When I arrived at the Stoats headquarters in the outskirts of the city I wasn’t sure I was in the right spot. But then I noticed the small white Stoats sign on a door nestled between a handful of larger manufacturing shops. I cautiously opened turned the handle and walked inside to find a simple setting—large bags of raw oats, stacks of cardboard boxes, various flyers on the walls. Basically what you would expect from a manufacturing plant if they spent any time imagining what a manufacturing plant might look like.

Tony heard me enter and yelled hello from inside his office down the hallway before coming out to meet me. He was tall, lanky, and personable with his relaxed disposition and friendly Scottish accent. We walked into the office he shared with two other employees. Tony apologized for the disorder—piles of and promotional material and files lined his desk, random boxes of product samples strewn about—and lack of quality coffee. I told him I didn’t mind, after seven weeks on the road, you’re used to the disorder.

…

My first question was simple: what exactly is porridge?

My limited knowledge of porridge it that it’s eaten by bears and stolen by blondes. As it turns out, porridge is just oatmeal by another name. With that mystery solved I was ready for trickier questions, but first Tony wanted to know more about my project. I understood where he was coming from, it’s not often you run into a young college grad meandering through Europe sending unsolicited emails to food manufacturers.

So I explained my story and then he jumped into his, which—much like mine—had some unexpected revisions.

Tony had always entertained the idea of starting his own company but took a job with a big company after graduating with a business degree. It was a good job, but he realized he missed Edinburgh and wanted to be closer to his family—it seemed like the right time to jump into the entrepreneurial world, but he wasn’t sure in what capacity.

That changed the day he and his friend Bob went to a music festival. I like how their website explains it:

Stoats began with an idea in 2004 to serve fresh porridge at music festivals. We listened to our mates moan and groan about what they had to eat to survive at music festivals. We knew that porridge would make a healthy, filling and tasty eating option, so we decided porridge was the future (and quite a cool way to spend the summer). Bob and Tony got a shiny wee mobile porridge bar and started selling freshly made porridge right across the UK, and festival audiences loved it (and still do - look for the biggest queue at breakfast and you’ve found Stoats Porridge).

In 2004, porridge was getting a lot of attention in the press—it’s one Scotland’s best exports and was an especially trendy food at the time. Tony and Bob saw an opportunity and decided to capitalize on it.

Then they decided to take it one more step—they would set up a small store where they’d sell porridge year round. But life intervened. When they approached the bank for a loan they weren’t able to get as much as they requested (Tony later explained it’s difficult for entrepreneurs to get support in Britain).

But it didn’t stop them, they just reevaluated the plan and decided to stick with selling bowls of fresh porridge to festival goers—advertising their product with a big banner alongside the truck that read:

STOATS PORRIDGE BAR

Their decision worked, business was booming—and, although they didn’t see it, about to change directions again.

Many of their customers were misunderstanding what PORRIDGE BAR meant. While the banner implied the type of bar synonymous with buffet, table, counter, etc., many concert goers thought they Stoats sold bars of porridge—like granola bars. The thought had never occurred to Tony and Bob but they figured if that’s what their customers wanted that’s what they should sell.

After a little experimenting in the kitchen the original Stoats Porridge Bar was born and became an instant hit. Now, in addition to their mobile trucks, Stoats sells eight flavors of oat bars and a half dozen other oat products both online and in stores across Scotland (and very soon some parts of the US).

And hearing Tony’s firsthand account of the company’s growth it became clear that it was their ability to be flexible and willingness to try new things that allowed them to develop a successful business that continues to grow. It’s a lot like my Europe trip—I had a plan, but it wasn’t so concrete I couldn’t revise when a better opportunity arose.

That’s not easy to do.

Changing direction can be scary. Especially if you’ve taken a lot of time devising the plan.

But the thing is—you can’t predict life. If you think you have total control over your plan, you’re setting yourself up for failure because something unexpected will inevitable occur.

However, if you accept that life will throw you curve balls (both good and bad) the unexpected moments can turn into the greatest opportunities. Had Tony and Bob been dead set on sticking to the plan, the lack of funding from the bank could have completely derailed their plans. Or they could have ignored their customers and neglected the opportunity to take their business in a new, and better, direction.

When I asked Tony what the greatest lessons he’s learned in the past five years was he told me this:

Start small.

He said oftentimes the idea they are most excited about ends up going nowhere while the sub part idea becomes an unexpected hit. That’s why when they roll out something new they try it in a small batch and, if it works, they roll it out to the whole market.

It makes sense. They know they won’t get it right the first time, every time. Starting small allows them to stay agile and flexible in case the plan doesn’t work or a better opportunity emerges. And if the plan fails completely the company only suffers a small loss and can recover quickly. Starting small allows them to take smart risks.

Take enough small risks and you’ll start to see big change.

It’s a smart strategy; much better than devising a grand scheme and then aborting it at the first sign it won’t work out. I’ve unfortunately seen that happen a lot.

Tony and Bob could have set out to develop an international retailing business. But they didn’t. They had a small idea that worked so they took another small risk, then another, then another. Now they’ve got an international retailing business.

…

I was thinking about that while walking home from the Stoats Headquarters.

A year ago I didn’t plan to be drinking coffee in Europe. I just wanted to meet people in the city where I lived so I took a risk and invited a stranger to coffee. It worked, so I kept at it until one thing led to another and I ended up in Scotland surrounded by beautiful scenery and wonderful people—drinking coffee with strangers.

And that’s what I’ll take away from Cup 44. While it is important to plan ahead, success does not require some big, elaborate, scheme.

It requires the courage to take that first step.

And then another.

And then another.

If you can do that, life will take you to incredible—and deliciously unexpected—places.