Brutally Honest (holding my breath with this one)

I wrote about expectations a few days ago. We all have experienced poor customer service because of unmet expectations! Deliver on my expectations and I am satisfied (but only), fail to meet my expectations and I am pissed (and will tell everyone how you failed over and over again) and if you happen to exceed my expectations, I will sing your praises until the cows come home (Canlis, Au Pied de Cochon). I may be wrong, but I think this is just human nature. These concepts around customer service is what we are trying to instil in our team at Transcend; exceed customer’s expectations and we win! I point to companies like Apple, Virgin Airlines and Mortons, as all of these organizations are famous for exceeding patron expectations and as a result garnering rabid customer loyalty. We all love to be treated well, to be known, to feel connected, to feel like we are included and belong, even with businesses we engage with.

Brené talks a lot about those who are wholehearted. Those subjects (research subjects) who have this innate sense that they are worthy of love and belonging. After reading Daring Greatly, I actually thought of myself as one of those people (confident of their innate worthiness of love and belonging). Oddly, after reading Rising Strong, I realized that I am actually not one of those people who inherently believe that they are worthy of love and belonging (I was lying to myself). I have another blog post in the cue about that, later.

Getting back to expectations. I realize that I am poor at communicating them. I rarely communicate them, maybe because I haven’t taken the time to figure out for myself what those expectations even are, and perhaps because articulating expectations is an act of vulnerability. With that said, I have started thinking about what my expectations are going forward when it comes to the notion of friendship. For those of you who (Still) count me as a friend, I apologize in advance.

I realize that I am disappointed largely because of my unspoken expectations in and around friendship. And yet I know that the people in my life cannot meet my expectations if I never communicate them. Even having to think about what my needs are in relationships is venturing into foreign territory for me. The process of communicating expectations requires courage (obviously something that I lack) to suffer discomfort and perhaps more risky, having my expressed needs rejected. So instead of taking that risk, I have in the past, mostly opted for the thing which is fast and easy, namely suppress, quell and ignore my needs and expectations, and then live frustrated in the reality that my relationships don’t measure up (circular and self defeating reasoning, I know!).

As I journey through all of this, I am beginning to realize that the lack of mutual connection in my life, is a source of pain. As I critically evaluate many of my friendships, I am finding that I have to admit that I am the often the instigator when it comes to facilitating connection. I enjoy hosting people, enjoy cooking for people, enjoy throwing a party (smaller lately). While all of this is true, what I am also starting to realize is that being the one to initiate these connections most of the time makes me wonder about the actual strength of my relationships. I get that that sounds shitty, TRUE, but I am trying to be more honest and vulnerable.

As I begin to attach words to long held feelings of unworthiness, I am asking myself why it is that I initiate text conversations at a ratio of 10:1? Probably because I crave connection? The same goes for hosting people for dinner. But at the risk of being considered petty, I am starting to realize that if I don’t initiate contact with many friends, it rarely seems to happen. Assuming that all of my friends are doing the best that they can, I have to assume that everyone is busy, everyone has a lot on their plate, and that life swallows up time and opportunity to connect. Yet, with that said, I also have to acknowledge that upon reflection, it doesn’t feel very good knowing that without my initiative (on the whole) my life perhaps would be largely devoid of meaningful connection. This realization is definitely an area of shame in my life, and one that I want a reckoning from.

So if I have to articulate my needs and expectations in and around friendship, I have to say that I have a need for greater mutuality when it comes to connection. How can friends be vulnerable with each other if there isn’t an opportunity to connect and build relationships of trust? If we are all too busy to connect, the chance of meaningful conversation built upon mutual vulnerability will likely never exist. Perhaps this is the reality of the world we now live in? And while the mad scramble of life seemingly takes no prisoners; I don’t have to like this reality that I find myself part of.

I realize that what I am writing is probably going to be perceived as being shitty. I realize that this may possibly result in less dinner invitations being accepted. But in truth, this is not my intention. My intention with this post (albeit raw) is to be brutally honest, and truly vulnerable about how I feel. As someone deeply committed to the notion of community, one of the things I long for is authentic connection. I also realize that many people in my life aren’t in the same place I am, aren’t in the same stage in life or career. I am aware that I am afforded a rarefied luxury of flexibility and freedom in my day-to-day life, and I think that this freedom perhaps, is in part to blame, because I have time to connect when most everyone else in my life is busy with work and family.

Me writing this, doesn't diminish my affection for my friends, on the contrary. Me writing this doesn’t negate my desire to host dinners, fires, or get-togethers. But having said all of that, what it does articulate is a deep desire to know that I am worthy of love and belonging and that my friendships aren’t simply a byproduct of my own creation, a product of my constant persistence (a polite but persistent nagging) and people simply giving way. Sounds a bit like junior high, I know, but this is where I am at; forty-nine years in the making.

Badassery (redefined)

For almost all of my life, I have respected the idea of a badass. Someone who lives on their own terms, lives without fear, perhaps even lives dangerously. Maybe it is a byproduct of growing up on a farm (of sorts), or at least growing up in the country, where we just did things without giving much thought to the consequences. Jumping motorbikes and snowmobiles over fences, pushing the limits with equipment, basically thumbing our noses at danger. Truth be told, I am still a bit too much like that (everyone at Transcend Coffee thinks of me as a cowboy, doing things that the average person wouldn’t even consider). I am not trying to be reckless, but I think it is a bit hard wired into me, from my time growing up - that you just get er’ done, safety be damned.

So working through Brené Brown’s definition of a badass (or badassery) has been a bit of an adjustment, and upon reflection, her notion of being a badass is growing on me. I like that she flips the notion on its head, and rather than celebrating the reckless, cowboy, safety be damned approach to life, that I grew up admiring, she celebrates the one who has the courage to be vulnerable. She writes

To me the real badass is the person who says, “Our family is really hurting. We could use your support.” And the man who tells his son, “It’s okay to be sad. We all get sad. We just need to talk about it.” And the woman you says, “Our team dropped the ball. We need to stop blaming each other and have some tough conversations about what happened so we can fix it and move forward.”

