THE LAB

Since Jr. High School I’ve been hearing adults yell at me to stand up straight.  My shoulders hunched over, I looked 2 inches shorter, and my lower back always hurt when I first laid down at night.  I was destined to be bent over at a 90 degree angle by the time I was 40.  A year ago I decided to work with someone who could help me integrate spirituality into my personal and professional growth journey and one of the first things he commented on was my posture.  Really?  I’m expecting a Come-to-Jesus moment and you’re giving the same advice my 6^th grade gym teacher gave?

I explained how I’ve tried everything: walking with books on my head; setting a watch timer at 15 minute intervals to remind me to correct my posture; strengthening my back and stomach muscles so they could hold me upright.  “None of those things worked, did they?” he asked.  “No,” I said shamefully as if my body and will were weak and this simple physical act had truly defeated me.

“Why are you sad?  You’re body is incredibly strong and beautiful and it’s doing exactly what you are telling it to do.

It’s protecting your heart.”

He went on to explain that my chin lowering, shoulders rolling forward and arms squeezing in on the sides is my subconscious doing its best to physically deflect emotional blows.  Whether the science is there to support this, I could clearly see how this habit could have been developed as a little girl who didn’t know how to handle some of the things happening in her world and so took a physically defensive stance to protect herself.

I gained a newfound love and appreciation for what my body had been trying to do but also realized this wasn’t serving me anymore.  Right then I started the difficult work that would enable me to finally stop protecting myself and to open up my heart after all these years.  Three months later I quit my consulting job, packed up my home, and moved to Seattle to help start Re-Vision Labs, free and open and strong in the knowledge that yes, I can take care of myself, but that it was time to do much more than that with my unique gifts.

This year has been full of horrible news: economies collapsing; people losing jobs, savings, homes and lives; hard work being lost and dreams being shattered.  There are so many reasons for every person on this planet to decide that now is the time to take a defensive stance.  To close up shop, brace for the blow (or deflect the ones that keep coming) and wait until the coast is clear before opening up to possibility again.  There are so many reasons to do this and no one can be blamed for making this choice.

But right now I want to recognize and thank all those out there who are not.  All the people whose hearts are wide open right now, fighting the good fight and doing everything they can, not just to survive but to overcome, create, grow, share, improve, teach, give and love.

I want to thank every single beautiful person on our team here at Re-Vision Labs who have done so much throughout the year to make our mission and vision of a better world come forward.

Gabriel Scheer, Melinda Epler, Dan O’Shea, Brett Horvath, Zach Silk, Dean DeCrease, Susan Evans, Rachel Dodson, Josh Lin, Eric Bell, Vivek Venkatramani, Martin Rogulja, Lindsay Calfee, Matthew Alberto, Henry Huang, Aaron Seeley, Regan Kohlhardt, Sarah Renz, Maddie Reddington, Kristen Kosidowski, Ariyah DeSouza, Michelle Mapel, Kelly Rula, Maddy Frey, Jesse Burns, Aurea Astro, Alex LaChance, Nick Spang, Sean Conner, Ashley Best, Kristin Norris, Anima LaVoy

We have put every single thing we have into this effort.  Every dime, every ounce of skill and energy, every bit of pride and growth and strength and perseverance.  We are not hunched over in protection of our individual selves in this incredibly difficult time.

We are standing up straight.

AND WE ARE CHANGING THE WORLD.

by Torrie Sullivan

This week was the final straw in my 7 month mojo-pilfering experience as a founding partner of Re-Vision Labs.  I came to Seattle with horns and trumpets blaring back in May specifically to bring business strategy and processes around operations, IT, finance, etc. to this new company.  With my UCLA MBA and “Big 4” consulting background, I came into our first strategy meeting armed with breakdowns of functional departments, a red pen explosion all over the existing business plan, and a 360 Degree Performance Evaluation process. Instead we spent the entire time talking about how we wanted to make a difference in the world.  Not kumbaya, let’s paint each other green and burn our panties “make a difference”, but really, what and who exactly we were going to assist in building movements to fight for an end to global poverty?  Who were the good guys in finance and how could we aid in community building to shift power and make sure that the mistakes made here in the US weren’t transported over to developing countries?

