Here's An Idea Coffee (and Tea) Shop Patrons: Let's Share

Like many entrepreneurs and knowledge workers, I spend a lot of time working in coffee shops and cafes. I have an office, but I like getting out to change my perspective and be in the energy of other people working. Sometimes I'm between meetings and have enough time to get some things done, but not enough to go home and accomplish much. Coffee shops and cafes are great. In exchange for my buying drinks (tea for me, please) and food, the coffee shops and cafes provide me with free wireless and a place to plug in my laptop as well as a place to hold casual meetings. It's a nice relationship.

It seems that as more people have been laid off or have chosen to freelance, the coffee shops and cafes have become increasingly inhabited by more and more people. When I say inhabited, I mean inhabited. The issue is that some people just camp out all day without regard to the other humans moving in and out of the space. Add to that our American need to "own" a table and protect our space and you get a shop filled with lots of empty seats, but no where to sit.

Take right now, for instance. I'm sitting at a 4 top table in Henry's on East in Indianapolis. (Check it out. Great place with great people.) And I have to say I feel a little guilty. Here are three empty chairs and plenty of table space someone else could be using. (If it gets busy, I'll offer the seats to others. Or I'll move on.)

I have a proposal. How about we share? I hear that in Europe, it's standard to practice to take an empty chair regardless if someone is sitting at the table. Can we adopt that practice? It won't hurt you or me or anyone. Really. And it might actually help more people get some wireless and a place to sit – and help the shop earn more income so they can keep the doors open and the wireless free.

I'm thinking that the shops and cafes could offer some sort of table tag or tent or something that signals willingness to share. Maybe even just a card on the table. In a Twitter conversation about this topic this morning @y0mbo (John Uhri) said, "They could use those flip menu stands that show green and red based on willingness to share the table." It could even be as simple as a card that is red on one side and green on the other. Just lay it on the table.

I'd love to hear your thoughts on this. Have you noticed the issue? Have you seen anyone moving to solve the issue? Do you even think it's an issue? Any ideas?

P.S. Mobility is important and these places offer a significant service. So, while we're at it, let's help the shops as much as we can.

• Be an evangelist. No, I don't mean for you to prosetylize your religion to other patrons. I'm talking about telling other people about the shop and what you love about it. Help them market.
• Buy a little more if you can. They're in business. That free wireless costs them something. You don't always have to buy more than the $1.75 bottomless cup of Joe, but maybe you can add a bagel from time to time.
• Tip. It's easy. Toss the change in the jar. Give 'em a buck.

The Delicious Present

I left my house at 8:30 this morning headed for an appointment with my doctor. About 10 minutes away from home (and 15 minutes from the doctor's) I realized I'd forgotten my phone. Instant panic. I thought, "oh my God, how will I know if someone's emailed? And what if someone calls? Plus, that's my watch!" After a few moments of a quickening pulse I came to my senses. "It's only a phone. I'll survive."

For the remainder of my drive, I pushed away a few impulses to grab my phone, my imaginary phone, from my pocket. And while in the waiting room, I felt that familiar twinge when I saw my fellow waiters all happily, or perhaps maniacally, tapping away at their phones.

And then I settled in.

I looked around the waiting room at the colors of the walls and the curves and corners of the furniture. Then I glanced through the window to see big white fluffy snowflakes floating down from the sky. While each flake took it's own gentle journey to the ground, the combination of the wind's influence and each flakes' choice of speed and path created a somewhat chaotic and furious dance of white streaks, bobs and swirls.

In that moment I realized that I've been missing a lot with my constant attention to what other people want to be saying to me. Like the individual flakes, we each get to choose our journey. Rather than pay attention to fury and chaos the others, I chose to focus on my own path.

After my appointment I could have rushed home to get my phone. Instead, I went to a restaurant for a good, slow meal. I wrote a little while I waited for that meal to arrive. When it came, I put my pen and paper aside and tasted every single bite, unaware of the time or emails or text messages or phone calls. My meal – and my time in the present – was delicious.

What path will you chose today? What will you savor? Tell me your story.

Big Snowy Sledding Smiles

My kids are in 6th and 4th grades and until yesterday we'd never taken them sledding. Life had always been "too busy" to carve out a chunk of time to put on all the warm gear, get sleds together and find a hill. And that made me sad. You see, every time there's a good snow fall, I think of the days when my father or my sister would take me to Shadyside Park for some good old fashioned fun.

In reality, I think I have been the block to this traditional winter activity. I've spent so many years too fat and too depressed to consider sledding even close to fun. Now that I've lost some weight and feel good [thank you (mostly) dairy-free, gluten-free, protein-rich, low-carb (and so on) diet], I'm ready to live life. In fact, I'm craving it.

