NOTE This is kind of a long post so I’m going to wait until next week to tell you more about some new happenings at THE MOXY PROJECT. Which I know is hard for those of us who lack patience. But which is also fitting with the theme of this post. So give me time as you give yourself time, and see you next week when you’ll find out more. (Hint: it’s about the February workshop. Also mix CD’s.)
Here’s a trivia question for you: Even after Starbucks had grown to 5 locations, which item was unavailable for purchase at their stores:
*Espresso
*Hot chocolate
*Biscotti
*Frappuccino blended beverages
It was a trick question—the answer is all of the above*. It actually wasn’t until several years after the company was up and running that they realized it would be a good idea to sell any beverages at all. At first, all they sold was beans (you could get a free taste of coffee if you asked nicely).
What would have happened to Starbucks if they had just kept selling beans? Maybe they would have found themselves a nice little niche market of coffee bean lovers who dug their groovy mermaid logo. Maybe they would have made enough money to build a major league stadium or ballpark in Seattle; “Starbucks Stadium”. Maybe they would have hit the big time and contracted to sell Starbucks coffee exclusively at all the games.
If that had happened, that would have been really neat. Starbucks and Seattle could have become synonymous with the idea of coffee and sports. “Great taste, less filling” debates would now include discussions of the merits of various flavored creamers. Instead of worrying about people drinking too much beer at a game and then driving home intoxicated, we’d be warning people of the dangers of driving while caffeinated. Drivers would get ticketed for riding the brakes and over-using their turn signals. There would be laws about not driving while drinking hot coffee.
But Starbucks picked a better story. They chose to build on what they knew, rather than to simply preserve what they knew. They chose to do what they thought would set the company up to succeed in the long run. They’ve done pretty okay so far.
It might not be too late for some of us to choose a better story. In fact, I’m almost certain it’s not too late. If you still have the will to go on, to do better, to be better, then that’s something. We can work with that.
The specifics might be different for each individual situation, but there are some similar themes. Regrets. Fears. Hopes. Ambitions. Insecurities. Securities. You get the idea. All of those things—and more—I’m certainly feeling as I walk my particular life path. I don’t want to just be selling beans forever, if you know what I mean. Whatever that looks like.
But here’s the thing: We don’t have to know everything right now. We really don’t. We can just …….start. And then give ourselves time to figure out the rest of the story. So that’s what I’m doing now. I’m giving myself time.
When I first found out I was pregnant with J, my oldest child, I was very happy. Then, later that same day, I was sitting on my couch at home and I suddenly commenced a full-on inner freak out about the fact that I was 2 months pregnant so doing the math meant that I had 7 MONTHS LEFT to become the person I always wanted to be. Seven months might be enough time to learn how to knit or to clean out the upstairs closet if you really discipline yourself and don’t ever leave the house to do anything else, but 7 months is actually very little time, no time at all in fact, if you’re planning to write that best seller and then talk about it on Oprah as you prepare to star in your own reality TV show—oh, and also learn to play the guitar and become a fantastic cook and get in incredible shape with miraculously whiter teeth. Really. Very. Little. Time.
When I was a child, I thought adults were so freaking powerful; they could drive cars and buy things and didn’t have to ask permission to go to the bathroom from anyone. And, they knew EVERYTHING. I remember being so convinced that grown-ups never made mistakes like us kids. If I made a mistake it was usually more like an accident that couldn’t be recovered from, like giving my Barbie a haircut or hiding a half-eaten peach behind my desk in my bedroom and then finding it 6 months later when it had sprouted into the carpet. But my mom talked about mistakes she made that seemed fine to me: “I never should have said I’d be in charge of that”, or “It was such a mistake to eat two pieces of pie”. My child-mind wondered; who wouldn’t want to be the boss of people, and since when does eating two pieces of pie become something to regret? When we wished we’d had three?
That day I realized I have this image of what grownups are supposed to be like, and I was not it. And I felt like I only had seven months (left) to get my stuff together. In seven months, I’d have to know exactly what I was doing every single day. I’d have to be an adult forever and ever and ever, no matter what.
Obviously, since then I have realized a few things. One, adults don’t really know everything. Two, babies don’t understand very much at first, so I actually had a little bit of a grace period. I could give myself time. And I have, for the most part. My kids will be the first to tell you I am far from perfect– I also love being the boss and I eat as much pie as I want. I still break out in a bit of a sweat when I get asked to chaperone a school field trip, but I’m told that’s relatively normal. Nothing to worry about.
It’s such a simple concept, really; giving myself time. Learning how to do anything takes time, and unlearning takes even longer. And other people are much more patient and forgiving than I give them credit for. Their expectations of me are almost always much lower than mine are for myself. And that is good news. It allows me to choose a better story for myself, and for others around me. I can feel the difference in how I’m building, rather than seeking simply to preserve and to keep safe.
Give Yourself Time. It’s the new black.
*Starbucks statistic from Never Eat Alone, by Keith Ferrazi
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