I have found the response to this blog interesting. I never expected many people to read it, and frankly, I am surprised that as many people have taken time out of their busy lives to ingest it as have done. But even more surprising than the analytics, is the conversations I have been having here and there with people who want to encourage me with the project.

I have had a couple of very encouraging conversations in the last couple of days, not because of them celebrating this blog, but far more importantly, because we had honest, raw, emotion filled talks about the shit in our lives. The conversations were about suffering, emotions, regret, failure, anger, resentment, and disappointment. And while that might not sound like fodder for great conversation, I left both instances feeling refreshed, uplifted, because for the first time in a long time, I was having meaningful interaction with friends which transcended the day-to-day, the mundane, the weather.

This little quirky project of mine, a journey into living wholeheartedly, and then writing about it, has opened unexpected doors into not just my life, but the raw lives of others, and is enabling human connection, the thing I have been longing for.

I still have no idea what the hell I am doing, or how I will get to where I need to ultimately end up. I still need to find a good therapist (if you know of one, please pass there name along). I still need to ingest more learning (2nd time through Rising Strong on my walks with Charlie). I need to figure out how to lean in more and practice it. I need to quit reacting and making assumptions concerning unpleasant circumstances and start living in the knowledge that people are doing the best that they can. I need to start being more curious about my own reactions and emotions, hell I need to figure out how to name my emotions! You would think that someone who can taste and identify flavours like black currant and jasmine in coffee and wine would be better at identifying the physiological and psychological responses that my body has; so much work to do. But in the midst of it all I am moving forward, growing, and more importantly seeing the fruit of this journey into being more vulnerable (Julie, I think you might be proud of me?).

So, while I still give props to the somewhat reckless actions of my youth, and acknowledge the things in my life that exist because of misguided bravery, I am starting to grasp (albeit slowly) the true bravery required to live wholeheartedly, to live in the midst of courageous and difficult conversations. Now I just have to figure out if I can still be a cowboy and a badass at the same time? LOL.

Generosity and Expectations

We have been talking a lot at Transcend about expectations and customer service. Good customer service is very difficult to find in the market place, and I think that the biggest problem with this deficit is most of us have unmet expectations which leave us feeling cold. We have been talking about exceeding people’s expectations as a way to win at customer service, but that requires that you actually know what the expectations of your customers are, or alternatively help to set those expectations.

I think the same is true in life. I think that many of us live our lives without any real thought as to what our expectations are in life, and as a result, often find ourselves disappointed and frustrated.

I know that I fall into this pattern of living. It is easy to drift into the daily grind of getting up, doing work, catching a bit of TV, maybe if we are lucky a little exercise and then bed. The cycle continues day after day, until another month, year, perhaps a decade has passed, and we look back and wonder where the time has gone, and why we feel so disconnected.

I have never been good at setting goals. I tried once to outline a five year plan and it was a complete waste of time. I feel constrained by plans, goals, metrics. But I also know that I often find myself disappointed in life and I think that is because I have very rarely taken the time to understand and more importantly communicate what my expectations are to myself and those around me. I am not talking about being demanding, or pushy, but rather being clear about what is important to me, so that others know, and can assess whether they are up for being part of the journey, and can decide whether or not they can actually meet my expectations.

I know that I have always longed for meaningful community. I wrote a small blog post a while ago on this subject. Truthfully, I have never had that longing met. I talk about community, think about it, but I don’t think I have ever stopped to identify for myself what my expectations are in and around community. As a result, I am often disappointed and frustrated with any attempt to build or nurture community. True vulnerable mutual friendship is a rare thing in my life, and I am guessing in most people’s lives. We all are busy, we have more to do than time to do it, work and family consume most of our time leaving most of us sleep deprived and exhausted. When we do find time to get together with friends, it can often feel hollow and unsatisfying. I am beginning to wonder whether this is because we (I) have failed to define for ourselves and communicate our expectations, and as a result, have them left unmet.

The problem with communicating expectations is that it is scary, at least on a personal level. Being vulnerable and communicating our needs to others opens us up to rejection which in turn causes pain. So instead, I know that I mostly choose to live in a place of frustration, due to unspoken and unmet expectations. I would say this is true in my life, even with those closest to me. I have never sat down with my friends and articulated what I would like to see in terms of how our friendship might work. I have never had one friend sit me down and tell me what they expect of me either. So I am guessing that like me, they have experienced frustration and disappointment as well (some of which I am likely the author of).

I have always held generosity as a personal core value. I like to think of myself as a generous person. While I think that I can say that this is mostly true (I am not always generous) I can honestly say that I rarely establish boundaries around that generosity. The result of this is often disappointment and unmet expectations; feelings of being taken advantage of, always having to be the one who initiates….

Brené Brown talks about “living big” and poses this question: what boundaries do I need to put in place so I can work from a place of integrity and extend the most generous interpretations of the intentions, words, and actions of others?

She goes on to define integrity as the act of choosing courage over comfort; choosing what is right over what is fun, fast, or easy; and choosing to practice our values rather than simply professing them.

I know that the thought of communicating clear expectations is a daunting prospect. Even as I write this, my thoughts rush to the assumption that my heartfelt needs in friendship are likely unreasonable (if they weren’t why do they seem so unattainable). This thought pattern may be totally inaccurate, but up until now, I have rarely (perhaps never) had the courage to articulate my expectations even to those people closest to me. So rather than exercising courage, I have chosen the easy way out, but the easy way leads to frustration.

