52 Cups of Coffee: Inspiring and insightful stories for navigating life’s uncertainties

by Megan Gebhart

  But as I sat in his office, all of his prominence melted away. Tom is just a genuine guy from a small Michigan town, happy to take an hour out of his day to talk with a fellow Spartan.

  * * *

  After the numerous conversations I’d had during the previous nine months, I noticed a distinct trend: life rarely goes according to plan. No one I’d talked to was doing what they expected they’d be doing ten years before. I’d also observed that, with the right approach, life would take you to unexpected and incredible places.

  It is a fascinating concept: your life will inevitably go places you can’t begin to imagine. The closer I got to graduation, the more that thought was on my mind. So, out of curiosity, I posed the question to Tom: When you were two weeks away from graduating, where did you think life would take you?

  As I had walked past the National Championship trophies in the lobby, through the hallway lined with photos of NBA greats like Magic Johnson and Steve Smith, I couldn’t help but assume Tom hadn’t foreseen this would be the culmination of his career path.

  I was right. He earned an education degree and had always thought he would be teaching somewhere within the K12 system. When he graduated from Northern Michigan University, jumping into a classroom to teach didn’t feel right, so he opted for grad school instead. He had played on the basketball team during his undergrad years, and when he started school again, he decided to become the basketball team’s Graduate Assistant. With his love for basketball and strong competitive spirit, it was no surprise that Tom decided to be a teacher on the court instead of in the classroom.

  I asked him at what point he realized he wasn’t going to be a teacher and discovered that he might have a shot at coaching Division I basketball.

  Tom told me he and his college roommate (and best friend since age 9), Steve Mariucci, had spent time kicking around fantasies about successful coaching careers—creating aspirations they knew were unrealistic, but worth dreaming about anyway. As he said to me, “I’m sure you’ve spent time thinking about what it’d be like to be a millionaire.” In reality, he figured the likely outcome would be possibly getting a coaching gig at some Division II school. Tom had clearly exceeded that goal. (Steve Mariucci has too: he went on to coach for the San Francisco 49ers and Detroit Lions. Both coaches attribute their successes to the support and guidance they received from the other.)

  While Tom wasn’t downplaying his success as he told the story in retrospect, it seemed like the whole thing had been easy: Reaching an ambitious dream is hard enough, exceeding one is almost unthinkable. So I asked him what made the difference between coaching Division II and Division I. What separated good from great?

  Tom didn’t ponder the question; he knew the answer immediately: Sacrifice.

  At age 29, Tom was working as a graduate assistant at Michigan State, making $4,000 a year, often working 18-hour days, with no girlfriend—because “what woman dates a man who makes $4,000 a year?” While his friends were working in stable jobs, establishing their careers and settling down with wives and kids, Tom was fielding an increasing number of calls from his mother inquiring when he was going to wise up and “get a real job.”

  It hadn’t been an easy lifestyle, but he knew that it was what it would take to reach the next level. He said he had reached an incredible level of success because he’d been able to persist in moments where most people quit. His path involved great sacrifice. While Tom was proud of the program he had built and grateful for the opportunities he’s had, his life had not been without regret. He juggles the demands of a stressful career with his role as a husband and father; he also looks back and knows there are many things he could have done differently. I appreciated Tom’s honesty—he wanted me to recognize there were pros and cons to every career path.

  Stress and pressure were the price Tom paid for a chance to cut down the net after earning a National Title, to dress up as a Spartan in front of 16,000 adoring fans, to watch young freshman players become confident graduates, and to have a lasting impression on a community and a university.

  * * *

  We had been talking for an hour when Tom’s phone rang. He pretended he didn’t hear it. When his secretary buzzed him to say he had someone waiting to talk, he said he’d be a second and then continued telling me stories—as if he had all the time in the world.

  When we finally wrapped up our conversation, he said, “Well, I hope there was something helpful in that,” and I assured him there was. Talking with Tom brought me an incredible sense of relief.

  The truth is, for the past year, I’d had a quiet, yet relentless voice in my head creating an urgency to succeed. I am grateful for my internal drive, bit it had become a problem, a fear that if I don’t “succeed” within a year or two of graduation, I will miss my window of opportunity and, more importantly, let a lot of people down.

  I explained this to Tom, and he made it very clear my assumption was wrong. Success does not have a standard protocol or predetermined timeline. Some people fast track to success, but others take an indirect route. He told me not to worry about the expectations of others; what I expect from myself is a heck of a lot more important than what others expect from me.

  Near the end of the meeting, Tom looked at me and said, “Decide what you value, so you know what you’re willing to pay to get it. Then pursue that goal with discipline and a strong work ethic—but not to the point of obsession.”

  Because when the time was right, the hard work would pay off. Although, before I did that, I needed to decide what I was willing to sacrifice.

  Peggy Brannan

  Motor City Brewing Works in Detroit, Michigan

  Small French-pressed coffee

  Be a part of something bigger than yourself; make a difference.