So, yesterday, I convinced the family that we had the time. No one argued. Not a bit. We aired up that snow tube we'd bought years ago, the one that had remained neatly folded in its package awaiting a chance to slide. We found the foam sled the kids have used to drag each other around the neighborhood. We crammed it all, with us and a lot of big, fat cold-weather clothes into my little Scion Xb. And we drove off to conquer the hill.

After getting over the momentary shock of trudging uphill in heavy boots, I began noticing the faces of my fellow sledders. Smiles. All of them. And the sounds. Lots of laughter. There was nothing but sheer joy on that hill. Even after a nasty crash or two, the sobs quickly turned to laughter. People of all ages, from toddlers to people in their sixties, were having a blast. I even saw adults with no children squealing with delight as they shared a ride down the hill. These people, including me, were all living in the moment. If only for a few hours, we'd turned off the voices telling us that we had to do our taxes, clean the house, look for a job, write a report or get ready for that presentation on Wednesday. We we're simply living.

It was exhilarating!

I thank my Twitter friends @y0mbo and @johnbthomas who turned me on to the sledding hill at Ft. Harrison State Park. It's a good one.

Bagging Behavior - BYOBags

Just an observation here, for what it's worth, which may be nothing...

I've been noticing people using their own reusable bags at stores, something I rarely saw even a few years ago. Here's how I've seen the behavior break down by store.

• Target – A lot of people (half?) at the SuperTarget I go to regularly are using reusable bags. There has been a swift upward swing in BYOBags at Target.
  
• Meijer – I never see anyone reuse bags there.
  
• Wal-mart – a few bring their own. (Can't say I go there too often, either, so my observations here are weak.)
• Whole Foods - Most of their shoppers use their own. A few leave with brown paper bags from the store.
  
• Trader Joe's – At least half of the people reuse. The alternative is brown paper bags from the store.
  

Do you notice any kind of pattern relating to store brand? Based on purely my own observations, the stores with progressive brands seem to attract people who bring their own bags. These are the cool, designer-y, "I'm a Mac" stores. The more practical, traditional stores ("I'm a PC") don't.

Also, unless I've missed something, Meijer and Wal-mart don't offer a bag credit for using your own bags. I haven't received such a credit, at least. Target and Whole Foods offer a bag credit of about 5 cents per bag to use your own. I think Trader Joe's offers some sort of incentive. I used to get a ticket for every bag I used to enter a weekly raffle.

These stores are all relatively close to one another, by the way. So, I've ruled out geography as a factor. Being that my observations are limited to the stores I visit...well, let me just reinforce the completely unscientific nature of my observations.

Oh, one more...Aldi. They have always required you either pay for bags or use your own. I'm still surprised to see people buy bags there. I've been known to load my trunk with loose items when I forget my bags. (I know. I'm a dork.)

You've probably figure out by now, I take my own reusable bags to the store. Not just the grocery store where I finally remember them every time, but I also take them to clothing stores, bookstores, shoe stores, etc. There I need a little more practice before it's a habit.

That's it. No lesson. Just my reported observations. Any thoughts on BYOBags?

Giving Thanks

Today, my post is part of a larger movement being billed as #tweetsgiving on Twitter, an effort to raise awareness and generate funds for Epic Change. Learn more or consider a donation. "Last year, Epic Change, with only a #hashtag and accepting donations online in a 48 hour period, raised over $10,000 for a school in Tanzania. Tweetsgiving 2009 will go partly to create a dormitory/orphanage, library, school, cafeteria and additional classrooms are needed in partnership with Kamptoni in Tanzania. The other portion will go towards funded future change makers and social entrepreneurs in less fortunate conditions."

When Thanksgiving rolls around, I can get caught up in all the shoulds and have tos. The shopping, the meal, the cleaning, how to say no to some people and accommodate others. Then someone will say something that reminds me this holiday is about gratitude.

I’m most thankful for my supportive, understanding husband of 19 years and our two funny, bright children who are now, much to my amazement, 11 and 9. And across my lifetime there have been numerous other people to whom I owe a debt of gratitude, from my parents and siblings to friends and teachers. I’d name them here, but it would take far too long. The best “things” in my life are definitely people. Having said that...

This year in particular, I’m grateful for:

• Job skills that don’t rely on an employer. I love being my own employer. I have lots of flaws, but overall, I think I’m a pretty decent leader, even if I’m only leading myself and the dog most days.
• Books. Yeah, those bound paper objects that authors, editors and publishers have labored over so that I may be inspired, entertained or otherwise edified. I love books so much that I call my home work space "the library."
• Pets. I’ve rediscovered my old dog. She’s become a big part of my daily life.
  
