Nomad Life, Again

I’ve been more quiet than I’d like to be here at 52 Cups.

I’ve been drinking lots of coffee with some amazing folks but I’m slow to post. Why? I’ve jumped back into nomadic lifestyle (I spent 14 months traveling after college), which I had planned on when I quit my job: 9 cites in November, 8 countries in December and January.

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(Proof of Travel) 

I love being on the road and experiencing the unknowns and oddities of constantly being in new place. I like throwing out the routine and rhythm of normal life and replacing it with curiosity and sense of adventure for what each unique day will bring—especially when the travel involves friends or family.

The downside of travel is that I always overestimate my ability to carve out space and time to write. Travel opens so many doors for interesting conversation and most times I opt for new conversation (or adventure) over writing.

For a bit I was beating myself up about not hitting my goal of posting each Thursday like I had planned until an insightful conversation helped me see the importance of striving for Thursday posts but being compassionate for the weeks where the posts are a bit delayed due to travel. In 2014, when I’m back to having a home and a more-normal routine, I can set my efforts to regular posting. Until then, I’m going to embrace the adventure and post as often as I can in the process.

So here’s the rundown:

I’m currently in Australia(!), learning to scuba dive and soaking in a new culture I’ve never experienced. Then I’m off to Asia: Hong Kong, Singapore, Malaysia, Laos and Thailand with a quick layover in Tokyo before returning to San Francisco January 19th!

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A major takeaway in so many of my coffee conversations has been: travel while you’re young and I’m doing my best to follow that advice!

Expect some posts along the way and a regular content schedule in 2014. And have a wonderful holiday!  

Cup 4 | Doug Tumminello

Date: Wednesday, November 27th 

Location: Ink! in Denver, Colorado 

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Doug Tumminello is preparing for an audacious adventure. In November of 2014 the 47-year-old lawyer from Denver, Colorado will attempt to traverse 750 miles from the edge of Antarctica to the South Pole, solo. To achieve his goal of reaching the pole in less than 35 days, Doug will average 20 miles a day, all of which will be gradually uphill against incessant winds and below-zero temperatures. He’ll have nothing more than his thoughts to keep himself company and a pack filled with everything he’ll need to survive.

To an outsider it seems crazy, but to anyone he knows him, it is just Doug being Doug. He sets sights on an audacious goal and chases it with discipline and determination until he succeeds.

In 2006, Doug was the leader of Team No Limits, a private exhibition up Mount Everest. Three years later, he was a member of the 8-person team that set the world record for the fastest row across the Indian Ocean: 3,700 miles in 58 days. He’s run the Leadville 100 Ultramarathon (100 miles at elevations of 9,000 feet and higher) and climbed the highest mountains in both North and South America. Oh, he’s also a partner in a Denver law firm and devoted husband and father of two.

Ask him why and he’ll tell you with a self-aware chuckle,  “I have no idea, I’ve asked myself this question a lot but have yet to find an answer.”

The answer might simply be that Doug was born with the spirit of adventure:

You’ve probably noticed this with your own adventures. All good adventures have the hallmark of an ancient epic poem—think the Iliad or the Odyssey. The thing that those epics have in common is that the hero, or the protagonist, leaves society and crosses a threshold from which there is no return and then undergoes a series of defining events throughout the journey—which are dangerous, enlightening, funny, whatever they may be—then the protagonist ultimately has to reenter society and integrate those lessons into their lives. That’s kind of what epic poetry is about. And I think all great adventures are kind of like that.

… 

Doug and I met at a coffee shop in his downtown Denver office building. He’s the son-in-law of my high school guidance counselor turned friend, Sally Craig. In 2012, when I told her about my planned trip to Antarctica she excitedly responded, “You’ll have to talk to my son-in-law, Doug. He’s planning an Antarctic adventure of his own”. A year later, while back in the Rocky Mountains for Thanksgiving, we made our conversation about adventures happen.

… 

Doug’s noticeable characteristics are his calm and confident demeanor; disciplined, yet friendly. Born into a military family, Doug followed suit by going to West Point Academy before joining the Army. His time in the service helped develop the skills of discipline, focus, preparation and persistence. Skill that have supported his continual thirst for adventure; skills he continues to hone as he tackles greater challenges. Before his row across the Indian Ocean he would train on a rowing machine tucked away in a dusty corner of his gym for four hours with no music, no TV and no breaks.