  It was a sunny day when I visited the Green Garage in Detroit, and the hour-long drive was just what I had needed to clear my head from a stressful few weeks of school. When I arrived at the address, I found an old building clearly under construction, which I had to circle a few times to make sure it was the right spot.

  I entered the building, carefully stepping into the large front room filled with construction equipment, and made my way around the corner where I found a few dozen people clustered around two large tables, positioned between various piles of building materials. The tables were covered with sack lunches brought from home, with baked goods for sharing sitting in the middle. I found Peggy Brennan and received a warm welcome before I was ushered to an open spot at the table and introduced to the crew.

  A friend had suggested I meet with Peggy for coffee, but the simple meeting turned into an afternoon adventure. Together, Peggy and her husband Tom ran the Green Garage in Detroit, which was a venture that was not easily labeled. In 2008, Peggy and Tom bought the 90-year-old building, which in its glory days had been a showroom for Model T automobiles before becoming one of Detroit’s numerous boarded-up buildings. The vision for the purchase was to restore the building (which was listed in the National Historic Registry) to its original condition and turn it into a resource center and co-working space for entrepreneurs starting environmentally sustainable businesses.

  It began as an idea based on the triple-bottom-line business model, where the focus was not just profits, but also the environment and the community. The project had been the result of the efforts of 200 individuals working together to make a difference in Detroit’s Midtown neighborhood.

  Because it was a group effort, each Friday the Garage hosted a community lunch where anyone interested in the project could come and learn about how the project was progressing. Peggy suggested I join. That’s how I ended up having lunch with people from ages four (kids of one of the main workers) to 74 (an older couple who had been longtime friends and supporters of both Peggy and the project). It certainly felt like a community and the laughter and lightheartedness of the lunch made me feel at home; there was an overwhelming sense of purpose and excitement about the renovation project, which had required much pro
blem-solving and elbow grease.

  When the meeting ended, Peggy took me on a tour of the building, and I was blown away by everything I saw. It was a net-zero renovation, which meant the project was trying to be as efficient as possible. Just about everything I saw was recycled, reused, or repurposed in one way or another.

  * * *

  After the tour, we headed across the street to Motor City Brewing Works, a restaurant with a vibrant young atmosphere that counteracted the doom-and-gloom picture the news paints for Detroit. We ordered a large French-press of coffee to share as I learned more about Peggy.

  Not long after we started talking, Peggy’s sister and two nieces joined us and our conversation drifted to Detroit’s history. They were realistic about the problems facing the city, but were adamant that the city was filled with opportunity for those willing to get their hands dirty—people willing to start projects like the Green Garage.

  They were so excited to be a part of the rebuilding efforts that I was surprised to find out their project had happened almost by accident.

  After their three kids had grown, Peggy had started working on a Master’s degree in Library Science while Tom worked as a consultant for Accenture. After 20 years in the business, Tom needed a change of pace and decided to retire—but he wanted a project to occupy his free time.

  Some of their friends had developed an interest in sustainability, often testing new ways to save energy, lower costs, and reduce the negative impact on the environment in their homes. Peggy and Tom found themselves trying different things around the house and then getting together with their group of friends to swap stories. They were enjoying themselves in the process, and before long the group was holding weekly meetings. They hadn’t planned for something big to emerge from the group, but the seed of an idea had been planted and, over the course of seven years, grew into the concept for the Green Garage.

  Peggy and Tom started a real estate search that led them to the old historic building in Midtown, and they decided to buy it and turn their idea into a reality. Eighteen months later, they were ready to officially open the doors after completing the arduous, yet wonderful, renovation project.

  I loved the story because it paralleled my life and hit home. Two years before, my friend Brett and I had started getting together for a beer every Friday to talk about ideas and collaborate on projects. We hadn’t expected anything big to come out of the meetings, but we started inviting others until our group of three had turned to six, then twelve, and eventually a few dozen people contributing to an exciting entrepreneurial movement on campus.

  What our group and the Green Garage shared was a sense of authenticity. People only joined if they were passionate enough to get their hands dirty, and it created a magical quality for the group. Everyone was excited to be a part of something greater than themselves.

  It wasn’t until I had crowded around a table of volunteers, happily spending their lunch break in an unfinished building in the company of like-minded individuals, that I realized how much belief in a vision could create meaning.

  * * *

  Whether we are conscious of it or not, we are all chasing meaning. We’re all looking for proof that the ups and downs of life—the challenges, setbacks, and heartbreak—are worth something. We want to look back and know that our lives mattered, that we made a difference.

  At times, the magnitude of changing the world can be daunting—to the point where there seems to be no sense in trying. The Green Garage and the efforts of all involved disprove that. Big change starts small. It takes one person with an idea and enough passion to attract others to join the cause. With time and continuous commitment, momentum builds, and positive change happens.

  The Green Garage is one of many growing initiatives in Detroit, composed of passionate individuals pushing positive ideas forward.

  But Cup 37 isn’t just a story about Detroit.

  It is a story about finding a community of people who fit your passion and aptitude, and allow you to contribute to something greater. It is a story about finding meaning, about making a difference.

  It is a story for everyone.

