I had a meeting today in a part of town I hadn’t driven to in a very long time. Sitting at the stop light near my appointment I realized my stomach was in knots and I was breathing oddly. My visceral reaction to where I was had nothing to do with my upcoming appointment and everything to do with where I was. It had everything to do with being next door to a ‘big’ that I had thought was long since behind me.
Most small business owner’s dream of getting big and bigger; more sales, more employees, more overhead, more locations and more income. More and more. Dreaming is great. We all need to dream and visualize and have a concrete plan for the future. Unfortunately, many business owners dream and do and fly by the seat of their pants not realizing what may come with getting bigger. Where is the bigger plan? The bigger road map? The bigger energy? The bigger story?
My company got big. Really big. And while it did, I just flowed with the bigness of the day to day. While I saw a future, I didn’t take the time to put a road map on paper. I said over and over again that I could handle everything that came my way. As you now know, I owned a very large corporate catering company in Austin, Texas. My first kitchen was the ideal. Great size, perfect location, a layout that couldn’t be beat and an amazing atmosphere. This kitchen was stuffed to the gills and in hindsight, it was perfection and I should have never left it. But I got a whiff of BIG. A smell of ‘what if’ and before I knew it, I was jumping. No plan. No agenda. Just straight off the cliff. My ideal kitchen was 1400 square feet and before you could say, ‘fool’, I was building a 3600 square foot kitchen facility mid-town in a mall undergoing revitalization as a corporate facility. It was a stunning place with new and beautiful equipment, a beautiful conference/meeting room and a fresh clean big atmosphere. It was a dream to work out of even if it was out of the way and far away.
Before the story ends, I got even bigger and ultimately lost everything. The story is long and tough to hear but rewards with a happy ending.
One of the essential ingredients for any business is the plan. We can talk about ‘your’ time, what your dollars look like and which relationships you need to keep, but before the bottom line you must have a plan. It is great to have a vision and to believe that the universe will provide. But before the story ends, there needs to be a chart, a graph and drawing of the future.
My meeting went very well this morning and afterwards I drove slowly by the mall where my big kitchen used to be. I was amazingly calm as I accessed the face lift the place had gone through in the years since I had last been there. My back door was still there with its welcoming window and green awning. No signage so I couldn’t satisfy my curiosity over who was in ‘my’ beautiful space. All these years later, I have a sense of closure that I didn’t know I needed. I drove away with a satisfying sense of calm over the fact that I made it through my ‘big’, intact with plenty of lessons learned.
Do you have a road map to your BIG?
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Stamina and Guts-Straight From the CIA?
I don’t dig my birthday. I could tell you all the reasons why but that is not the point of this story. I just need to tell you that my parents call me every year on my birthday. It is usually the only day of the year that I talk to my Mother. I do talk to my Dad a little more than that-his birthday, Christmas and Father’s Day usually. Last week on my ‘lucky’ day, when they called to sing Happy Birthday, I happened to be driving and answered the phone. They sang together and then we actually chatted for 10 minutes or so. They asked after my children which is a very big deal and asked after my book, also a very big deal. After we hung up, I had plenty of windshield time to contemplate our communication; plenty of time to think about how my parents, my Dad especially, affected my professional life.
This past weekend Lou and I went to the IMAX Theater to see ‘Hubble’ in 3D. Settling into our seats, my thoughts went straight back to my Dad and the still fresh birthday conversation. My Dad is an amazing man. He was deeply educated at MIT and holds many patents, namely for the gyroscope. He founded Sperry Gyroscope and we found out just a few years ago, he was recruited by the CIA during his Sperry days and spent the rest of his career with them working in an extremely high level and highly secretive position. His professional career is still kept very tight lipped. Every now and then one of my siblings will hear a story and pass it on. We discuss in amazement and wonder. My Dad is somewhere beyond brilliant. He is the one who taught me determination and guts. From him I learned stamina and intestinal fortitude. I remember asking him once how he got up and made it to work every single day when I knew there were days when he probably needed to just hide. How he could get on that airplane and prepare to be gone from his family for an extended period of time. He told me that he did what he needed to do. I have said that same phrase myself many, many times over the years.
