The Power of “Getting Out”

On Friday, I went for coffee again. This made the second Friday in a row that I actually got out. I’m not incarcerated; I’ve just fallen pray to a bad habit. The habit is called “working from home means staying at home.”

I work with individuals who are job searching and I repeatedly stress the importance of face to face networking and just "getting out there." The word networking gives most of us shivers, so let's talk about my coffee dates instead.

It had been nearly a year since I’ve seen my friend Colleen outside of cyberspace. She's a mom-trepreneur who owns Toe to Toe, a ballet studio, and has 4 school-aged boys, so her schedule is nuts.
There were a thousand barriers to my making this (or any other) date. Could I fit it in my schedule? This is a bit decadent for this economy if it’s “just for fun.” What would I have to move to get it in there? Could I get my kindergartener fed and on the bus on time? A coffee shop cup of coffee is 9 million dollars and I can buy several hundred pots at home for that. This means that I’ll have to shower and perhaps find my mascara, doesn’t it? Amazing how logical the Gremlins in our heads sound when we’re branching out of the cozy norm. Regardless, we nailed down a date and time and decided to meet halfway at a mom and pop coffee shop.


Appropriately named for my momentous branching out – our venue, “Tickled Pink” was adorable and inviting. It seemed to breed connection and unlikely pairings. It’s an antique and consignment shop in the middle and a sort of small business hub on the outskirts, complete with WiFi. I was greeted by a band of morning hecklers who were admitted regulars to the shop. They were hospitable and welcoming as I fumbled through my awkward ordering of “just a dumb old cuppa coffee, nothing fancy.” They all wondered just how on earth I’d never been in the shop if I’d lived in the community since it opened.

How, indeed? It sure seemed the place to be.

As I was stirring in some real Wisconsin cream, my friend arrived, ordered and checked out a “Princess Tea Party” flyer on the counter and led me to a cozy spot by a fake roaring fire.

We caught up on family lives and went on into chatting about businesses, hers and mine. Despite the economy, ballet is booming and she’s adding classes. We talked about my writing and coaching and recent opportunities I’d been exploring. I told her that since I’ve now revamped hundreds of resumes, I took my hand at my own. Not an easy task. She asked for a copy so she could take a look at my work and perhaps ask her husband if there was a need for some of my freelance where he works. I handed one over.

We talked about a mutual friend, Robin, who’s also a mom-trepreneur. She owns Zainey and Zoe, an online boutique that features girls’ accessories. Colleen wanted to contact her about an upcoming event for vendors at her studio, but she lost her number. I’m Robin’s business coach, so I knew it by heart.

Our short hour and twenty minutes was coming to a close. As we whipped on our coats, she folded up my resume and joked, “you don’t teach dance do you?”

“I taught Salsa and Meringue in college…”

“You’re kidding?! People keep asking for couples dancing. I’ll need to ponder this…” And we parted, vowing to make it less than a year until next time.

I had such fun on my coffee field trip that I repeated it again. This time with Robin and this time we each had a small girl in tow. We’re seasoned at this, so we were prepared to keep them entertained. Also, the week prior, I’d noticed the sign prominently hung above the coffee counter which read, “Unattended children will be served coffee and given a puppy.” Best to bring crayons.

We settled in next to the same faux fire as I had the week before and swept through the news of late. The girls colored while we sipped and chatted. I told Robin about a great deal I scored at the Clearwaters Salon around the corner yesterday ($5 cuts with an apprentice stylist who was wonderful!) While there, I learned about The Green Grocer, a new holistic food store that had a host of gluten free product. (Robin buys gluten free… always looking for a new local source.)

By chance, Colleen came in with her business manager and was able to connect with Robin personally about the vendor fair. The business manager would be handling it, and since being introduced, they can now put names to faces.

Our time was up and we gathered coats. Robin put Zaine’s adorable hat back on (her own creation, as we typically adorn our smidgens in her work when we take them out) and we headed for the door. The owner was there, holding it open and wishing us a good day. As we passed, she said, “What an ADORABLE beanie!” Robin, who can be squeamish about selling, was quick to casually respond, “Would you like to sell them in your store? I make them. Here’s my card.” Delightful.

Just like butter. One right after the next, connections flowed. I might never teach Salsa at the studio. Robin might not partake in the vendor fair. Perhaps nothing will come of Colleen’s husband peeking at my resume. But the seeds were planted. As soon as the message bottles are thrown in the ocean, things are more possible than they were yesterday.

Get out there.

Are you settled?

Interesting to see where I was in July amidst my immersion in much needed diversion. (The joys of a blog.) Since then, my husband and I have packed, unpacked, removed wallpaper from and painted multiple rooms, cleared and otherwise reorganized stuff left in the new house and moved the rest of our stuff to one home. For both of us, work life has changed and is still in flux.

I'm not sure that "settled" is the word I'd like to achieve. I'm not sure it's entirely possible (or desireable), to be honest. Every time someone askes that of me, "Are you settled in?" I can't muster an affirmative answer. "It will take a while, I think, but it's feeling homier." Is homier even a word?!

So I'm taking the old adage to heart. "Happiness is not a destination, but a manner of travel."

When the weather was exceedingly gorgeous, we took time to enjoy the pool and get the yard in better order. My youngest learned to ride a two-wheeler and we were all there to witness. When school started, my husband and I took advantage of our work schedules and hung out at the roadside as a family, teaching the dog not to eat the bus as it swallowed his girls.

We are not "unsettled," so there's that. It's as if we're floating somewhere near the surface instead of sinking to the bottom to rest with the other silt.

Not sure where this will take us next, but we're keeping open minds.

How about you... are you "settled?"