Brené suggests that we take a piece of paper, one inch by one inch and write down the name of everyone in our life that has earned the right to hear our deepest thoughts and feelings. She says if there are more names than can fit on that tiny piece of paper, we need to edit that list because we aren’t being honest with ourselves. My initial thought when she said this was wow, that is harsh. But is it? It seems ridiculous that I am approaching a half century on this planet, and for all of it, I find myself in (what must be very common) a place of solitude because of my own inability to be vulnerable with others. Years of wearing armour, upgrading that armour, to ensure that nothing gets through the cracks has led me here. And yet when I am honest with myself, I don’t want to be where I find myself, and worse, I don’t have a map to show me how to navigate to where I actually want to be….

More rumbling required.

Rumbling

Brené Brown talks a lot about the notion of rumbling, or wrestling with our stories. We all tell stories about our lives. I have been telling stories about my life, and most of those stories have a narrative where I own very little of the responsibility. I think wearing armour for most of my life has me making up stories to help me explain my sense of isolation, and my lack of community. I think that being a risk taker, doing it alone, not needing any help have all been part of my narrative. This narrative though is one born out of need to protect myself, and are not born out of a place of being vulnerable.

I am actually a pretty good story teller. I can hold court, so to speak, and when I get on a roll, people tend to engage. I actually believe that I can (to some extent) talk my ideas into reality, and perhaps that is true, I am actually not sure anymore. What I am learning is that these stories that we tell ourselves are often not accurate, and are instead the things we tell ourself to protect and deflect. Brown defines these protective stories as confabulations, or fictions told in earnest. So in other words, we tell ourselves lies, but actually believe our own lies, because we see them as true. I guess it is looking at my life through rose coloured glasses. Brown says

the goal of the rumble is to get honest about the stories we’re making up about our struggles, to revisit, challenge, and reality-check these narratives as we dig into topics such as boundaries, shame, blame, resentment, heartbreak, generosity, and forgiveness. Rumbling with these topics and moving from our first responses to a deeper understanding of our thoughts, feelings, and behaviours gives birth to key learnings about who we are and how we engage with others. The rumble is where wholeheartedness is cultivated and change begins.

I have been starting to look more closely at my Teflon coated life, my stories, and my bottled up emotions. To be honest, I don’t much like the squirmy process. I don’t like how it makes me feel, I don’t like the emotions and pain it is welling up. Frankly, I am not good at it; I am so much better at avoiding this stuff, not leaning into it. With that said, I know if I want to grow into a place where I can live more wholeheartedly, I need to give space for the rumble. Frankly I need to get some help with this (anyone know a good therapist) as already, it is self evident that I can’t do this on my own (ironically, that is one of the most powerful stories I tell myself, I can do it by myself). Admitting my need is a very vulnerable space for me, and it flies in the face of my narrative of being a generous person. My version of generosity is about giving, but my version rarely if ever receives.

I have lived with the narrative that it is better to give than to receive all of my life. I have lived with the narrative that we are not to let the right hand know what the left hand is doing (or in other words, you never talk about the good that you do). I think the problem with these stories that I tell, is that they inherently keep me from be honest about my own needs, my own expectations, and as a result I often live in a self made shadow of isolation and frustration. I blame others “I just am not into small talk”, or we don’t have anything to talk about, we just don’t connect. But I am learning that vulnerability is built on being curious, curious about one’s own fictional stories, and I think curious about what drives others. If looked at from that vantage point, we all have intense points of interconnection, where, if we are willing, we can practice being vulnerable, and perhaps in the process be heard, and understood just a little bit more?

To be honest, I don’t have any clarity or answers at this point, and that in itself frustrates me. So instead, I will take Dr. Brown’s advice and lean into the rumble for as long as it takes, continuing to struggle with my own made up stories, and trust that the process in and of itself will provide some reckoning..

Don't want him to be a wuss

When my son Andrew was born, I was overcome with emotion, one of the few times in my life, where I allowed myself to cry without restraint. It was an extraordinary event in my life…

Michelle and I had avoided having children for the first eight years of our marriage, as we had our sights on completing our education. We were married relatively young, I was twenty-three she was a year younger. We were still both attending the University of Lethbridge at the time.

Years later when we decided it was time to start a family we discovered that we were not naturally inclined towards procreation. I remember having a sperm test done, to determine if I was the culprit in our lack of success. I remember visiting the doctors office where I was secretly relieved as our odd practitioner (he always wore a Star Trek badge) informed me that “I could father nations”. At least I wasn't impotent. After that, we started the initial phases of fertility treatments and despite our efforts, we remained childless. After a couple of years we simply decided that having kids wasn’t in our future and we resigned ourselves to a future without children.

I can still remember the place and time that Michelle told me that she was pregnant. I was driving in a rental vehicle on my way back from the Stoney Reserve just west of Calgary. I was practicing Aboriginal Law for the firm Ackroyd and had been down attending a meeting with Chief and Counsel. I had just left Red Deer, and the phone rang. Michelle was on the line, obviously emotional about something. She blurted out that she had suspected for a while, but hadn’t been sure, but now she was, and couldn’t wait until I got back to Edmonton, to let me know that we were expecting. I don’t remember much about the rest of the drive home, as I was ecstatic.

The remaining months of the pregnancy were actually tumultuous. After visiting friends in St. Andrews, Scotland and our friends Mark and Ronenne in Cambridge on our first real vacation, I arrived home and back to work only to be met by the managing partner who let me know that I had until the end of the day to pack my office and vacate the building. The partners had met to discuss my future at the firm while I was on holidays and decided there wasn’t one.

Andrew was born on the 2nd of January, 2004 and we couldn’t have been more excited. It was bitterly cold that winter, and I remember bundling him up, as we brought him home from the hospital. Our journey as parents had officially begun and I didn’t have a clue what the hell to do with a new born.