With ocean rowing turning around wasn’t an option. Once the expedition started, their only real option was to finish. The same is true for the solo ski. The ocean was monotonous, painful and long, but the dedicated training gave Doug confidence he could endure the difficult task, but he had company. Antarctica’s challenge will be the painful monotony in addition to solitude and an unchanging scene of snow and sky. Having been overwhelmed by the size, isolation and magnificence of Antarctica myself, the mental challenge of the expedition seemed more daunting than the physicality of skiing 750 miles.

The key, Doug said, is staying present:

Really stay in the moment the whole time while you’re on your feet, find a way to disassociate from the discomfort and the pain of what is truly the monotony. It’s sort of being able to do those two really opposite things at the same time, you know, really staying within what you’re doing and your own presence so that you’re safe and then really putting aside the physical and even mental pain of it. If you think too far in the future you’ll just disintegrate—thinking oh I have 749 more miles. Or it’s easy to get discouraged if you think you’ll average 25-30 miles a day and you only do 5 miles a day.

Listening to Doug reminded me that any big goal (like skiing to the South Pole) is really just a thousand little goals leading up to one exceptional goal: Make it another mile. Make it another mile. Make it another mile.

This was a powerful take away from my conversation with Doug: with discipline to stay focused on the most immediate little goal and persistence to keep pushing forward, the big audacious goal is inevitably reached. This leads to second inspiring take away from coffee with Doug: have a big audacious goal.

In fourth grade, Doug read of Ernest Shackleton’s escape from Antarctica. The story lit a fire within Doug. He decided he would someday replicate the feat of an open-boat crossing of the Southern Ocean between Antarctica and South Georgia island—some of the roughest water in the world. This decision has been impetus for his many expeditions. Everest, the Indian Ocean, the South Pole: these are all intermediate goals inching him closer to his grand Shackleton goal.

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Hear Doug, in his own words, talk about the values he tries to instill in his two children: 

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Doug’s inspiring Shackleton story illustrates the power of a big audacious goal as it creates direction and motivation for living and a framework to develop discipline to overcome big challenges—in life and in sport. Doug’s story isn’t just about climbing mountains—it’s about searching for excellence and adventure, for living life with passion and making the most of the finite time we have on earth.

I left my conversation buzzing.

What is my big audacious goal? What is my own version of Shackleton’s Escape? The thing that will inspire me to be my best everyday—not just for myself but for those I love?

It’s a big question. And a scary one. I can’t be the only 20something guilty of thinking more about the short term rather than setting definite long-term goals, breaking them down into smaller steps and developing a strategy to achieve them. Goal setting is an intimidating (and fear-of-failure inducing) activity. It’s much easier to check Twitter frequently and hope for the best.

While you can make a great living taking life as it comes, the reality is that if you want a Mt. Everest sized accomplishment, you’ll need a plan. It’s scary because when you declare what you want, it’s easier to know if you’ve failed. But Doug puts that fear in perspective:

The risk of failure isn’t something that stops me and that fear of that risk does stop a lot of people. I’m not just talking about climbing mountains or whatever, the risk of failure just stops people in their tracks and I really do hope I demonstrate that you shouldn’t let that stop you. Instead, that’s just part of the deal. It’s part of the game. It’s how we learn. We learn through those failings. But on that point, when people go on expeditions really what they’re looking for is that sense of adventure and often in not making it to the top is where the real adventure happens. you really do get what you’re looking for so to speak, if you know what you’re looking for.

The power of ambitious goals is that the simple act of chasing them leads to growth, learning and best of all, adventure—regardless of success of failure. 

Like epic poetry, life’s best stories are those that involved defining moments that result from a meaningful pursuit of something greater. Rarely are stories written about folks with grand ideas they were too afraid to chase. 

You can’t be afraid to leave the shores, you know, just because the risk of failure is there. It looms for all of us, you know. We have a very finite amount of time to do what we’re going to do while we’re here.

What will your story be? 

Cup 3 | Ligaya Tichy

Cup 3 intimidated me.

It’s a feeling I’m unfamiliar with when it comes to coffee.

