52 Cups of Coffee: Inspiring and insightful stories for navigating life’s uncertainties
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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 had 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 was a bit of luck, mixed with creativity, passion and a lot of hard work. Most importantly, he found meaning in the work. Discovery Channel uses the power of entertainment to shine light on 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 who helped people see the world from a new perspective and generate positive environmental change.
Clark explained that Discovery succeeded because two things held true for people: they are naturally curious, and 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 Mythbusters had gotten 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, he just 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, for him, entertainment was the solution. It reminded me of something author 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 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 wouldn’t make you the president of a major company—Clark had worked hard to make Discovery Channel something fantastic. He has led his life with integrity, and the result has been an incredible career that has changed lives as well as the planet.
The most valuable lesson I took from Cup 50 is 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 toward a goal you’re shooting for, 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.
Elaine Rosenblatt
Starbucks in Chicago, Illinois
Grande Americano
When life changes unexpectedly, grieve, grow, and move forward.
I’ll be honest; Cup 51 was hard to write.
There are a lot of explanations for why, but I think the most-relevant one is that I didn’t want the project to end—because I didn’t know what came next. The irony was that this Cup is about learning to let go and moving on to something better.
* * *
I met with Elaine Rosenblatt on a windy and gloomy Wednesday. I took the train to the outskirts of Chicago and arrived at the Starbucks first. When Elaine walked in, I recognized her immediately. She looked just like her son Brett, the stranger who had 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 lived outside of Chicago, and when I was invited to attend a fundraiser in Chicago, I decided to reach out to her to see if she could meet while I was in town. I thought it was fitting that she could help me end a project that her son had helped me start. I had also 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 you end up where you are today?” I didn’t know anything about Elaine other than that she was a psychotherapist and had three sons.
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 hadn’t considered college or a career. She’d fallen in love, gotten married, and had a son in her early twenties. She had achieved her goal.
Of course, that was not where the story ends. It’s where it began.
Elaine’s marriage began to crumble, and before she knew it, she found herself a single mom with a child to support. Desperate for work, she took the first job she could find: a job at a clinic for women, 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 hadn’t followed the traditional educational route, she was passionate and constantly worked to stay educated about her field while preparing for the next step.
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 a psychotherapist.
Elaine was a strong, independent, complex and compassionate woman. Having coffee with her reminded me so much of the first conversation I ever 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 depended 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 inevitable parts of life. While that may seem like a somber topic, the conversation was very encouraging.
It wasn’t until Elaine tested her strength 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 sadness in her life 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 is something we probably all would do. We become attached to visions of the future—expected outcomes over which we have little control—until the illusion feels like reality.
Then something happens—the relationship falls apart, the job isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be, the economy goes south—and the illusion (along with the feeling of security) shatters.
It is a story that happens to everyone at some point, and one Elaine frequently hears in her work. The advice she gives comes down to three steps: grieve, believe, and wait out the discomfort.
When a major life change happens, it is all right (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 is h
ope for the future. If you can’t find it in yourself, find someone who can help you find it. Like Brett told me a week earlier when I’d called him during 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 find the hope, accept that there is going to be a period of discomfort. Elaine went back to the tunnel metaphor. You know there is a light at the end, but it is going to be dark and uncertain for a while. It is an uncomfortable place to be, but if you keep pushing forward, you can make it to the end, and be stronger as a result.
* * *
While Elaine’s advice centered on hardship, it was also a solution for any change. It was a process for saying goodbye to what had been, and looking forward to what will be.
52 Cups had been a big part of my life for the last year. Now I had to prepare for a post-52 Cups life. Leaving the security of this project for the unknown of the next one was a little uncomfortable. Coffee with Elaine reminded me that 52 Cups had prepared me for whatever’s next. While closing this chapter of my life would be difficult, I had learned to embrace change and use my experiences to make my next chapters even better.
Cup 52
Boogaloos in San Francisco, California
Small brewed coffee
Figure out what you love, then find the courage to do it, and do it well.
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, and enjoying a cup of coffee that the waitress will refill at least three times before I leave.
All through my 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 titles and salaries. That’s what you’re supposed to do with an expensive college degree, right?
And, if I hadn’t decided to do this crazy experiment in caffeine and conversation, it’s probably what I would be doing; I called 52 Cups of Coffee an experiment, as I knew meeting 52 new people would inevitably 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 spent traveling to 15 different countries where each day I woke up excited about the uncertainty of where that day would lead.
During my senior year, the uncertainty of my future after graduation created a crippling fear. My mindset was 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 in place (and the perfect job), I would be setting myself up for irreconcilable failure.
Where that thought came from, I don’t know, but I know it was a real fear. I also know I am incredibly grateful for those who had coffee with me and helped me understand the irrationality in my thinking.