Wait a minute….the most important questions aren’t around product lines and services level and culture creation and talent acquisition and retention?  It’s about our personal morals, beliefs and plans to join forces in making the world better?  My Corporate Mojo is a loud 10 piece band and the banjo just lost its strings.  DA-DA -DING -ding- ding- ding- ding- ding- ding…

As each month passed and my vibe was not exactly vibing, one instrument after another lurched in final note into the recycling bin.  I was talking when I should have been listening, forcing measures and metrics and creating formal meetings to address things that really only needed a brief conversation over a cup of joe at Stump Town.  This is not to stay that Seattle companies or Re-Vision Labs don’t rely heavily on fundamentals of business.  It’s just that there is a [whisper whisper] higher priority than maximizing shareholder value [gasp!].

This week a brand new addition to the team pulled me aside to remind me not to make decisions out of fear.  Nothing else, just wanted to make sure I thought about this.  The old jazz viper in me wanted to flare up and pound the table [professionally of course] and insist that though appreciated, his feedback was not appropriate in this situation.  But transparency and authenticity are not just words on our website.  These kinds of conversations happen all the time at Re-Vision Labs and finally, instead of putting up my usual defenses when challenged, I listened and thought, I wonder why I am afraid right now?  The very last squeaky string in my ensemble died.

I was told yesterday that I’m probably not ready to write this first blog.  That I’m not ready to formally assert a personal brand because I don’t know exactly what I stand for to make sure people listen.  Well, I admit that I’m wrong a lot, that in dealing with these unbelievably complex topics around how to change the world I worry I don’t have enough information to take a firm stand, and I can’t guarantee that anything I say has any real value.  Though painful at first, I believe that finally admitting and accepting that I don’t know is a life-changing step forward.

I don’t have a personal brand because Seattle stole my mojo, and in its death, I’m finding the silence to be incredibly beautiful.

Mabeline charges $$$ a week for her company

I met Mabeline the summer of 2005. She was soaking in the sun at Honda of Bellevue, most likely waiting for someone. There was something unpretentious but still polished about her I liked. I was there to purchase my very first vehicle. She was there to sell. I don’t believe in fate, but I do believe in pragmatic matchmaking that makes sense and saves cents.

I purchased Mabeline comfortably below the asking price. Flush with my newfound negotiating skills, I sat down to sign the paperwork. After Washington sales tax, excise tax, registration fee, six months’ worth of insurance, and a month of parking in my apartment building, the total price tag returned to almost exactly the initial asking price. How annoying. But I had my first car—my first vehicle of freedom.

I was 23 and simply nuts with the itch to drive. I didn’t have time in high school or money in college, and spent a year after graduation in rural Japan riding around on the conventional “mama cherry” (a low-riding steel basket bicycle which doesn’t go much faster than walking pace) between the rice paddies I lived among. Getting my license and a car immediately after returning to the US was the only thing I could think about—a natural next step upon returning safely to the land of milk and honey.

After my 7th parking ticket I went to Target and bought a $175 dollar mountain bike.

I didn’t have payments on Mabeline, she was in “excellent condition,” and my annual insurance payment was a little over a thousand dollars. There was no pressing need, either for cash or for an upgrade, to sell the car. There was also no pressing need to keep it.

Seattle’s Department of Transportation’s “One Less Car” campaign inspired me to consider leaving Mabeline, rather than just threatening to every time I had a less-than-positive experience driving or parking—which was the strong majority of the time. While SDOT’s “incentive” of a $200 commuter voucher for selling your car didn’t itself inspire me to sell, it did make me think critically about what I could have instead of a car. (Thomas Friedman makes a compelling argument regarding what the US could have with a $1 gas tax here).

It dawned on me that while $200 wouldn’t go very far, the proceeds from selling Mabeline and savings I could accumulate by not even owning a vehicle could. Instead of wondering, “what do I lose?” I began envisioning what I could acquire instead.

As everything I purchase is ultimately a contribution to my happiness, be it frivolous or functional, I began by weighing the hours of happiness I expected to receive from various items.

For example, Pad Thai. I love it. Ordering out Pad Thai 3-4 times a week would contribute to roughly 12-16 hours of happiness (Eating the yummy takes half an hour and happily digesting the yummy takes about 4). On the other hand, I drove my car about 3-4 times a week for a total of roughly 3 hours. About 1 hour of that was pleasant, and about 30 min of that was out of necessity. Additionally, it was costing me about $100 dollars a week (see below table from SDOT’s cost of car worksheet), while even if I gorged, I could only consume about $40-$50 dollars on weekly Thai take out. Given the ratio of expense to hours of happiness, Pad Thai was clearly triumphant.