Andrew was probably only two or three weeks old when Michelle caught me tossing him in the air and catching him. Now in my defence, I was being careful, and I wasn’t tossing him very high, but nonetheless, she was horrified. My response to the chastisement was that “I didn’t want him growing up to be a wuss”! Needless to say, my rational for my actions was met with disbelief and I promptly halted that misguided parenting behaviour.

Why tell this story? Fourteen years later, my kid is healthy, brave, and at times reckless. I doubt it has anything to do with being tossed in the air as a new born. But it may have something to do with my attitude and my perspective as a dad. You see, I think growing up constantly being bullied and put down, had burned into my psyche that fact that I was weak, and in my mind weakness was to be avoided at all costs. And the solution to being weak was to ensure that my son was going to grow up tough, so he could avoid the pain of being subject to ridicule and shame like his dad had experienced.

It all sounds crazy looking back on it, but reading Brené Brown’s books has me rethinking a lot of things, and I can see how so much of my parenting style has been influenced by what I experienced as a kid. I let Andrew do all kinds of questionable things as a youngster, like jumping off of a roof onto the trampoline (I am sure most of our friends think we are insane). Michelle gave up trying to override my tendency towards fostering Andrew’s recklessness a long time ago. Amazingly, and thankfully he has had little in the way of injury or scars to show for his bravery, and I am sure in part, he does a lot of those things to impress me, even though my encouragement is mostly subconscious.

The one thing that I haven’t encouraged in him (thankfully it isn’t too late) is to be vulnerable. In fact, I am sure that I have discouraged it most of the time. I have never been a fighter, but I have in the past encouraged him to be tough, and “stand up for himself” even to fight if necessary (there was a period of time when he was being bullied at school), a definite trigger for his old man.

It is such a cliche, but so true, that we men typically see vulnerability as weakness. We shouldn’t cry, show our emotions, or have too much empathy; it just isn’t manly. I am slowly discovering that this is all bullshit. That the emotions that well up in me as I watch a movie (sometimes even a commercial) are not a sign of weakness but that of being a healthy human. I know I have a long way to go in this regard, and frankly I am not sure how long it will take for me to allow myself the freedom to experience my emotions in their entirety. But what I do know is that I want to rectify my misguided approach to parenting before it is too late, and let my amazing kid know that vulnerability does not equate to weakness. That being a real man means embracing and owning our emotions, leaning into them, naming them, and working to understand them. Maybe, just like we are enjoying the process of developing our golf games together (he is already better than me) we can share the journey towards wholeheartedness together?! Hopefully then he will have a whole lifetime to live wholehearted, unlike his dad who is only just figuring it out with the last half his life already gone (turning 50 soon).

Frickin Coffee!!

I have been in coffee now for over twelve years. What is maddening to me, is that the price of coffee (c market) is virtually the same today as it was when I first started. I know all of the excuses that are flung about within the market; supply, demand, drought, speculation, too much rain, overproduction, etc. etc. And while all of these might explain in part the insane volatility in coffee, it does not excuse it.  

What the market volatility does not convey, is the devastation the broken coffee pricing model has on the people growing coffee all over the globe. What it doesn't convey is the greed and profits made by big coffee companies when the market does what it does.

I won't make this a long rant, but it needs to be said. The human toll that the ongoing volatility in the coffee market has is a travesty. I can sleep at night because Transcend does not participate in the c market pricing madness, but far too many companies do, and it simply needs to end. Producers are due, at a minimum, an ability to cover their costs of production and more than that, they are due a standard of living that reflects the amount of work that goes into growing coffee. Alas, I know that I am dreaming of an alternate universe where fairness and decency triumphs over profit and greed, but one can always dream.

If you want to be part of the solution, stop supporting coffee companies that perpetuate the existence of this global crisis. Start asking questions about transparency. Where does the coffee come from, how much did the farmers get paid, what was the FOB (free on board) price for the coffee you are selling? If your coffee provider can't answer these questions, it might be time to start shopping elsewhere. 

On Shame and Vulnerability

I listened to Brené Brown's book Daring Greatly over the past couple of days, I am now onto her book Rising Strong. My former psychologist suggested that I read Daring Greatly two years ago, which I brushed off at the time. Truthfully, had I listened to Julie back then, I might have more of a headstart on the personal work that needs doing now (I am not stubborn at all!). For those of you who aren't familiar with Brené's work, a great introduction to her research on shame and vulnerability can be found in her wildly successful TED talk. I like Brenê, and while I have never met her, I feel like I know her in part, because of how she communicates. I guess one of the benefits of listening to a book, vs reading a book, is that you get to hear the author read their work, which I think imbues it with more gravitas. I like the fact that she swears, she is real, she tells it like it is, and probably most importantly, she makes me squirm.

You might think it odd that I like that she makes me squirm, but in truth, I have always respected those who speak with clarity, who challenge me, who force me to look at myself. I don't suffer fools or small talk very well. I am someone who lives a lot in my own head, and I feels deeply, passionately most people say, but I rarely have a clue as to what I am feeling or how to name or process those emotions. I have worn Teflon most of my life, and for a long time, even was proud of that; I have been labelled a shit disturber, and a bull in a china shop and these are the kind descriptions.