The ‘Hubble’ documentary was rather fascinating and I mentioned to Lou afterwards how I couldn’t help but have my Dad and his space involvement on my mind. One year on my birthday, my parents didn’t call. During this time we were lead to believe that Dad was designing payloads for the Space Shuttle, working for NASA. I wasn’t too worried about them not calling because there was a shuttle currently in space and I figured he was covered up with the mission. The shuttle was having trouble getting back to ground needing to finish a project and wait for weather to clear. Still a week after my birthday and no call, no news. Instead in the mail from Dad is a one page piece of paper with a New York times article taped to it. The article and picture are talking about how much, W. G. McArthur, my Dad, enjoyed his shuttle trip and his exciting first space walk. In my Dad’s barely legible handwriting on the same paper is a note: What a great ride. Can’t wait to tell you all about it. –Dad
No wonder he didn’t call on my birthday! My Dad was on the freaking space shuttle orbiting the earth and strolling in no man’s land! I called my parent’s house in Aspen, no answer. I called their house in California, left a message. I flipped that he didn’t tell any of us so that we could be watching him this whole time. I flipped because my kids could have been talking about Grandpa being in space at school! I called my siblings-all who received the same ‘letter’ and we were all flipping.
At this time we had no idea that our Dad was enmeshed in the CIA and could keep a secret better than anyone as obviously his whole life was a secret. He waited days and then finally called us one at a time. He wasn’t on the shuttle; he was ‘just’ in the control room. It was a total coincidence that one of the shuttle astronauts had his same exact name. Apparently they joked constantly, my Dad in the control room and his clone in space living out my Dad’s dream of being an astronaut.
So here I am many years later, celebrating yet another birthday and thinking about my Dad and his example of high-test life and career dedication. There are plenty of stories surrounding my Dad. How he ended up at MIT instead of honoring Canada’s request that he be on their Olympic Team, both summer and winter. How he accepted his job with the CIA. How he fostered determination and grit in his five wildly self-sufficient children. How his work ethic is evident in all of us. His story just may need to be told.
May you have a ‘Dad’ in your life to set the example of doing it and getting it done when you least want to. The example of being brilliant in what you do because that is what you have chosen. That you can take everything you learn and funnel it into being an entrepreneur who isn’t afraid to take risks and perform under pressure. May you take control of your business and learn from all the examples of success in your path.
I think this may have been a good birthday. Recipies From A Life: Essential Ingredients for Your Business Success. I may owe it to my Dad.
This past weekend Lou and I went to the IMAX Theater to see ‘Hubble’ in 3D. Settling into our seats, my thoughts went straight back to my Dad and the still fresh birthday conversation. My Dad is an amazing man. He was deeply educated at MIT and holds many patents, namely for the gyroscope. He founded Sperry Gyroscope and we found out just a few years ago, he was recruited by the CIA during his Sperry days and spent the rest of his career with them working in an extremely high level and highly secretive position. His professional career is still kept very tight lipped. Every now and then one of my siblings will hear a story and pass it on. We discuss in amazement and wonder. My Dad is somewhere beyond brilliant. He is the one who taught me determination and guts. From him I learned stamina and intestinal fortitude. I remember asking him once how he got up and made it to work every single day when I knew there were days when he probably needed to just hide. How he could get on that airplane and prepare to be gone from his family for an extended period of time. He told me that he did what he needed to do. I have said that same phrase myself many, many times over the years.
The ‘Hubble’ documentary was rather fascinating and I mentioned to Lou afterwards how I couldn’t help but have my Dad and his space involvement on my mind. One year on my birthday, my parents didn’t call. During this time we were lead to believe that Dad was designing payloads for the Space Shuttle, working for NASA. I wasn’t too worried about them not calling because there was a shuttle currently in space and I figured he was covered up with the mission. The shuttle was having trouble getting back to ground needing to finish a project and wait for weather to clear. Still a week after my birthday and no call, no news. Instead in the mail from Dad is a one page piece of paper with a New York times article taped to it. The article and picture are talking about how much, W. G. McArthur, my Dad, enjoyed his shuttle trip and his exciting first space walk. In my Dad’s barely legible handwriting on the same paper is a note: What a great ride. Can’t wait to tell you all about it. –Dad
No wonder he didn’t call on my birthday! My Dad was on the freaking space shuttle orbiting the earth and strolling in no man’s land! I called my parent’s house in Aspen, no answer. I called their house in California, left a message. I flipped that he didn’t tell any of us so that we could be watching him this whole time. I flipped because my kids could have been talking about Grandpa being in space at school! I called my siblings-all who received the same ‘letter’ and we were all flipping.