She intimidated me the day I met her in Austin, Texas at the South by Southwest tech conference two years ago—and that was before I learned of the reputation she’d built as a Silicon Valley thought-leader on community building after playing a pivotal role in the early stages of successful startups Yelp and Airbnb.   

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When you meet Ligaya Tichy you immediately sense the passion and drive behind her caring personality, sharp wit and intrepid style.

My nerves led me to realize I hadn’t talked to many women my age in the first round of Cups. Furthermore, the women I did talk to weren’t in the tech space. The reason, I concluded, is it’s tough to write about phenomenal women without feeling inferior. I’d rather extol the accomplishments of someone chasing dreams significantly different than my own.

We met in a crowded coffee shop in San Francisco’s Financial District. Ligaya walked in wearing stylish black pants with edgy tears down the front. We ordered our coffee and found a cozy spot at large community table. Between sharing mutual friends, working in the same industry and having met before, launching the conversation was easy.

Born in Boston and raised in a small hippy town in Iowa, Ligaya studied Anthropology and International Relations at Tufts University. Working several jobs throughout college to pay her tuition, Ligaya didn’t have time to worry about what happened post-college. Although, even if she had, she likely wouldn’t have worried much. Ligaya is the type that trusts her intuition will lead her down the right path.

Without much foresight, Ligaya sold all her possessions after graduation and moved to Bali where her aunt had founded a birthing center in an area that had little access to developed healthcare. She was deeply moved by the experience, and several years later she became a certified doula, trained to help coach women through childbirth.

While still in Bali, but facing expiring visas, Ligaya and her boyfriend at the time discussed their prospects. They were big fans of House music and caught wind of the thriving House scene in San Francisco. A friend offered her couch as a landing pad so with nothing more than a backpack full of sarongs, Ligaya followed her intuition to a new adventure in California. With the little money she had, a coat and pair of pants purchased from goodwill, and a strong sense of determination and work ethic, Ligaya set out to find a job in the new city.

Close to a decade later, Ligaya’s life looks nothing like when she first arrived. In fact, she never imagined life would turn out so well—her enthusiasm and dedication led to a career many in the tech space only dream about. Soon after arriving in San Francisco she discovered and fell in love with Yelp, which at the time was a fledgling company. Ligaya relentlessly badgered the CEO for a job; declaring she’d sweep the floors if that’s what it would take to be a part of Yelp’s mission.

Yelp relented and offered her a operations manager role, which began her rise to becoming a well-known community builder in the Valley. Ligaya launched and developed several key markets for Yelp before leaving after four years to do the same for the housing rental site, Airbnb. When the community at Airbnb reached a stable level, Ligaya left and now enjoys a more balanced lifestyle serving as a mentor and investor for early-stage startups while spending plenty of quality time with her fiancé and dog.

When I met Ligaya in Austin she had an edgy haircut, bold lipstick and confident presence. I was a senior in college and remember thinking, I wish I had the courage to be so brazen and bold.

Sitting down to coffee with Ligaya was my chance to uncover the source of that confidence and enthusiasm—what emerged from our conversation was a thought-provoking look at careers, authenticity and the quest to live a meaningful life.

In her own words, Ligaya addresses the pressures of tough career choices (contains expletives).

Ligaya grew up in a progressive community and her passion and audacity may, in part, come from her father: a renaissance man with great artistic talent and strong opinions. It might also come from failed attempts at fitting in:

We were one of the only non-white families. My mom was Asian, my dad Czech. Even just having immigrant parents was different and I never fit in. I had a weird name that no one could pronounce (‘Ligaya’, she explained, rhymes with papaya).

I have a friend, Cici, who is Chinese and also grew up in the midwest. We talked about how when we were younger we wanted to have blond hair and blue eyes and just fit in. Well, you hit a certain point in your life where you just shrug it off because you know it’s never going to happen. I think this engendered an attitude of: well, if I can’t fit in why even try?

Despite that viewpoint, deciding to ignore the status quo was easier in theory than practice. The internal conflict that exists between the desire for self-expression and the fear of rejection is incredibly strong—regardless of outward confidence or attitude. Ligaya was not immune to the challenge of being authentic in a world filled with social norms and outspoken critics—but she shared a viewpoint that revealed the magic of being courageous and letting your true self shine:

If we want to keep evolving as a people we should let a little piece of ourselves out so that we can see how other people respond, so we can question our own assumptions, so we are able to evolve in some way. There’s a point where you just say it’s worth the risk. You know?