What I am learning from Brown is that shame is a powerful thing, which impacts us early on, and has long-lasting impacts on how we live out our lives. As I have listened to Brené talk for well over twelve hours now, I am slowly realizing how many significant shaming events I endured as a young person. I was mercilessly ridiculed for having red hair (Howdy Doody red hair long before ginger was in style). I wore glasses starting in grade one, had big ears, and was completely awkward. I was punished by my grade one teacher for getting my work done too fast, was thrown down the stairs by bigger kids in grade two, picked up by my ears (literally) by my teacher in grade three for being a smart ass, and the list goes on. This bullying and shaming continued throughout my time in school, even until grade twelve where I was still mocked for my hair colour and appearance. When I look back on my grade twelve grad photo, even I am a bit shocked at how much I look like a complete cowboy nerd. I was so shy, so unsure of myself, so utterly lost. I was selected to travel to Ottawa in grade twelve as a participant in the Forum for Young Canadians. It was quite the honour, only four hundred kids from the entire country were selected, and there were thousands of applicants. I was so excited, and when I got there, that awkward, acneid, weird cowboy nerd was almost univerally rejected by the other attendees in my cohort. Frankly, I hated high school, and couldn't wait to get out of the small community that I grew up in. For as long as I could remember I felt like an outsider.

It wasn't until I spent a year in Denmark after graduating that I started to grow a little self- confidence. The year I spent in Europe after high school was cathartic. I got a chance for a new start, got a chance to be part of a new culture, a completely differnet social mileau. I left for Denmark an awkward cowboy, and came home one year later as abearded, pipe smoking, clog wearing european intellectual (my parents almost didn't recognize me when I came through the airport).

Yet upon entering university later that year, I remember that same lost feeling flooding back, as I  wandered through long hallways at the U of L in what seemed like an endless sea of people who wanted nothing to do with me. But it was in university that I decided (a forceful act of my will) that I was no longer going to be someone who lived on the peripherie, and I forced myself to move out of my protective shell and into what Brown calls the arena. I have made it my goal to live in that arena ever since.

Brené Brown's work leans heavily on a quote from President Theodore Roosevelt in a speech that he gave where he made this statement - 

It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.

I am someone who is pretty risk tolerant (perhaps an understatement) and I have generally thought of myself as someone who has life pretty well put together. Confidence has never been in short supply in my life, or at least that is the mask that I put on most days, the version of myself that most who know me get to see. I think, in retrospect, that my resolve to live in that arean (although I wouldn't have described it as such until recently) forced me to put myself in harms way. In univeristy I got myself elected as the President of the Students Union. In grad school, I got into a pissing match with my supervisor and in protest wrote the LSAT and applied to law school. Upon being accepted, I quit my MA program (despite my wife Michelle's protest) moved to Edmonton and started law school. While I enjoyed much of law school, I quickly discovered that law wasn't what I had envisioned. My articling year was another year of battling an extreme fear and shame culture, topped with a little corruption. 

Actually, looking back, I now see how even the training we receive in law school and in the practice of law, solidifies and galvinizes unhealthy communication practices, competitiveness, us vs them, argue to the death, bully, the list goes on.... and I now see how as part of this journey I am now on, I need to unlearn much of what I acquired during my legal training. 

While I have lived in the arena, for many years, and most recently in the last twelve years, starting and growing my own business, I am beginning to realize that I have done so, mostly with little or no awareness of my own emotional wellbeing throughout. I have had little awareness of how I have used shame, avoidance, and many other unhealthy mechanisms to get through it all. In short, I am beginning to see that despite all of my accomplishments, I have not been living in a very wholehearted manner. It is namely this deficit that I hope to figure out along the way.

Whether you want to read about my journey into wholeheartedness and vulnerabilty, and away from the crippling effects of shame is up to you. I would like to say that I don't care if anyone reads this (me wearing Teflon) but that is simply not true. But I am not writing this so that it will be read widely. But rather, I am writing this, because just like I think and process things verbally, on the fly (I argue with myself and others a lot), I also know that I process things more effectively when I write. Perhaps it is the creative process that Brown talks about, which has a healing effect, I am not completely sure? But what I am sure of is that when I put my thoughts down (on virtual paper) and then publish them, I have to own them, which makes them more real, more powerful; and thus, I will continue to write and publish my thoughts regardless of whether I have an audience in the process. Because at the end of the day, what I am after is transformation, a move towards vulnerability, leaning into the hard truths, so that I can be a better dad, a better husband, a better boss, a better friend, a better member of the human race.

An open letter to the Transcend team

Twelve years ago, I jumped off a cliff with no idea whether I would survive that jump. Obviously, I am speaking figuratively, but the danger (albeit non-life-threatening) was real nonetheless. I started Transcend Coffee with no experience, no plan, no money, no coffee, no customers, and no business sense. It might sound like an exaggeration, but it is not, I was clueless. What I had in abundance though was a tolerance for risk, a dream of building community, and a naive belief in my ability to scramble and muddle my way through almost anything.

I think this self-belief developed over time. Time as the University of Lethbridge SU president, too much time attending university, surviving law school and my year of articling, surviving my misguided practice of law, and then a stint as a consultant. All of these life experiences provided me with evidence (at least in my mind) that I could do anything I set my mind to. Twelve years later I am much wiser and self-aware - repeated failures will provide that kind of clarity. And while Transcend Coffee still survives, it does so not because of my brilliance or savvy business acumen but because of relationships that have developed over my career in coffee.

Take for example Greg Zeschuk (while not directly involved in the operations of Transcend) who has been instrumental in our company's endurance and success. Without his belief (at times misguided) in me, and a willingness to back that belief up with cash when needed, Transcend would have perished like so many other start-ups in bankruptcy. Without Greg's generosity towards me, I would have never had the opportunity to participate in what is now a successful community story (the Ritchie Market).

Twelve years has also offered me a gift that I never truly envisioned. While I was bent on building community, I am not sure that I actually knew what that would look like. Starting a company affords one the opportunity to discover one's deficits, of which I have many (you can confirm this with any of my friends or my wife). Thankfully, I was lucky enough to recognize this in time and brought into the fold someone who I believed could work with me to balance my many deficits. This man (Michael Harvey) took a risk and joined the Transcend family and has never looked back. His willingness to endure, grapple, get dirty, work long hard hours, has helped build Transcend into the success that it is now.