At this time we had no idea that our Dad was enmeshed in the CIA and could keep a secret better than anyone as obviously his whole life was a secret. He waited days and then finally called us one at a time. He wasn’t on the shuttle; he was ‘just’ in the control room. It was a total coincidence that one of the shuttle astronauts had his same exact name. Apparently they joked constantly, my Dad in the control room and his clone in space living out my Dad’s dream of being an astronaut.
So here I am many years later, celebrating yet another birthday and thinking about my Dad and his example of high-test life and career dedication. There are plenty of stories surrounding my Dad. How he ended up at MIT instead of honoring Canada’s request that he be on their Olympic Team, both summer and winter. How he accepted his job with the CIA. How he fostered determination and grit in his five wildly self-sufficient children. How his work ethic is evident in all of us. His story just may need to be told.
May you have a ‘Dad’ in your life to set the example of doing it and getting it done when you least want to. The example of being brilliant in what you do because that is what you have chosen. That you can take everything you learn and funnel it into being an entrepreneur who isn’t afraid to take risks and perform under pressure. May you take control of your business and learn from all the examples of success in your path.
I think this may have been a good birthday. Recipies From A Life: Essential Ingredients for Your Business Success. I may owe it to my Dad.
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Small Hotel Today-Hotel With A View, Tomorrow!
I find myself hiding away in a small cramped hotel room in hot and humid Houston. Lacking my GPS, I really have no idea where I am. This is a good thing. I have a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach as I wrap up my work day and hunker down to spend time concentrating on the last edits I will be able to make to the book. This feeling is definitely a new one. Not good. Not bad. If I stop to think about it I am directed to the power of my own intention. The intention I had to write my story and to help as many small business owners who would possibly listen to what they can do to fulfill their dream of real success.
Recipes From A Life is a reality. That is the feeling in the pit of my stomach. This is really happening. Despite the odds. In spite of the people who told me I couldn’t do it or would probably never really do it, I am really going to be one of the 2% who actually publish a book.
I’ve been dreaming about ‘my’ flock; about the people that I am going to be able to help. Dreaming about the weight I am going to take off of their shoulders. Dreaming about the power I am going to help them realize. I am going to tell people that they can indeed enjoy their business and that running it doesn’t need to be a 24/7 exhausting mess. I am going to be able to tell entrepreneurs far and wide what they need to do to run their business in a manner that will work for them and show them how to do it. I am going to teach them how to manage their business from the inside out so that they can enjoy all the other aspects of their lives that are important to them.
I was lucky enough to speak to an association in Corpus last week. Only about 100 people but each one of them was fabulous. It was a very engaging ‘speech’ on the differences between managing and leading and I had a great time. The group was interactive, the best kind and what I wish for as a speaker. Afterwards, the leader gave me a gift and more than one participant wanted to take their picture with me. I am not a picture taker and was quite uncomfortable. In thinking about this event later as I thanked God for the opportunity, I realized something. They wanted to take my picture because I made an impression. I offered a nugget of information that they wanted to remember with a photo. Wow.
I promise myself that I am going to spend more time hiding away in small hotel rooms enjoying the process of this book journey. I promise to enjoy and savor every moment until its birth in just a few months. Then I am going to sign copies and speak. Sign more copies and speak some more. I am going to tend to the flock with everything I have in me and then some. Then when it is all said and done, I am going to escape to bigger and more wonderful hotel rooms in fabulous faraway places!
Recipes From A Life: Essential Ingredients for Your Small Business
Recipes From A Life is a reality. That is the feeling in the pit of my stomach. This is really happening. Despite the odds. In spite of the people who told me I couldn’t do it or would probably never really do it, I am really going to be one of the 2% who actually publish a book.
I’ve been dreaming about ‘my’ flock; about the people that I am going to be able to help. Dreaming about the weight I am going to take off of their shoulders. Dreaming about the power I am going to help them realize. I am going to tell people that they can indeed enjoy their business and that running it doesn’t need to be a 24/7 exhausting mess. I am going to be able to tell entrepreneurs far and wide what they need to do to run their business in a manner that will work for them and show them how to do it. I am going to teach them how to manage their business from the inside out so that they can enjoy all the other aspects of their lives that are important to them.
I was lucky enough to speak to an association in Corpus last week. Only about 100 people but each one of them was fabulous. It was a very engaging ‘speech’ on the differences between managing and leading and I had a great time. The group was interactive, the best kind and what I wish for as a speaker. Afterwards, the leader gave me a gift and more than one participant wanted to take their picture with me. I am not a picture taker and was quite uncomfortable. In thinking about this event later as I thanked God for the opportunity, I realized something. They wanted to take my picture because I made an impression. I offered a nugget of information that they wanted to remember with a photo. Wow.