  Seth Godin

  Pain Quotidien in New York, New York

  Small house coffee

  Fail more often.

  There is a passage in Seth Godin’s best-selling book, Poke the Box, which goes like this: “Take action. Move forward. The world doesn’t have room for standing still anymore. You have to innovate. Take initiative.”

  Take initiative.

  Interestingly enough, that was how I ended up sitting across from Seth in a delightful French-style bakery in Manhattan, enjoying a fresh croissant with a dollop of organic chocolate spread, which Seth plopped on my plate and insisted I try because, “it puts Nutella to shame!”

  I can replay the moment in my head like a movie: the atmosphere, the colors of the restaurant, the sound of the rain outside—and it’s one I wouldn’t soon forget. How could I forget the day I sat down with my hero (and 13-time New York Times best-selling author), for whom I had ridiculous respect and admiration?

  * * *

  The story starts five weeks before I met Seth. I was in Chicago, waiting for my connecting flight to Detroit after going to a wedding in Wyoming. Over the intercom, they announced the flight was oversold, and they were looking for volunteers to take a later flight. I raised my hand. Rerouting through Nashville and arriving in Detroit four hours behind schedule seemed like a small sacrifice to make in exchange for a $440 travel voucher to anywhere Southwest flew.

  The real difficulty was deciding where to travel with my newly acquired funds. A mutual friend knew I was a big fan of Seth’s work and said if I could get to New York City, he might be able to set up a meeting between the two of us. That was all I needed to hear. I sent some emails, booked a flight, and a few weeks later found myself sitting in front of Seth, which proved that his manifesto for taking initiative works.

  I was excited to learn about the path that had led Seth to where he was today; however, our conversation took a different route. This detour shouldn’t have surprised me. Seth was well-known for his unconventional thinking, so it made sense that our conversation would be unconventional as well. He wasn’t interested in outlining his path to prominence—his recipe for becoming a successful entrepreneur, CEO, author, and game-changer.

  The reason was that he, like every other success story, had a unique set of circumstances and skills with which to work. A set that neither I, nor anyone else, could replicate. I also had my own unique set of skills and circumstances. Thus, a more relevant use of our time would be talking about the mindset he had developed during the process. He wanted to help me identify places where his insight might be beneficial as I progressed in my career. I was moved—and grateful—for his genuine interest in helping me succeed.

  The ironic part was that much of our conversation was about failure.

  Seth told me he had failed a lot before he hit 30 and pointed out that I’d be well served if I got a few failures under my belt as well. He wasn’t suggesting I set out to fail. He was suggesting that the best ideas and opportunities are the ones off the beaten path. Finding them requires taking calculated risks and being willing to push boundaries. Failure under the belt showed that you were striving for something.

  His advice resonated with me because it was something the previous 37 conversations had helped me realize. When I started the 52 Cups project in July of 2010, I was a soon-to-be college senior, feeling the pressure of finding the perfect job by the time I graduated from college. I figured my first job was the first step of the rest of my life, and if I screwed up, I would let a lot of people down, and ultimately ruin my future. (It feels silly to write that now, but at the time, I believed it.)

  Luckily, all these coffee conversations have shown me life isn’t black and white; it is a changing shade of grey and a constant challenge to make the most of the opportunities it presents. Figuring life out requires failing a few times. And, with t
he right mindset and degree of perseverance, failure becomes an opportunity for growth instead of a scary dead end.

  I had gone from fearing failure to accepting that I would fail at some point. Seth took the idea one step further. Not only did he tell me it was all right to fail, he encouraged it. He knows from his experiences that mistakes often breed incredible success. When you aren’t afraid to fail, you open the doors to possibilities.

  Failure often occurs where curiosity and courage collide. Something sparks your interest, and you find courage to explore a new idea. Then, it’s tough to get something perfectly right on the first try, it doesn’t succeed, or at least not the way you expected. You fall.

  Then you pick yourself up and move forward, having learned something and grown in the process. You get to approach the same problem from a more-informed perspective. It’s like learning to ride a bike. No one expects you to do it right on your very first try. You have to fall a couple of times in order to succeed. In fact, the faster you fall, the faster you learn—push a boundary, fail, learn, try a new route, and repeat.

  Somewhere along the line, probably in grade school, failure became a bad thing, something to avoid at all cost. But, as Seth said, testing ideas and pushing boundaries—going through a hundred ideas that don’t work—is the best way to find the one (remarkable) idea that does.

  Unfortunately, knowing this doesn’t make failure any easier. Seth told me, even after years of writing best sellers and running successful companies, he still feels the fear of failure. However, he has gotten better at recognizing when the fear is sneaking up on him, which helps him beat it.

  Pushing boundaries is hard for everyone.

  * * *

  Looking back on the meeting, the advice Seth gave me sounded like a lot of work: fighting resistance, getting rejected, and learning from failure. But when I left our meeting, I was filled with incredible energy. Seth had given me a wonderful gift. He gave me permission to get into trouble, make some mistakes, and get my hands dirty. He knew that curiosity and courage would lead to something great.