We still struggle as most companies do, with cash flow issues, and the myriad of other day-to-day issues that face all businesses. But what I am so thankful for at this juncture is the team and culture that Michael has helped assemble over the past few years.

You see, I am not much of an "atta boy" kind of boss. My default is not to pat people on the back and tell them how great a job they are doing. This is just one more of my many deficits; I Just read one of Brené Brown's books and am keenly aware of the work I need to do. With that said, I am keenly aware of the amazing culture that exists at Transcend right now. And while I can't say that I was the architect of this, I can definitely say that I had something like this in mind when I first started the company those many years ago.

Today I walked in on our senior team who were busy brainstorming about content for our website among other things. My initial reaction to walking in on this group was a sense of being left out, they were dreaming and planning things Transcend without me. But as quickly as that feeling swept over me, I was hit with another more powerful and positive one, that of pride, the kind of pride that I have when my kid does something amazing. Here was a talented group of people, who were dreaming and sharing in my crazy hair-brained scheme. 

So, upon more reflection during the rest of the day, I thought it only appropriate to write this little letter on my unread blog to tell them how proud I am of all of them, how much they mean to me, how the success of Transcend is not possible without them. Transcend Coffee is still a work in progress, but what is amazing to me, and what I am so very grateful for, is that I no longer am working on this project by my self (and in truth I never have been) but have an amazingly talented and passionate team of people who are not just colleagues but who are friends. Friends along for the journey into coffee.

Books I think you should read

I read a tonne, but realistically, most of my reading is online, threads, short reads. Having spent eleven years in university, where all I did was read books (most of which I didn't want to read) I don't read books very often any more. And to be transparent, these two books that I am recommending I have consumed via Audible which is my new favourite way to "read".

Trevor Noah's book Born A Crime was an excellent read. Not only did I learn a lot about the man and what makes him tick, I learned a lot about the history of South Africa, which was most shocking. I am a big fan of Trevor, and his book made me even a bigger one.

The other book I am currently in the middle of is Brené Brown's book The Power of Vulnerability which I am finding quite challenging. Brown is a great communicator and seems to have a knack for poking me in the areas of my life which probably need poking.

One of the best things about golf!

I know what many of you who are reading this are thinking.... really what good is there in a rich man's game where you chase little white (or neon green) balls around a manicured piece of land?

I actually do understand people's concerns with the game, and if it wasn't for the tremendous good the game does via the PGA (over US$ 2Billion) donated to charities, I would be less a fan. With that said I think this tremendously hard game is a great teacher of positive life skills. It teaches patience, honesty, sportsmanship, conversation, among a reim of other things.

For me, one of the best things about golf is that I get to hang out for hours at a time with my fourteen-year-old son Andrew. In the winter we hang out on ski hills, and I follow him down the mountain with a camera. Now in the summer, we spend time together whacking little white balls. It is a rare thing in this age, to have quality time with your teenager, and golf is the vehicle that I see facilitating this relationship for the rest of our lives.

So while golf may take up too much time, be too expensive, too exclusive, and a game for only the entitled, in my world it is the game which facilitates me spending quality time with a teenager, who already beats me at the game, which outwardly is frustrating, but inwardly makes me a proud dad! So while Mark Twain my have seen golf as a "good walk interupted" I see golf as "a life interupted" which in a world of screens and video games is an amazing thing.

Twenty-Six Years!

Twenty-six years ago today, in hot and dry Lethbridge Alberta, I married a young Michelle Herbig. The year (for those of you not close to a calculator) was 1992 and we were studying at the U of L. I was working part-time as the Assistant Manager of the Student Union's Pub, and Michelle was doing her usual thing of being an "A" student (she always did very well academically). We were young, idealistic, hopeful and in love. I think that we were probably not typical for our tender age, as we both had lived a bit already (I had spent a year in Denmark) and Michelle had travelled internationally as well. While we weren't naive and had plans for continuing our academic careers, we definitely lacked the wisdom that age offers up.

Fast forward to present day, and it all seems like a blur. I have a hard time comprehending where the last 9,490 days went?! (although I definitely remember the event that occurred 5,320 days ago, and am thankful every day for the joy that he brings into our lives). One thing that has changed since that life-changing day, is that we are no longer lacking in the supply of life earned wisdom. 

It is interesting to look back on our life together and see what might have been if we had ended up at the University of Victoria, we would likely be professors. If we hadn't ended up at the University of Calgary, Michelle would likely have less emotional scars and I would never have left in disgust for the Law program at the U of A. But then there would be no Transcend Coffee, and Michelle wouldn't have had the opportunity to affect change within the realm of Children's Services in Alberta.

With that said, upon reflection, today is a significant day. We didn't really celebrate or mark our 25th last year, as Michelle's health simply didn't accommodate that. One year later, things haven't really changed that much. OK, that is actually a misrepresentation. In the past year, we have bought two houses, renovated one, sold another, and moved into a new neighbourhood. But in relation to Michelle's health, things haven't changed, and as a family, we continue to struggle and endure as best as we can, trying to live in community and amongst family and friends despite the challenges. I think this is the thing that is most present in my mind today. My wife despite everything that has been thrown her way continues to endure, and actually, more than endure she stands defiantly against her ailments on behalf of her family. I know she doesn't feel like she is winning, but like in war, sometimes all you can do is hold the line, which is in and of itself a massive accomplishment. 

So on this day when we celebrate twenty-six years of life's journey together, I could list the multitude of attributes that my wife possesses, and list her many achievements, not the least of which is surviving the chaos that I am prone to create. Instead, I want to celebrate her toughness, her ability to endure agonizing and crippling pain and anxiety, her doggedness to continue to produce high-quality work product despite chronic migraines and clinical anxiety. In short, I want to tell the world (OK, LOL, tell the 25 people who will actually read this) how proud that I am of her, and how much I respect her for the way she has lived her life, especially these past few years! Happy Anniversary Babe!