It started during the first ten Cups when I realized a very noticeable trend: nobody’s life had gone according to plan. Life throws a lot of curveballs. Sometimes they’re good ones: unexpectedly falling in love, discovering a passion, stumbling into an incredible career opportunity. And sometimes they test your strength: losing a loved one, experiencing a breakup, going through a layoff or unexpected illness.
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 whatever life throws your way. I only found faith because I had these conversations with people from various backgrounds; each reaffirming that life always works out if you've got the right approach.
The second reason is that believing in yourself is only half the battle. The second half is execution. If you are open to go where life takes you, you can end up in incredible places. But you can’t just sit back and expect a great life, you have to go out and make one.
The magic of sitting down with strangers—putting yourself in a vulnerable position and taking time to genuinely listen to their stories—is that you can put a story behind the advice. The advice becomes real, and it becomes personal. I have a catalog of anecdotes I now carry with me.
On days filled with obstacles, I think about Cup 17, 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 Cup 36, Tom Izzo, a graduate assistant for the MSU basketball team making a $4,000 salary at age 30, dreaming about one day becoming head coach.
When I think about what I want in a career, I think about Cup 21, Torya Blanchard, and what she calls her “Fight Club moment”—the instant 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 failure starts to sink in, I hear Cup 38, Seth Godin, saying, “You’re not failing enough. I failed countless times before I was 30—and that’s what led to my success.”
The words of Cup 13, Dave Isbell, echo the importance of staying humble, while Cup 5, Dave Murray, reminds 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 Cup 22, Abby Ward, 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 Cup 25, Betsy Miner-Swartz, losing both of her parents to cancer in a short 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 was the last time I told my loved ones how important they are to me?
This is just the tip of the iceberg. Every Cup has 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 obsessed with living up to other people’s expectations, with becoming the person others wanted me to be. Over the course of this project, I realized this is no way to live life. I have to look inside and figure out who I am, then decide where I want to fit in the rest of 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 would visit various cities to connect with young alumni—a great position for a traveler with a love for good conversation.
And what will happen once that job is over?
I don’t know.
But that’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.
When I set out to meet 52 new people, I didn’t realize that the most important person I would meet was the person I became.
Dedicated to my parents,
for trusting me to talk to strangers.
Acknowledgments
This book project has been a group effort from the start. It would not exist without the 52 wonderful people that graciously shared their story with me, and allowed me to share it with others. Thank you for your time, your insights and, in many cases, your friendships; they have had a lasting effect on me.
52 Cups of Coffee project had a strong start thanks to Brett Kopf, who invited me to coffee and became a great friend (we both owe Kelley Bishop a big thank you for putting us in touch); Jeff Grabill, who helped me find my voice; and Scott Westerman, who believed in the project from day one—he also made the best introductions.
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You're holding this book because of the incredible help of Kevin Liu for organizing the pages and keeping me on track and Rachel Balanon for the cover. Andrew Vilcsak, Gail Lasham, and my parents Jane and Gregg Gebhart. I don't think my dad knew what he was getting into when he volunteered to be my editor—but I'm sure grateful he did.
I was lucky to have girlfriends like Jennifer Yee, Jeannine Seidl, Rachel Balanon, Hillary Welton, Jessica Colombo, and Kelly Steffen during the adventure. Thank you for being editors, road trip companions, confidants, generous hosts during my nomadic year, and so much more.
I uncovered many of these wonderful stories thanks to the help of friends that generously made introductions for me or provided support along the way. Thank you for your help Andrew and Sandy Gebhart, Peg Ostlund, Eric Jorgensen, Jake Lestan, Henry Balanon, Avish Bhama, John Hill, Todd Ross, Bill Ward, Payal Ravani, Spencer Nordwick, Richard Ward, Emily Winter, Robin Miner-Swartz, Amanda VanderMeulen, Kelly Bennett, Christine Garland, Jim Cotter, Piotr Pasik, Kim Gebhart, Vivian Leung, and Abigail Henson.
This is a non-exhaustive list. There are countless family members, friends and readers that liked, shared, and commented on the original blog posts. Those positive words of encouragement were invaluable and kept me motivated to keep writing.
Thank you.
About the Author
Megan Gebhart is a storyteller, speaker, and writer. Originally from Wyoming, Megan attended Michigan State University, where she immersed herself in a community of daring entrepreneurs and began entrepreneurial ventures of her own.
In 2010 Megan created 52 Cups of Coffee, a website dedicated to the power of connection. What started as an experiment to have coffee with a stranger every week for a year turned into a global exploration filled with serendipity and stories that teach us that finding ourselves is a journey that can last a lifetime.