It is a really tough thing. I think it gets better as time passes; not as you get older, it’s not a perspective thing, it’s just that as you start to form relationships with people that are deeper, people you know and trust love you for you, it allows you to go a little bit further with that person. And in going deeper with that person, a little more of you comes out each time.

If you only spend time with those people, you almost can’t help but grow into who you are because when you’re with people you really love and that love you, it makes you want to share the real parts of you. It’s a good testing ground—a good practice—for being that version of yourself all the time.

It was during this explanation that my intimidation turned to appreciation. In all the coffee conversations I’ve had I’ve never directly touched on the power of relationships and the intimacy, trust, and vulnerability that happens within them—something I don’t think people talk about often enough.

Ligaya is an insightful, articulate and compassionate force. Our conversation had many topics that resonated with me: the importance of approaching life with enthusiasm, dedicating oneself to meaningful work, not being swayed by the viewpoints of others, finding a balance that makes you happy. However, it was this statement about being the authentic version of yourself that I found most meaningful.

The world is a scary place—for everyone. As Ligaya said, “Such is the human condition: suffering is inevitable”.

Regardless of wealth or success, we all wrestle with fears and insecurities. We all want to make a meaningful contribution to the world and fulfill our potential. We want to be loved and appreciated for who we are deep down.

But these hopes and desires are so raw and scary we often keep them bottled inside where they feel safe. We look around at successful and confident people (or the seemingly perfect lives we see on social networks) and decide it’s best to hide away the shadowy parts of our personality and only present our own confident and successful parts. It’s the fear of being vulnerable in an often harsh world.

This is ok to some degree, the raw parts of ourselves should be reserved for those that have earned our trust, not broadcast to the world.  

As Ligaya said, finding someone, or a group of someones, that you trust love you for you creates a safe space to slowly reveal the authentic self that hides behind the social mask. This takes courage, a lot of courage. But to be vulnerable with trusted friends, family or a significant other can lead to an incredible source of power: to reveal a deeper part of yourself and receive love and acceptance in return is life-changing. Especially because as you become more comfortable being authentic around close friends, you become more comfortable being authentic all the time. And this world could use more authenticity.

Plus, you create stronger relationships with those around you:

It’s a universal thing—the deeper you get to know someone the more you realize they are struggling with the same things. And that’s actually another reason to talk about what you’re going through and talk about what you think. In a way it can be very liberating for people because they go, Oh I’m not alone in thinking this. I’m not alone in feeling this or hating this particular thing about myself. Like you said, you find strength in solidarity around these things.

I was intimidated by Ligaya because I compared her history of achievements to my inner insecurities, She’s incredibly talented and successful, why would she want to talk to me?

I know she’ll cringe when she reads those words because Ligaya doesn’t care about titles or accomplishments. Ligaya cares about people.

It is that compassion and drive to understand what makes people tick that has led her to a successful career building communities. Ligaya understands that we as humans are wired to connect and that through connection and community we create opportunities to support, educate and celebrate with each other; to become better humans that create a better world.  

But first, we must find the courage to connect. 

.. 

Cup 2 | James T Slater

Date: Monday, November 4 

Location: JJ’s Cafe in Nashville, Tennessee 

During a trip to Nashville to visit family, I reached out to childhood friend, and former Miss Tennessee, Brenna Mader, who graciously introduced me to Grammy-winning songwriter, James T Slater. We met at a popular coffee shop near Vanderbilt University to talk about music, art and beautiful accidents.

Grammy-nominated songwriter James T. Slater grew up believing you couldn’t make a career out of music.  

James spent his formative years in Panama. It was there that he, unwillingly, learned to play piano. Despite his best efforts to get out of lessons, his music-loving mother insisted, “You’re going to thank me someday for not letting you quit.”

It wasn’t until he went to his first concert, Santana in a large soccer stadium, that James, captured by the magic of the moment, realized: I’m going to do music.

But not without hesitation. 

"I liked piano, but I didn’t think you could make a career out of it, but once I got into a band at 15 we started playing some Santana song’s. You know that song Oye Como Va? [He pauses to sing a few lyrics using the table as a drum.] I learned that and we started playing in my basement and all the sudden girls start coming around and we’re like, whoa, this is really cool!”