Extreme Coffee Prices are not good for the industry

There has been a growing trend of late for unique one-off coffees to sell for extreme prices via online coffee auctions. For example, recently, at the Best of Panama 2018 online auction, coffees sold for as much as US$803 per pound. To put that price in perspective, using that coffee in the cafe, we would likely have to charge $150 per latte to justify the cost of goods for that green coffee. Most of these outrageous prices are being paid by Asian coffee companies, where one can presume that there is a market for these ridiculously expensive coffees. Even with the assumption that is indeed the case, that in Japan customers are prepared to pay those amounts for coffee, I still have a huge problem with the trend of outrageous prices for exotic coffees when the bulk of the coffee sold in the world, sell below the producers cost of production, and keep most coffee producers around the world in perpetual poverty.  

I think there has always been a fascination in the marketplac with high priced goods. I too have participated at times in this marketplace, albeit a wine market, where high prices are assumed to correlate to increasing quality. While this relationship between price and quality are often true, it cannot be said to be a universal truth, and expectations around price will definitely skew the consumer's perception of quality. Many experiments have been done in the wine world, where consumers were presented with the same wine, at different price points, and without exception those who were given a more expensive price point rate the wine a better quality than those who are told the wine is cheaper. So it is not the objective quality of the wine that is at play, but the consumer's perception of the quality based on the price they are told it costs.

Much like fad coffees such as Koppi Luak (the Indonesian coffee consumed by Civets) which achieve crazy prices, these extreme coffee prices only serve to skew the market towards the fadish and the fantastic and diminish the value of coffees that are excellent but still are priced far below their true value.

What I want to see in the marketplace is a consumer base that understands the value of great quality coffee and is willing to pay a fair market price for that coffee, so that vast majority of coffee producers on this planet can live sustainable lives. I would argue that almost every quality coffee shop in North America discounts and subsidizes the cost of coffee to the consumer out of fear that the consumer will not pay the price that the coffee should be sold for.

Unlike cafes in North America, I point to the prices charged for coffee in countries like Norway and Denmark as positive examples, not simply because the cost of living is high in these countries, but because coffee companies are not afraid to charge their customers for the true value of the product that they sell, and their consumers are willing to pay higher prices for better quality. 

Even at Transcend, we are guilty of this tendency to undervalue and sell our coffee at prices below what we ought to. If you factor in the quality and prices we pay for our green coffee, the cost of roasting it, the fixed costs of our staff, our cafes, our labour, etc., our prices should be at least thirty percent more than what we currently charge. And yet, largely because of fear, we maintain a pricing structure similar to that of our main competitor Starbucks, which is a company that has efficiencies and economies of scale that we could only dream of, not to mention comparatively lesser quality when it comes to the coffee that they source and roast.

While it is true that the producers who are paid US$800 per pound for coffee are being handsomely rewarded, we are talking about the sale of 200 lbs of coffee. This is but a thimble in the vast ocean of global coffee production and is not helping in any way to alleviate the chronic poverty model upon which the global coffee industry is built. What is needed is for all producers, globally, to receive truly sustainable prices for their produce, which not only cover their true costs of production but also allow for surplus, so that their families can thrive. This is the ideal for the world of coffee.

Tiger is Back!

As someone who watched Tiger Woods at his very best, win and win, slaughtering every field he was part of, I never thought I would see him play like he did today again! You may not know that I am a serious golf fan, wish I could play as well as I can watch. Tiger Woods is kind of like Apple for me, in that I have an unexplainable affinity to cheer for both, no matter what. It was amazing fun to watch the fans at the PGA Championship roar for Tiger like they did (feel kind of bad for Brooks who experienced first hand the Tiger effect today). If Mr Woods can just get the driver straightened out and start hitting fairways, he definitely has the game to dominate the golf again.  

Christine Sandford

My friend Christine Sandford is an amazing talent. She is the chef at Biera, and has taken this venture to a whole new level in terms of culinary inside a pub. Given the constraints of a beer venue she has created a menu that is local, sustainable, quality focused and most importantly tasty, within the confines of a pub environment. She has found a way to marry fine dining with beer which is no small task. This week she found out that Biera is on Air Canada;s enroute short list for top new restaurant, which is an amazing feat. I am very proud of her accomplishment, as she has stuck to her principles, and standards and produced and executed a menu which is unique to Edmonton, and often not appreciated by many. I predricted that she would make top ten last year, and I hope that I was right. Good luck my friend.

Chateau Musar 2000 / Canadian politeness BS

OK, Let me acknowledge that this blog post is being composed at 12:35 AM after imbibing a little 2000 Chateau Musar in honour of my dear friend Sara's birthday. Actually, the disclaimer in and of itself is ultimately too Canadian.

We are far too much a product of our colonialist roots. "Stiff upper lip, and all that British shit", show no emotions, keep it all in... Recently a good friend of mine gave me a hug at the end of a time together and said "love you" which at first blush sounded out of place. But as "a guy" who is white, Anglo-Saxon, and has a Christian heritage, it should come as no surprise that the word love in English is too confined, too narrow. I remember well my 1989 English 1900 essay, written for Prof. Upton, about love which compared Shakespear's 116 Sonnet to the various Greek meanings of the word love, Eros, Agape, and Philia. The latter being the subject of this post, brotherly or sisterly love, the root of Philadelphia. For the most part as good Canadians, we are too bashful or prudish to say to our friends that we love them, but that is the emotion that we feel. Not an erotic love, but an affectionate love that is borne of friendship and companionship, where we acknowledge that our relationship is more than something casual. Those words uttered by a friend,  "love you"  have stuck with me, knawed at me, because I have been too cowardly to use them in return.