I promise myself that I am going to spend more time hiding away in small hotel rooms enjoying the process of this book journey. I promise to enjoy and savor every moment until its birth in just a few months. Then I am going to sign copies and speak. Sign more copies and speak some more. I am going to tend to the flock with everything I have in me and then some. Then when it is all said and done, I am going to escape to bigger and more wonderful hotel rooms in fabulous faraway places!
Recipes From A Life: Essential Ingredients for Your Small Business
Sunday, September 26, 2010
The Power in a Mani/Pedi
I managed to disappear into a manicure and a pedicure yesterday. Middle of a Saturday afternoon, after a long and satisfying workout, I decided that I needed to not only treat myself but that I needed to be quiet. No phone, no computer, no one in the chairs next to me. It was only me and the little girl who has been massaging and beautifying my feet for years now. While she knows me and my daughter by name, she doesn’t make, encourage or force conversation. I am allowed to disappear into whatever my mind chooses. My own kind of mediation.
Of course my thoughts started with the list of errands I needed to finish before I started another hectic work week on the road. Workout, dry cleaning, box to the Goodwill from the trunk because it was in my suitcase space, grocery store, gas… I realized that I can run these errands without thought or concentration because I have been going to the same places to satisfy the same needs for many years. Dan at Foundation for my car, Adam at the dry cleaner, Julie for my nails, Zona at the Dr’s office... In my quiet, I realized more deeply than ever that I have an amazing personal group of supporting businesses that I both trust and adore.
Week Seven in the book is all about the supporting people and businesses that your business needs to be connected to in order to be ultimately successful. Now, only as I contemplate moving across this country, alone, did the power of my own personal connections dawn on me. I can drive to Church without thinking, park in the same area and sit in the same seat as I have for years. I know my Whole Foods and Sprouts like the back of my hands. I find it interesting that while I know how powerful business connections must be, I would only now be impacted by the power of our personal ‘business’ connections. I am saddened to think that I may have taken them for granted.
Not too long ago, I started a mission to hand write a thank you note every day. Some days I miss and some days I write several. I love snail mail and sending post cards when I am on vacation is one of my very favorite things to do. I love showing gratitude and want to show appreciation as much as I can. I am going to challenge myself to write a thank you note this week to everyone on my personal support team. I challenge you to do the same.
Next set of edits on the book are due this week and I am quite ready to immerse myself back into rewording, rewiting and rethinking my original thoughts and words. I am excited to read Editor Emily’s notes and play with her revisions. It will also be interesting for me to reread Week Seven now that I have this new perspective. Business and personal connections=professional and personal success.
Want to keep updated on book progress? Annmarie is now on Facebook.
Of course my thoughts started with the list of errands I needed to finish before I started another hectic work week on the road. Workout, dry cleaning, box to the Goodwill from the trunk because it was in my suitcase space, grocery store, gas… I realized that I can run these errands without thought or concentration because I have been going to the same places to satisfy the same needs for many years. Dan at Foundation for my car, Adam at the dry cleaner, Julie for my nails, Zona at the Dr’s office... In my quiet, I realized more deeply than ever that I have an amazing personal group of supporting businesses that I both trust and adore.
Week Seven in the book is all about the supporting people and businesses that your business needs to be connected to in order to be ultimately successful. Now, only as I contemplate moving across this country, alone, did the power of my own personal connections dawn on me. I can drive to Church without thinking, park in the same area and sit in the same seat as I have for years. I know my Whole Foods and Sprouts like the back of my hands. I find it interesting that while I know how powerful business connections must be, I would only now be impacted by the power of our personal ‘business’ connections. I am saddened to think that I may have taken them for granted.
Not too long ago, I started a mission to hand write a thank you note every day. Some days I miss and some days I write several. I love snail mail and sending post cards when I am on vacation is one of my very favorite things to do. I love showing gratitude and want to show appreciation as much as I can. I am going to challenge myself to write a thank you note this week to everyone on my personal support team. I challenge you to do the same.
Next set of edits on the book are due this week and I am quite ready to immerse myself back into rewording, rewiting and rethinking my original thoughts and words. I am excited to read Editor Emily’s notes and play with her revisions. It will also be interesting for me to reread Week Seven now that I have this new perspective. Business and personal connections=professional and personal success.
Want to keep updated on book progress? Annmarie is now on Facebook.