This exercise in anal hour-tracking led me to wonder what the pros of owning a car were, and their equivalent cons. A few are listed below.

Pro: Being able to get places.

Con: Spending as much time finding parking as driving, rush-hour traffic, and the constant cognizance of being a moving liability, always on the precipice of getting hit and having to deal with insurance, paperwork, repair, etc.

Pro: Leaving the City.

Con: Having to leave the City.

Pro: Not being stranded in the middle of nowhere alone at night.

Con: Wandering out into the middle of nowhere alone at night.

Pro: Getting to a job interview out in the boonies.

Con: Having to accept a job out in the boonies.

Pro: Being an adult, free to be entirely mobile.

Con: Being an adult eager to drive away.

Ultimately, the above boiled down to my desire to be lazy, and Mabeline’s demands were getting in my way. I couldn’t enjoy a leisurely ride because I was too busy driving. She always wanted gas at the wrong time, insurance coverage when I was out of money, and maintenance during the holidays. I’d rather sit back and let someone else do all that work—like Metro or Yellow Cab.

I sold Mabeline on my birthday, a somewhat bittersweet present to myself, and being without her has been fine. I ride my bike more, and I finally have time to read the newspaper by taking the bus. I earn $75 dollars a month by renting my parking space, which I use for more liberal Pad Thai take out orders. My grocery shopping is more efficient because I plan my meals based on the space in my backpack. I don’t have to worry about paying the insurance on time, scratching the car, washing the car, keeping it maintained, or ever finding parking again.

I no longer own such a major responsibility, and in its place I have a new digital camera, new couch, more take-out food, a greater appreciation for my surroundings, and an overall better sense of well-being. I have never been anti-car or even particularly environmentally sensitive. I sold my car because it seemed like a life without it would actually be less taxing, less expensive, and more liberating. It has.

Calculate the Cost of Your Car (from the “One Less Car” Campaign)

Year: 2004
Make: Honda
Model: 4DR Civic EX
Average Miles Driven Per Year: 3500/12 = 292 miles/month

1) (1)Depreciation this year: $3000 this year
2) (2)License, Registration: $ 87 per year
3) Annual Insurance $1100 per year
4) (3)Annual maintenance, tires: $ 200 annual check up
5) Total items 1-4 / 12 months: $366
6) Monthly car payment: $0 per month

7) (4)Monthly gasoline, oil: $21

8) (5)Monthly parking fees: $19 per month

TOTAL ITEMS 5-8 ABOVE: $406.00
COST per WEEK OF MY MABELINE:$101.50

1 – http://calculators.aol.com/tools/aol/auto02/tool.fcs
2- According to Seattle DOL’s “annual registration and license fees,” registration ($53) + King County Excise Tax ($34) applied to my vehicle and location between 2004 and 2008.
3 – Estimate
4- Based on annual mileage, average MPG, and $2.05/gallon
5- A 4-year total of roughly $900 in parking fines = $225/year = $18.75/month (terrible luck + naivety = multiple $200 violations and towing charges)

I was so excited at the response to the Local Green Stimulus Package event last week, and it’s had my mind buzzing about the endless possibilities for so many businesses vis-a-vis community engagement. Indeed, it’s gotten me thinking about what could be a larger point: could the future of business be business of, by and for the people? It’s interesting thinking about the extent to which some businesses are already engaged in community-building, cultivation, and realization. Likewise, it’s fascinating to think about those completely missing the plot.

Some get it…

I grew up in central Wisconsin, in an area with almost no access to what I now consider “good” radio. On occasion, I had the good fortune of going to Madison, and tuning into WORT – community supported radio. I’ve since, of course, stumbled onto others of that ilk – KEXP being the best local example.

Both of these stations rely on the listener directly to fund them, rather than pursue marketing dollars from companies that hope the radio’s target demographic perfectly matches their own – and that the listeners actually engage with their ads. WORT, KEXP, and other such stations provide a service and then ask their listeners to pay for the service. The result? Direct market evaluation of the value of their service. (NB: In 2007, WORT reported $658,608 in assets; in 2006, KEXP reported assets of $1,640,295. Needless to say, neither challenge a behemoth like Clear Channel,with a market capitalization of ~$18B).

