Email

Sent: October 11, 2010 12:35 PM

To: Denise Busley

Side note: This was a follow-up to an email introduction between our mutual friend, Scott Westerman. 

Hi Denise,

First of all, I want to let you know how much I enjoy Grand Traverse Pie, between the oatmeal, great coffee, and fireplace, I am there frequently!

Our group of young ladies would love to have you join us for a meeting! We meet every other Thursday morning at 7 am. However, we could very easily schedule a meeting based around your schedule and when you are in town again.

Also, I would love to meet with you for my 52 Cups of Coffee project. Each week for a year, I am meeting with someone new and writing about what I learn in the process. Again, I can be flexible to a time that works well for you.

I look forward to hearing from you!

Megan

 

Received: October 18, 2010, at 1:10 PM

Hi Megan, so nice to receive your e-mail last week. I realize this is late notice, however, Mike and I are on our way to Detroit for a function this evening and will be in East Lansing for a bit of time tomorrow morning. I was wondering if perhaps you might have time to meet?  I know for certain I will be back in town on the 19th of November (as we will be going to the game on Sat.). Let me know if either of these days might work for you.

With Warm Regards,

Denise Busley

GO GREEN!

Cup 14: Denise Busley

Friday, October 19th / Grand Traverse Pie Company / 10:00 AM

Cup 13

Person: Dave Isbell

Drink: Medium Americano from the Coolidge Biggby

In cup 13, I learned about sacrifice.

I wasn’t planning on it. I didn’t really want to. But it happened.

That happens a lot with sacrifice. It’s not planned. It’s not wanted. But it happens.

Or so I thought before I spent an hour drinking coffee with Dave Isbell. He gave me the harrowing news that sacrifice would be an unavoidable part of my life—not exactly news I wanted to hear. Luckily his next piece of advice was more optimistic:

While I can’t avoid sacrifice, I can be proactive and take control over the sacrifices I make.

He went on to say that sacrifice isn’t necessarily a bad thing. The act of consciously choosing sacrifice adds incredible meaning and value to life. I wasn’t sure I believed him—but I thought back to one of my clearest experiences with sacrifice and it made sense.

My freshman year of high school, I joined the varsity cross country team and suddenly my life was consumed with running. I woke up, ran, went to class, ran, ate dinner, finished my homework, went to sleep, and woke up the next day to do it all again. Every choice I made went through a running filter. If it helped my running, I did it. If it hurt my running, I said no.

And it paid off. Our team had a lot of success and I accomplished many of my running goals. But not without a price—I had to pass up a lot of high school fun in the process.

Yet, as when I look back, I wouldn’t change anything about high school. Running never felt like a burden stopping me from what I wanted to do. Running gave me a sense of purpose and that made the trade-offs worthwhile. I was willing to sacrifice the short-term excitement so I could reach my goals.

Dave had a similar story. From the age of 13, he knew that his destiny was to be a rock star so he worked tirelessly and willingly made sacrifices to get closer to success. By the time he was 21, his band was asked to go on tour—the hard work had paid off.

But then he faced another sacrifice. He declined the offer and ended the band. The rock star life conflicted with his responsibilities as the husband of a young family and he knew he wasn’t mature enough to handle both. So he left the stage, and the dream, because he knew it was the right thing to do—his family had become his first priority.

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.

After leaving the band, Dave did some serious soul searching that eventually led him to his role as Alumni Career Services Coordinator for Michigan State. Every day he meets with alumni—usually in their late 40s and 50s—unhappy with their career situation looking for a change.

Many are alumni that spent their lives going through the motions—went to class, joined a few clubs, accepted the best job offer—but never stopped to see what direction they were headed. Why should they? They had a degree and a job—they were set!

Then a few decades go by and—when they have a mortgage, car payment, and three kids to put through college—they realize they aren’t happy in their career. But the financial burdens prevent them from leaving their job. They are forced to sacrifice their happiness—but it’s not a meaningful sacrifice. It is a forced sacrifice, which means it is a burden, not a decision that creates meaning.

Dave works hard to change that. His goal is to help alumni discover their vision and find a job that allows them to play a role in the pursuit of that vision. Because he knows if he can help them define their greater purpose in life, he can help them make meaningful choices. So when life gets difficult—and it always does—they can choose to sacrifice instead of accept a burden.

He shared the lesson with me so I could discover what I’m willing to sacrifice now—when I am young and without responsibilities—instead of finding out the hard way 20 years down the road when I’m in his office looking for advice.

And I am grateful for that.

Without Cup 13, I likely would have ignored the concepts of sacrifice and humility until it was too late. I would have left MSU with my fancy degree and fulltime job expecting the world to give me everything it owed me after my four years of hard work in college.

But the world doesn’t owe me anything. I’m 22. I have a lot of learning and hard work ahead of me—and if I think otherwise, I’ll end up falling flat on my face.

As Dave said, many times, “You can either choose humility or be humbled.”

Our coffee meeting was somewhat of a wake up call. I was expecting Dave to confirm the conclusions I’ve drawn in the past 12 weeks about careers—not introduce a whole new level of things to consider. And consider it I have; his quote has been on my mind since our meeting. It’s nestled in the back of my brain right next to, “Everybody makes sacrifices, you might as well chose the ones you’re willing to make.”

I have a feeling they will be there for a long time.