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Don't Leave Home Without Them-Clean Drawers
We will always remember where we were on 9/11. Always. For me, it was one of those typical days when I went into work early, 3: am. I still owned my corporate catering company then and we had breakfasts to deliver and plenty of lucrative lunch business. It was going to be a great day. I was addicted to National Public Radio in the morning, still am. Early, early they broadcast from the BBC. Early morning, still dark outside, money making business on the books and National Public Radio. I remember that feeling of how life just doesn’t get much better.
Rudy, my best driver, was out delivering breakfasts when news of the twin towers stated coming across the radio. When Rudy was finally able to call in, he was setting up breakfast in a conference room that had a TV tuned into CNN. He was rooted to the floor. Immobile. As was I. As were we all. Obviously, sadly as a nation we made it through the day as dreadfully terrifying as it was. That day wasn’t the whole story for me though. It was that night and the morning that followed.
My children were full of questions that evening, just as everyone’s children were. I answered their questions as best I could with what little information I had and with all the words God could put in my mouth. I remember we stayed up late no matter how hard we tried to follow our usual routine. With Lia and Casey finally settled, I myself made it to bed about midnight. I laid my XL nightshirt carefully at the foot of the bed along with my cozy house slippers and fell dead asleep in one of my simple white cotton nightgowns. My internal alarm went off, per usual, at 3: am. I slid out of bed, put the nightshirt on over the nightgown, stepped into my house shoes and slipped so very silently out the front door and into my car. Without turning the headlights on, I pulled out of the driveway and headed to the kitchen. This was my normal routine, slipping out of the house in the dead of night without waking up my children. I’d go the kitchen and get work done, in my nightgown and nightshirt until the sun started coming up. Then I would head home get dressed, feed my kids and get them off to school.
Did I feel like the guilty Momma for leaving my kids in the morning? Absolutely! Yet, I had no choice. The kitchen needed tending and many a morning over all the years, I completed more work between 3: and 7: am than I did the rest of the day. I was a single Mom doing what I needed to do to provide.
In the wee morning hours of 9/12, I slipped quietly out for the mile drive to my kitchen. Haven’t brushed my teeth and not wearing drawers. I pulled out of the neighborhood onto the main street where the kitchen was located and was immediately greeted with flashing blue and red lights, fire trucks and police cars. Emergency vehicles end to end in front of the group of buildings where my business was! The street was blocked off and I am close to hyperventilating as I crept up towards the first police car. I was waived out of my car so I could speak. Yes, in the nightgown, covered with the nightshirt, hair pebbles style on top of my head in the big clip and rotten morning breath. I tell Mr. Policeman that my business is in there and I need to get in as the panic bubbles up from my gut. Turns out there is a fire at the other end of my building and I need permission from Command Central down the street in order to enter the parking lot and get to my business to see if there is any damage. So here I am at 3: something in the morning, walking down the main street in my house shoes and no underwear to get permission to get into my business.
I did get in and I didn’t have any damage. Praise God. I don’t remember crying. I just brushed by teeth, arranged my hair back on top of my head and got to work. Apparently the business at the other end of my building was owned by a group of Muslims. The security cameras showed that they set fire to their own business in an effort to burn it down and blame it on a 9/11 hate crime. Bad scene. Bad people. Bad damage. Bad day to not be wearing underwear.
I was born in Manhattan and remember the towers well. They are part of the fabric that is me. My Lia and I had a theatre trip planned to Manhattan in the spring after 9/11. Even though we were encouraged to cancel it, that was simply not an option. We visited Ground Zero where the air was silent and respectful. There were still working cranes standing tall in the hole and debris hanging from the tress. The buildings next to the tower’s hole were still covered with burnt windows and charred concrete. Some of my closest relatives came to join us and we took the ferry out to Lady Liberty and Ellis Island. My grandfather came through Ellis Island so many years ago and I still remember taking the stairs to Lady Liberty’s crown when I was little. You can’t go up inside of her anymore, sadly she’s closed. The view from the top of her head is unbelievable. Like you can see the whole USA!
My Cousin Joe and I stood at the ferry railing looking back at the Manhattan skyline, minus the twin towers. It was a powerful moment as we remembered doing this exact thing so many, many years before when the towers were standing so strong and larger than life. The skyline was sadly empty. It hurts to think that my children will never see them and that the Manhattan skyline has been forever altered.
Our theater trip was perfect and New York City was as clean and welcoming as ever. Returning home, I never again went to work in my nightgown and nightshirt. I never again went to work without brushing my teeth, brushing my hair and making sure I was fully dressed.