Another great example is community-supported agriculture from farmers such as Helsing Junction, Local Roots, and Boistfort Valley Farm (to name just a few locally – there are countless others all across the country). In short, these farms sell shares of their season’s production in advance to people interested in 1) getting great local produce direct from the farmer, and 2) perhaps more altruistically, supporting local agriculture. The result? The farm has both operating capital and a guaranteed market for their produce, the customers have good food and a deep investment in their community, and the market has spoken in the most direct of terms: customer and producer are inextricably linked.

Some don’t…

By contrast, take the average car manufacturer. They forecast demand, based on sales data from previous years, and then they make the cars. The cars ship, and…. the market doesn’t demand. Why? Economic conditions have changed, styles have changed, the one I bought last year is still running, or whatever.

The result is a fundamental market disconnect. Rather than real-time capture of consumer demand, the auto manufacturer has relied on antiquated data, which has resulted in billions of dollars of cars sitting on docks, awaiting their fate.

The future of business?

This morning I was listening to KUOW, Seattle’s local NPR affiliate, currently in the midst of their pledge drive. One of the announcers commented that the amount for which they were pitching at that moment was less than most of us spend on our cable bills annually. While one could argue endlessly the merits of public radio versus cable television, what I found fascinating was the fact that they were using community organizing to accomplish the same thing that Comcast does with a bill: establish a revenue stream.

KUOW, KEXP, WORT – all of them can use a better understanding of their market and their communities. From that understanding, they might devise fundraising strategies that are far more effective than Comcast’s bills will ever be. Could they at some point surpass the Clear Channels of the world? By leveraging the power of their communities, could business indeed be reinvented as a vehicle of, by, and for the people? What do you think?

As many readers of this blog will know, I founded and run Seattle Greendrinks. This group of self-identified “greenies” has grown from the initial 12 (at our first meeting) to around 400-500 people attending on a monthly basis.

The beauty of the group is that, despite the changes, the growth, the new faces…  the vibe remains the same:  good people seeking to connect with other good people, all with a shared value-set.

This week I attended Honolulu Greendrinks, an all too rare opportunity for me to see how others run their Greendrinks. The resulting feeling? Comfort. I felt absolutely at home in the Honolulu Greendrinks. Despite the myriad differences between Seattle and Honolulu, despite my being a complete outsider, it was readily apparent that the underlying formula of both communities – indeed, the DNA of many successful community building efforts – is the same. It’s fascinating to think about how more strategic guidance of groups of people such as Greendrinks can lead to significant positive social change. I look forward to exploring these ideas, and to having you along for the ride!

Biking back to Office Nomads (the amazing co-working space in which Re-Vision Labs is based) from a meeting at Theo Chocolate, I had been thinking about how the best companies endear themselves to their customers, and particularly, how they create communities around their brands. I’ll grant: I run in a circle not prone to singing the praises of, say, Coca-Cola, so this thinking may be a bit bubble-ish (as in, I live in a bubble).

However, Theonistas (herein defined as those who love Theo Chocolate; not sure whether I invented that, but I like it…) are incredibly passionate about how they identify with their brand. How does Theo do this? They regularly offer tastings at aligned events (full disclosure: Seattle Greendrinks, my other organization, regularly partners with Theo), building respect not just through creating amazing product (though they do that), but also through creating real, if brief, personal relationships with their core customers.

As I was ruminating on Theo, I chanced to pass another local success story, Jones Soda. And lo! They had a sign out advertising “free soda Fridays.” From 3-5pm on Fridays, they offer passers-by a chance to enjoy their beverages, crafted without high fructose corn syrup, for free – and while so doing, create (again, short-term) personal relationships. I stopped in, tried the new orange cola, and had a short, but enjoyable, conversation with the employee on hand, talking about the new flavor. Am I likely to go buy a six pack of Jones when I wasn’t otherwise planning to do so? Unlikely. But, the next time I’m looking for some pop, I will doubtless remember Free Soda Friday, and be that much more likely to purchase their product. Beautiful.

What’s one to take from all of this? As Jones, Office Nomads, and Theo understand, the company that will thrive in the world of tomorrow will build meaningful relationships with their customers – and while online solutions will be crucial, nothing will ever beat the in-person, conversation-based connection. I’m excited to see Re-Vision Labs addressing the crux of this challenge!