He started making money playing gigs on the weekends. His mom would drive him in the family station wagon and drop him off to play, then come back after the show and pick him up. He was hooked. Music was all he wanted. 

But the voice in his head remained, you can’t make a career out of music. 

COLLEGE DROPOUT 

After high school graduation, James left Panama for East Carolina State where he planned to put music to the side to focus on a business degree. A week into the semester he saw a sign on campus: Weekend Band Needs Keyboard Player.

His internal voice said, Do not do this. You need to study. The other side of him said, Well just call and see what’s going on. The next thing James knew, he was in a band spending his weekends driving around the state playing show after show. 

His grade suffered but he didn’t care. He’d finally surrendered to the message his heart had been sending all along: I have to do music in order to be happy.

20 MINUTES CHANGES EVERYTHING

James left college to focus on sharpening his piano and songwriting skills with a new band that was playing a lot of shows. When the band was offered a two-week gig in Atlanta before Christmas, James immediately decided, I need to write a Christmas Song for Atlanta. So he sits down and 20 minutes later, he’s written a catchy song called All I Want from Santa is a Girl from Atlanta.

Every night they played that song and people flipped out. After one show, a guy approached him and said, “You guys gotta record that.” Young guys with no money, they found the cheapest recording studio in Atlanta, recorded the song in a day, and stopped by the local radio station to convince the DJs to give it a listen.  

"We’re literally driving home, a moment I’ll never forget, after a Zeppelin song the DJ says, ‘We just had a bunch of kids drop this song off, we’re going to play it, tell us if you like it.’ They played the song and afterward, the phones were going off the hook."

The song was a hit and James was caught in his first wave of success: limos, music videos, big events. Everything you expect when you ‘make it big’.

THE START OF SOMETHING BIG 

The Christmas season passed but the momentum for James’ newfound spotlight continued. Publishers convinced him to move to LA where he found a gig as a house piano player at Carroll O’Conner’s star-studded Beverly Hills bar at night while he wrote songs during the day. On a whim, he took a piano gig in Manhattan Beach, where a guy sent his tape to Europe and a few weeks later James finds himself looking at an opportunity to play in Europe.

In Europe he joined a band called Vaya Con Dios and suddenly his nights in small venues were replaced with huge arena shows, tours around Europe, and his songs becoming hits on the radio. He’d become a big deal in the European music scene and he loved it.

ANOTHER UNEXPECTED TURN OF EVENTS 

James was living in Switzerland when 9/11 happened and he realized he wanted to be closer to his family so he shifted focus on how to write for Nashville. In the process of moving, he started working on a country song as a gift to his brother who had just become a father. He called it In My Daughter’s Eyes

He didn’t realize the song would change his life. Within a month of being in Nashville, country singer Martina McBride picked up the song and a year later James was nominated for a Grammy. 

"It’s weird, life never turns out quite like you’d think. If you’d told me I’d write a song about having a daughter (when I don’t have a daughter) and that would become a big song and get me to the Grammy’s, I wouldn’t have believed you."

Although Gretchen Wilson’s power ballad Redneck Woman ended up winning the Grammy, the song solidified James as a bonafide country music songwriter, which led him to pen songs for country superstars like Tim McGraw, Kenny Chesney, Rascal Flatts and more.

His mom was right, he would thank her someday. The piano lessons uncovered a passion for music that turned into a wildly exciting a fulfilling career. 

BEAUTIFUL ACCIDENTS 

During our conversation, I told James that, like him, I pushed my creative passions to the side and convinced myself I needed to go into business: I was convinced I couldn’t make a career out of writing.

Like James, I also reached a point where I realized: I won’t be happy without writing. The story and insight James shared was comforting. When I asked him what advice he gives young aspiring songwriters he said:

"You don’t get into this business to make money. You get into it because writing music occupies your every molecule."

For me, the advice expanded beyond songwriting. If you’re lucky enough to uncover a passion that excites you deep in your soul, don’t fight it. It’s not easy, but as James said: 

"You have to be brave enough to just put this stuff down and put it out there. Then beautiful accidents happen." 

Here’s to hard work and beautiful accidents. 


Thanks to @jeannineyeah (officially my unofficial editor)!