• Coffee shops, free wireless and iced green (or white) tea. I’ve had a lot of fun working alone but not alone. While we’re at it, how about social media in general? I’ve connected with some of the nicest, most genuine people using Twitter, Facebook and LinkedIn. And I’ve seen many of them in person. In coffee shops.
• The bizarre system of allergy shots, food avoidance, strange diet, supplements, medication, stress reduction and on and on that has helped me feel way better and lose over 60 pounds. I have my moments of weakness (mmmmm, chocolate) but overall, I’ve found it very livable.

Looking back at that, it really comes down to people, work, connectivity, health, animals and learning. Yeah, that seems about right.

I'm grateful to you, reader, for witnessing my little life here on Earth and for caring what I have to say. May your Thanksgiving be filled with gratitude.

Peace.

Other bloggers supporting Tweetsgiving:
Kenan Farrell
Douglas Karr
Nicki Laycoax
Lindsay Manfredi
Nancy Myrland
Pamela Reilly
Michael Reynolds
Scott Semester
Angie Six
Robby Slaughter
Amy Stark
Jon Speer
Lisa Sirkin Vielee
Scott Wise

Work Isn't Just About Money

My friend is on a courageous quest to find a career that is in alignment with his heart. Talking with a group of friends, he told us the careers he’s narrowed his search to. It’s an inspiring list that feels right for who he is. One of the more cautious of the group commented, “but those don’t pay that well.” I felt knocked back on my heels a bit. Only after a day of contemplation have I been able to verbalize my feelings.

There is income beyond Greenbacks. There are measures beyond coin. What's the cost of staying in a job/career/position that doesn't feed your soul – and may even eat away at it? Every $2 working a job that doesn't make your heart sing (when you're a person who needs to hear your heart singing) could be worth the same or less than every $1 in a job that does make your heart sing.

Maybe you’ve heard Andre Agassi speak about his book and his drug issues. People seem to be incredulous that he resorted to drugs to quell a depression he didn't understand. They say "how could someone who's on the top of his game, famous by anyone's standards and with more than enough money to have whatever he wants be depressed?" Andre's answer is that depression doesn't discriminate. It has nothing to do with how much you make or how famous you are. When it comes, it comes. And his depression came to him when he was feeling stuck in a life that wasn't his.

How does that relate? I think you probably get it, but in case I'm way too far out on a limb: making more money isn't the answer to one’s soul's calling. If amassing wealth regardless of the means (assuming ethics and moral behavior is engaged) feels like your calling, then the constant upward trajectory may be the right path. That’s fine.

As for my friend, he craves something different. Other people look at him and may see good balance in his life. They may see a loving wife and beautiful healthy children. They may see a good job that pays well and that his company loves him. They may even see that in a state that is experiencing over 10% unemployment he has a job. "What more do you want?" they may ask.

My wish for him is that he won’t let all the people who don't “get it“ get to him, that he won’t let them pollute his mind with those pictures of what we've been brainwashed to believe success is – the fat wallet, the big house, the fancy cars, the extravagant vacations. His measure of success might be quite different.

By the way, I’m not so naive to believe that if you find ”it“ that it will be sunshine and roses every minute of the job. All jobs come with annoyances, pain and failures. Even so, there’s just a difference of work that is aligned with your heart and simply going through the motions.

Trust yourself. Dare to be you.

Book Review: The Night Counter

I'm apparently in a phase of consuming writing rather than producing because I have yet another book review for you.

I never know how to pick a novel. A week ago I browsed the new fiction section of my local library branch and found myself attracted to a pretty blue cover, a title in an Arabic font and little stylized stars. What can I say? I’m still a designer at heart, I suppose. Anyway, after reading the flap summary, I decided I’d give the book a shot.

Having now finished, I can say that The Night Counter by Alia Yunis is a highly worthy read. The main character, Fatima Abdullah, is an 85 year old Arab American immigrant who spent the majority of her life in Detroit, Michigan. When we meet her, she is in Los Angeles where she has lived with her grandson for over three years and is visited nightly by the fabled Scheherazade. The story opens on the 992nd night of Scheherazade's visits and progresses through the 1,001st night when Fatima hopes to learn her own fate. Along the way, we learn about Fatima’s marriages, her childhood home in Lebanon and her offspring. As an added bonus, we sit in with two FBI agents eager to exercise The Patriot Act. The story is told third person yet the perspective varies slightly depending on the highlighted character.

As a woman, I can sympathize with Fatima’s joys and sacrifices in her life. As an white American, I was able to look through a different set of eyes at the American culture as well as the false assumptions and prejudices generalized to a whole group of people, especially since 9/11. And regardless of gender or ethnicity, I was reminded of the leaps of logic we make based on our own beliefs and outside influence.

I enjoyed the storytelling – both humorous and solemn. And as a student of the human condition, I appreciate the added perspective to my worldview. Now that I’m done with The Night Counter, I miss Fatima – and Scheherazade.