Saturday, August 28, 2010

In Love With the Trash Man

The trash man took the chairs. Didn’t think he would, but he did. They were beautiful chairs, once. They went with the perfect round wood dining room table. They were high backed, cushioned all over and covered in a fabulous golden hued fabric. I remember when I first bought the perfect round wood dining room table with the six stunningly beautiful and super comfortable chairs.

The kids and I were in the green house. Our home. I was entertaining more than ever and the three of us were very happy. Our house was perfect. Every inch of it bore our signature and everything that had been redone from the mantel over the fireplace to the faux finishing on the stair banister was done with love and care. It was the small and manageable home with the perfect for entertaining square dining room that called out for the perfect round wood dining table. One of my favorite stores at the time was Storehouse and they had not only the perfect table but the ability to order the perfect chairs to go with it.

They took almost two months to arrive and it was well worth the wait. That perfect table and chair set was the foundation of our house. We entertained on it constantly. We had dinner party after dinner party after dinner party. We loved on our table and chairs and in return they brought us many unforgettable memories.
Then we went through the crash and had to move into an apartment that didn’t have enough room for the perfect wood dining table and perfectly cushioned set of golden fabric chairs. Regrettably, they had to live in the garage. We managed two amazing dinner parties. In the garage. With the China and the stemware. Just wasn’t the same though.

Then we moved into a house with a dining room. But things were never the same again. One of the chairs broke. It was sad. I was sad. Then another of the chairs broke. It was almost like they were saying something. Life was different. Life wasn’t okay. Then another chair broke. Three chairs just don’t make a dinner party.

Lia is off at college by now and Casey has one foot out the door. Entertaining in on hold. Life is on hold. Breathing is on hold. The perfect round wood table with the three lonely chairs is barely hanging on to its memories. I think we are barely holding on to our memories. Memories from the green house with the perfectly square dining room, six cushioned chairs and the canopy of trees.

We all move, yet again, and Lia doesn’t have a dining room table. She doesn’t need the three remaining chairs so we split up the set. The table looks perfect in her new home like it might have enough energy to generate some new memories. Casey doesn’t need a table or chairs in his new dining room; he has the ping pong table. What would a group of guys need a dining room table complete with memories for anyway? I moved into a house that already had a dining room table and a dining room that doesn’t fit round any way.

The three broken chairs stopped in the garage. They’ve been looked at and can’t be fixed. They are finished. Goodwill wouldn’t take them because they were broken. The Salvation Army wouldn’t take then either. The garbage man was my last hope to put them and my memories out of their misery. They left with him this morning.
I read an article a while back that has stayed with me. It was about a woman who was happiest when all her belongings fit in her car. She treasured the time when she had no ‘stuff’. Throughout this last move the story of this woman has energized me into getting rid of stuff. I don’t want any baggage. Material or emotional. No more stuff. While I have too much to fit in my little green car, I have a heck of a lot less than I did just a month ago. When the garbage man took the broken chairs, I felt huge relief that I had just disposed of some ‘stuff’. Material and emotional baggage drove off down the street.

Of course, everything I do these days has some correlation to publication of the book and some relation to owning a small business. (We are in the middle of conceptual editing right now!) How many small businesses are full of broken chairs? How many small businesses have too much stuff? How many spend too much time on making things pretty instead of taking care of the things that need to be taken care of or too much time spending money on the things that are just unnecessary window dressing? How many spend time decorating the waiting room instead of spending time and money on getting customers in the front door?

Was I the only one who heard a recent statistic regarding storage units and how they are our fastest growing industry? That there is one storage unit for every 10 households? What is the deal with the ‘stuff’? Doesn’t make us any richer. Doesn’t make us any happier. Probably won’t make your business any more successful. Having dinner parties on the old and scarred table with the six mismatched chairs I have now are going to make me as many unforgettable memories as my perfect round wood table with the beautiful cushioned chairs ever did.

Thank you, Mr. Trash Man. I may fit it all in my little car yet.

Friday, August 13, 2010

Riches-No Money Required

Don’t you love that intoxicating feeling when you slowly put something in your mouth that you know is going to amaze all of your senses and completely satisfy your hunger? You know as you are lifting the spoon or fork up to close your eyes and savor before you even taste. Then when you have whatever it is in your mouth, you move your jaw ever so slightly to make sure that the sensations reach every single one of your taste buds and you assure yourself that you can feel the flavor past your gut and down to your feet.

I just had this experience. This deeply satisfying and richly rewarding experience. With a group of very old and very treasured friends. I felt this experience on every physical and emotional level and absolutely down to my toes. It was, in a word, magnificent.

I owned my big company for 18 years. During that time, I wasn’t able to spend time with my friends or do any work cultivating relationships on a deep or truly connected level. My children were small and needed me, my company was small and needed me more. My life was needy. I allowed my needy life to get in the way of the life I needed. In the way of the relationships I needed.

I hadn’t seen my friend Carol in too many years. She lives in a city that I frequent on business now so we really have had no excuse for not spending delicious time over a beverage or two over the last year other than the neediness of both our patterns. Twenty plus years ago we lived in Tulsa together and shared the company of a third musketeer, Doug. While Carol and Doug have stayed close, Doug and I unfortunately have only connected over Christmas cards and letters.

Doug is going through a rough patch and decided he needed to spend some time with Carol and friends in Carol’s city. Carol and I connected and without hesitation, I made plans to be there and surprise him. What a magnificent surprise it was! What a stupendous day and evening we had. I chuckle now just thinking about the memories we shared from way back when and the new ones we made that day. We shared and made memories that no one and no experience can ever take away. We had a day that was lush and deep and everlasting, full of both laughter and soul searching conversation. You would have thought that the three of us hadn’t been parted for as long as we had. You would have thought that we had never let life get in the way of the connection that ran so deeply like a current between us.

This richness comes with deep regret. Regret for the time wasted minding the store of my business instead of cultivating my friendships. I can only imagine how many business owners out there are doing the same thing right now. Working late into exhaustion and neglecting the bounty of their friendships. Working unorganized and missing out of the wealth within their own families. All of my business owners will now be instructed to add a dose of richness to ‘their time’. Because I see now that without the richness, there are no riches. Without the richness, there will never be any deep satisfaction or true feeling of success.

How can we be truly satisfied if we don’t taste and savor the richness of our relationships down to our toes? How can we be truly successful if we don’t treasure this opulence?