I pray for all the people today who lost loved ones in the Twin Towers and for all those affected personally by the dreadful events of 9/11 so many years ago. I pray for them peace and healing.
Rudy, my best driver, was out delivering breakfasts when news of the twin towers stated coming across the radio. When Rudy was finally able to call in, he was setting up breakfast in a conference room that had a TV tuned into CNN. He was rooted to the floor. Immobile. As was I. As were we all. Obviously, sadly as a nation we made it through the day as dreadfully terrifying as it was. That day wasn’t the whole story for me though. It was that night and the morning that followed.
My children were full of questions that evening, just as everyone’s children were. I answered their questions as best I could with what little information I had and with all the words God could put in my mouth. I remember we stayed up late no matter how hard we tried to follow our usual routine. With Lia and Casey finally settled, I myself made it to bed about midnight. I laid my XL nightshirt carefully at the foot of the bed along with my cozy house slippers and fell dead asleep in one of my simple white cotton nightgowns. My internal alarm went off, per usual, at 3: am. I slid out of bed, put the nightshirt on over the nightgown, stepped into my house shoes and slipped so very silently out the front door and into my car. Without turning the headlights on, I pulled out of the driveway and headed to the kitchen. This was my normal routine, slipping out of the house in the dead of night without waking up my children. I’d go the kitchen and get work done, in my nightgown and nightshirt until the sun started coming up. Then I would head home get dressed, feed my kids and get them off to school.
Did I feel like the guilty Momma for leaving my kids in the morning? Absolutely! Yet, I had no choice. The kitchen needed tending and many a morning over all the years, I completed more work between 3: and 7: am than I did the rest of the day. I was a single Mom doing what I needed to do to provide.
In the wee morning hours of 9/12, I slipped quietly out for the mile drive to my kitchen. Haven’t brushed my teeth and not wearing drawers. I pulled out of the neighborhood onto the main street where the kitchen was located and was immediately greeted with flashing blue and red lights, fire trucks and police cars. Emergency vehicles end to end in front of the group of buildings where my business was! The street was blocked off and I am close to hyperventilating as I crept up towards the first police car. I was waived out of my car so I could speak. Yes, in the nightgown, covered with the nightshirt, hair pebbles style on top of my head in the big clip and rotten morning breath. I tell Mr. Policeman that my business is in there and I need to get in as the panic bubbles up from my gut. Turns out there is a fire at the other end of my building and I need permission from Command Central down the street in order to enter the parking lot and get to my business to see if there is any damage. So here I am at 3: something in the morning, walking down the main street in my house shoes and no underwear to get permission to get into my business.
I did get in and I didn’t have any damage. Praise God. I don’t remember crying. I just brushed by teeth, arranged my hair back on top of my head and got to work. Apparently the business at the other end of my building was owned by a group of Muslims. The security cameras showed that they set fire to their own business in an effort to burn it down and blame it on a 9/11 hate crime. Bad scene. Bad people. Bad damage. Bad day to not be wearing underwear.
I was born in Manhattan and remember the towers well. They are part of the fabric that is me. My Lia and I had a theatre trip planned to Manhattan in the spring after 9/11. Even though we were encouraged to cancel it, that was simply not an option. We visited Ground Zero where the air was silent and respectful. There were still working cranes standing tall in the hole and debris hanging from the tress. The buildings next to the tower’s hole were still covered with burnt windows and charred concrete. Some of my closest relatives came to join us and we took the ferry out to Lady Liberty and Ellis Island. My grandfather came through Ellis Island so many years ago and I still remember taking the stairs to Lady Liberty’s crown when I was little. You can’t go up inside of her anymore, sadly she’s closed. The view from the top of her head is unbelievable. Like you can see the whole USA!
My Cousin Joe and I stood at the ferry railing looking back at the Manhattan skyline, minus the twin towers. It was a powerful moment as we remembered doing this exact thing so many, many years before when the towers were standing so strong and larger than life. The skyline was sadly empty. It hurts to think that my children will never see them and that the Manhattan skyline has been forever altered.
Our theater trip was perfect and New York City was as clean and welcoming as ever. Returning home, I never again went to work in my nightgown and nightshirt. I never again went to work without brushing my teeth, brushing my hair and making sure I was fully dressed.
I pray for all the people today who lost loved ones in the Twin Towers and for all those affected personally by the dreadful events of 9/11 so many years ago. I pray for them peace and healing.
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.
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?
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?
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