Email 

Sent: September 27, 2010 9:27 AM

 To: Dave Isbell

Good morning, Dave! 

I hope you had a great weekend. I was wondering if you were available for a meeting next week (Oct 4-Oct 10). 

I am working on a yearlong blogging project called 52 Cups of Coffee (http://www.52cups.tumblr.com). Each week for a year, I am meeting with someone I don’t know and writing about what I learn and how I change in the process. I would love it if you would be one of my 52 cups. 

If you are interested, mornings work well for me M-F, and my Tuesday and Thursday afternoons are also free. 

I look forward to hearing from you, 

Megan Gebhart

 

Received: September 27, 2010, at 9:56 AM

Absolutely! I’ve been meaning to track you down anyway. I know we have bumped into one another on Twitter so it is always fun to meet my Tweeps irl. The only thing I have available next week is 10/04 at around 1:30. If that won’t work for you, let me know what might work the following week.

I look forward to meeting you soon!

Dave Isbell

Cup 13: Dave Isbell

Monday, October 4th / Biggby Coffee on Coolidge / 1:30 PM

Cup 12

Person: Chad Badgero 

drink: small latte from Gone Wired Cafe

A slushie changed Chad Badgero’s life.

Seriously.

Chad’s first job was teaching high school in a small Michigan town. Chad taught English, but loved theatre, so after school he assisted with the school’s drama club. He enjoyed working with the kids, but the director was another story. He was a longtime faculty member who never seemed happy and often yelled at students. Chad could never understand why.

Then the slushie incident happened.

During a heated moment at rehearsal, the drama teacher threw a slushie in the face of a student (yes, just like in Glee). Chad couldn’t believe it. And later that night it clicked.

The Drama teacher wanted to be up on that stage performing, not sitting in the audience directing. The loss of a dream had turned him into a bitter old man.

Chad came to a cold realization:

Someday that could be me.

Chad had fallen in love with theatre when he was in fifth grade and had been involved in the drama club throughout high school. Yet, he knew a degree in theatre wasn’t practical and chose an education degree instead. He had always been interested in education and knew it was a good fit. But he never stayed away from theatre long.

In fact, the summer after his senior year of high school, Chad didn’t have much going on so he decided to direct his first show. He gathered his friends, picked a show, found a venue, built sets, made costumes, and directed his stars. They called themselves the Peppermint Creek Players.

Chad quickly found out there was more to directing than he originally thought, but nonetheless, on opening night there were people in the audience. They felt a sense of accomplishment. When summer came to an end, he left for college with the assumption that the show was a one-time occurrence.

As his freshman year was coming to an end, his friends asked about another summer production, so he once again—and much to his surprise—found himself in the director’s chair. The summer shows continued throughout Chad’s college years, but he considered it a hobby. He focused on teaching. He was content with teaching English and helping with the Drama club after school.

But after the slushie incident, he couldn’t shake the thought from his mind:

Someday that could be me.

He knew he was happy at his job, but would he still be happy in 20 years? Was he about to settle for a stable job that he would turn him into a bitter old man regretting not trying his hand at a life of theatre?

A few weeks later, Chad told his boss he was resigning at the end of the year.

It was one of the hardest decisions he had ever made. He loved his job, but he knew he had to leave. The reaction from the boss surprised him—but not in the way he expected. He was supportive of Chad’s choice and left him with words Chad will never forget,

“Never let something good prevent you from something great.”

And with that, Chad packed everything he had into a U-Haul and moved to New York City to try his hand at acting. The move wasn’t easy, but things started to fall into place. Within two weeks, Chad found an acting job that eventually led him to an Off-Broadway gig. He had taken a leap of faith to follow his dream—and he had succeeded. He should have been singing from the rooftops!

But he wasn’t. Instead, he was blasé about the whole situation. He loved acting, but he realized to survive in New York, he had to take the roles he was offered, even if they weren’t particularly interesting to him. He missed the power he had during the summers when he chose projects that meant something to him. He also missed the Midwest, so he left the glow of his newly found success to move back home to start something new.

The Peppermink Creek Players became the Peppermint Creek Theatre Company.

That was in 2002. Eight years later, the company has made a name for itself in Lansing producing three shows annually. Chad also started the Renegade Theatre Festival, which is a free festival that brings together the various college and local theatre groups for a weekend that hosts 23 different productions in three days. Oh, and Chad is teaching again too—drama at LCC.

I asked Chad if he thinks about how his life would be had the slushie incident not happened. He thinks about it all the time. Without that wake up call he would not have faced the decision to sacrifice a good situation to take a risk on something great.

Cup 12 with Chad made me realize important change often requires a wake-up call. We cling to good because it is safe—in a stable situation, we know exactly what to expect. Conversely, the potentially great things ahead of us are intangible, uncertain, scary.

It is difficult to trust something better is out there waiting for us—something we are capable of achieving. So we settle because we are afraid to trade stability and contentedness for the hard work and unpredictability that comes with striving for something bigger. Because if we fail, we will have lost both good and great.

But Chad proves how the reward can far outweigh the risk. He trusts his gut and repeatedly takes a stable situation and turns it on its head. As a result, he has created a life that he looks forward to each morning. A life he finds fulfilling.

I know at some point in my life, I will have a proverbial slushie thrown in my face that exposes something missing in my life. When that happens I hope Chad’s story will give me the courage to take a risk and shake things up.

To sacrifice good for a chance at great.