A conversation around a fire, wine shared in the heat of summer nights, debate, stories, flawed recollections, are all part of a community that I want to be part of. Even a good couple of bottles of Chateau Musar weren't lubricant enough to allow me to communicate honestly this evening. I want to tell my friends that I love them. I want to communicate to my colleagues that they are dear to me, that I value them more than words can express (a lame excuse) because I could simply just say how much I value them and quit being so Canadian or proper. Why does emotion have to reside within the confines of intimate relationships? I think that we should be able to say "I love you" to our friends. Maybe I am the exception to this, maybe the world around me already communicates with this level of openness, but within my sphere, we are still to stiff. I for one want this to change, I want to take a page out of my friend Candie's book and start to tell my fellow sojourners that I love them, and I value their companionship and conversation, their debate, their disagreement, their perspective (that are often different than mine) I love them for who they are, because they make up my community, and more importantly contribute to making me who I am.

Old dog - new tricks

You would think that I of all people would know better? I have been involved in the coffee industry for over twelve years, and I was reminded yesterday of how easy it is to simply accept poor quality coffee.

I am not talking about poor quality in terms of the bean, as Transcend Coffee, under the direction of Josh Hockin, does an amazing job of sourcing quality coffee. The poor quality I am referring to is the shoddy execution of brewing coffee by yours truly at home. 

While I measure my beans every day (60 grams per 1 litre of water) and brew with water filtered by and Everpur system, I was destroying my daily cuppa Joe via my crappy grinder. I have been using the same Baratza Virtuoso grinder for the past six years and it was doing a terrible job at grinding coffee. Why should this matter so much, you ask? Well I have recounted countless times to many people at our coffee tastings during the past decade the importance of a good grinder at home. And like the shoemaker with holes in his own shoes, I have been guilty of ignoring the negative impact my old grinder was having on the quality of my home brewed coffee. 

This came to light recently as I have been dissatisfied with my coffee experience at home, and then randomly get to drink the same coffee at the cafe, flipping the switch in my brain as to what my problem was. This morning I employed a new grinder, and the results were dramatic! The coffee had life, vibrancy and complexity. The flavours were back. 

So you can teach old dogs new tricks, or at least get them back on track. If you are drinking bad coffee at home and want to learn more about how that could change, reach out, or check out one of the home brewing courses at Transcend Coffee. I should probably do some upgrading myself come to think of it, I have been coasting for too long on skills acquired many moons ago.

Friendship and fires

I am quickly approaching the mid-century mark in my life. I have never been someone who has given much thought to age, and have had good friends who are a lot older or younger than I am. With that admission, my looming 50th birthday definitely has me looking to a horizon which appears to be more downhill than up!

With almost fifty years behind me, I am keenly aware of the fragility of friendship, and the gift that enduring relationships truly are. And with over 18,000 days to reflect on, I am reminded of a quote of CS Lewis who says something along the lines - is their any pleasure on earth as great as a group of friends by a fire? 

Having spent the evening with good (no dear and precious) friends by a fire, I can do nothing but agree with Clive. Having recently moved, to an amazing new (to us) home in a great neighbourhood, one of the things I am most thankful for is that this new home is within walking distance of dear friends. I have always wanted to live in proximity to good friends, and after almost half a century, this is now a reality. Hopefully I do not become a burden or a bother, but I am excited for what this next chapter in our lives has to offer as my dream of neighbourly living comes into focus. As someone who has spent most of their life trying to foster community, I am keenly aware of how difficult this is to do. In a world that is rife with screens and fleeting messages I am thankful for summer nights, smokey fires, glasses of wine, sincere conversations, and dear friends.

CBC Summer Coffee Column

This summer I have the privilege of being a columnist on the CBC Edmonton AM morning show. In addition of being sleep deprived out of fear of not being downtown on time, I am afforded the opportunity to talk with Mark Connolly about some timely topics facing the coffee industry. 

You can listen to the column here

This morning we chatted about the fact that the commodity price of coffee has essentially not changed in the last thirty years. If you look at the New York Stock Exchange price for coffee on July 27, 1999 (this was as far back as I could online), coffee was trading at $0.97 per pound. The price for coffee on the NYSE today is currently at $1.10 as I write this post. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that there is something shockingly wrong with this picture. How is it possible that the price of green coffee has only appreciated by thirteen cents when the cost of everything else has gone up significantly more - for example, the price of gas in Edmonton was $.51 per litre in 1999 and today is $1.25 per litre. Not only has the price of green coffee not kept pace with general inflation rates, the amount of money flowing back to the vast majority of coffee producers has not changed significantly. A troubling reality is that most coffee farmers globally do not get paid enough at farm gate to cover their cost of production. 

There is much debate around what the true cost of production is for coffee producers, and given the global nature of the industry, and the changing economics from one country to another, this is fair. With that said, it is estimated that an average cost of production is roughly US$2 per pound. The c market price referenced above is not referring to high quality coffee, and most companies do pay price differentials for better quality coffee. However, what is clear is that despite price differentials, fair-trade, and countless other certification programs, a vast majority of coffee growers around the world live in perpetual poverty.

This reality has perpetuated during my entire tenure within this industry. What can we do about it? What can be done? As a consumer, you can begin to ask questions of your favourite coffee provider, you can start to inform yourself about the issues facing the coffee industry globally.

Ask your coffee provider if they know who grows their coffee, how much the farmer gets paid, what percentage of the price they pay goes back to the farmer. You could ask if they know what the FOB (Free on Board) price is for their coffee. If your favourite coffee purveyor can't answer these questions, you may want to start shopping around for one that can. Transparency in the coffee industry is really the best mechanism to ensure that coffee producers start to receive their fair share of the money derived from this global industry.

For more information the World Coffee Research site is a great start.

A link to the WCR Annual Report is located here for your easy access.