The Test--Walking the Walk

Not everything that can be counted counts, and not everything that counts can be counted. --Albert Einstein



Back in July, I was down-sized. It was quite a surprise when I got the news. For the previous eight months I'd been working for a local French-American cafe/pastry shop with growth ambition. I've been working some aspect of pastry production, for restaurants mainly, since early 2000 and my path has followed a fairly standard path. Initially I set my goal on becoming a pastry chef because I always loved cooking and was more inclined to the more meticulous and measured approach of pastry vs. the savory side of cooking. For the first five years of my career I was completely energized by my work. I talked my way into my first job with absolutely no relevant experience but with enthusiasm that was hard to resist. More often than not, for the hours of my workday, I was in "flow"--a term that is used to describe a being completely involved in an activity for it's own sake to the point that the ego falls away, time flies and skills are used to their utmost. The act itself of making dessert is still an enjoyable act for me but I find that the necessity of doing this in a work environment has diminished some of what attracted me to this as a career. My gradual dissatisfaction with my chosen career has had as much to do with my desire to be challenged and stimulated in a more meaningful way as it has with my distaste for an industry notorious for low pay and unrealistic expectations about what people should be willing to commit for the privelege of working in "X" restaurant (especially rampant in fine-dining). I imagine that mindset is not specific to the restaurant industry by any means. I think it's part of a larger American workaholic syndrome that envisions everyone being amenable to long hours and a diminished quality of life.

Last summer I began to embrace the idea of opening my own business. That truly is the only way a pastry career pans out for the majority of us without inclinations for celebrity chef status. My parents have managed to keep a small business running for decades so I figured this would be a natural step for me. I figured I would learn on my own and then test my mettle the hard way--in an actual business (YIKES). I have a close friend who would harshly poo-poo the idea that there is any divine working to the universe and is deeply offended by the idea that things happen for a reason. The popularity of the "Law of Attraction" was a huge thorn in her side. I only mention it because I can't think of those ideas now without hearing her disapproval in my head. Nevermind that. My instinct tells me that something is going on. As luck would have it, I was in this same jobless position a year ago and for the same reasons--my employer's financial straits. I was half-hearted about the job search. The usual job opportunities were no longer invigorating. However, I came across one job listing, a production job close to home. This was appealing and I sent my resume. I felt then as I do now, that it was extremely uncanny how this opportunity ended up being exactly what my employer and I really needed at the time, despite the fact that we were each actively seeking something else. Rather than a production job, they offered me an opportunity to learn the business-end of the operation on their dime. The experience would allow me to learn and stretch, take on tasks that were outside of my comfort zone and see first-hand what was involved in this kind of enterprise from people who were very real, accesible, and open-minded. It was perfect! I felt renewed and thrilled to be using my whole brain again! I wasn't employed by this company for very long at all but it was an intense eight months. As with all my past jobs, I learned a tremendous amount about what would and would not work for me, my value system, my future business. To add to the uncanniess, right before I was let go, we were digging through old files and we came across my two previous resumes--one from before I'd moved to NY and attended culinary school, and one from 2003. I'd sent my resume to many, many places but I doubt that they saved it. It was odd to feel like the universe had been conspiring for our paths to cross for years. Something must've made my boss notice and save my resume. She didn't save everyone's. It also felt strange to suddenly see that glimpse into this frozen moment in my past and all the enthusiasm that came through in those cover letters. It was such a stark contrast with where I am now. No doubt, I am still enthusiastic but my focus is so much broader now. I've outgrown my narrow definitions. During my employment, I internalized the necessity for having a different business model, one that strives for equilibrium and investment in people, community, and resources rather than growth for the sake of growth. The latter has been the norm and has created great wealth for millions of people, but it's a relic of a dying age. But I realize as well, it's a tricky time to have a business and be aware of what will be necessary to thrive in the future. There is a question of how to transition at a time when your competition might not be. All of this was firmly in my mind on the day I was down-sized this last July. Once I got past the initial surprise of it, I embraced the opportunity that was being presented. I got really excited actually. Who knew what opportunities might open up now? I had a window to combine my work with these areas I am so focused on and if I could find a job that provided that balance for me, work wouldn't feel like work.

This last week I thought I had stumbled once again on one of those fortuitous, opportunities. I'd sent in my resume for consideration at a new restaurant opening in October--Rouge Tomate. It's the New York branch of a Brussels restaurant with a visionary approach to restaurants. Their philosophy moves beyond the very trendy locally-harvested seasonal produce mantra and seeks to incorporate green practices such as composting, the most energy efficient equipment, designing their menu in accordance to a vigorous system of rules that give precedence to vegetables over fish, fish over poultry, poultry over red meat. The desserts would be fruit-focused and reliant upon natural sweeteners with refined-sugar taking a back seat. Their dining room is completely eco-designed. It certainly is not the first experiment in the green-restaurant field but it was the first time I'd had the opportunity to be a part of such an endeavor. I was completely on board with the idea of working here and could imagine all the great things I would learn. And then reality set in once the details of the job were explained. They had me until "50 hours a week...sometimes a little more" was put on the table. "ssssssssssss".....that's the sound of me deflating. No matter how I try to work it out, it's just not in my best interest to commit to something that will monopolize my life. The money would've been decent and amazingly, they were completely on board with laws about paying over time and holiday pay (a rarity in an industry that tries to get away with what it can). They offered a full range of benefits that I'd have to pay into but, benefits nonetheless! People might think I'm a fool to pass on this but I know too well what a wreck this tight of a schedule can play on my health, my well-being. I have a part-time job that I'm not leaving and truthfully is the only thing that makes normal full-time pastry jobs even feasible financially. I'm not giving that up. I also have a commitment to exercise daily, which for me comes in the form of a really long walk because I can use this time to think, make a phonecall, run some errands, or learn Spanish as I'm doing now. It's ME time where I'm not just doing something mindless like watching TV (though I need a little of that time too). I want to be able to go to a discussion group and meet with all kinds of people as the opportunities arise. Working 56 hours a week will amount to half my week being only about coming home to sleep before getting up to go to work again. I need time to read! I need time to daydream. I can do that on the train but it's a little nice to sit in a coffee bar and feel less rushed. I don't mind working weekends but I do mind that I'd have to turn down spontaneous invitations to socialize because I'd have to get up SO early on most days. I'm not a kid anymore. I need sleep too. I was ready to jump at this job offer. The money was comparable to what I was making before and that kind of security is very alluring. There was a learning curve and that stimulation is really important to me. But essentially it comes down to this: quality of life matters. Winning the lottery on this count would be to land in a job where you CAN live to work and it's a positive expression of your enthusiasm for being there, for your level of engagement. That is my litmus test. If a job offer is not going to encompass that level of engagement for me, then at the least it has to allow me a 40 hour week so that I can still find a balance with living. I would take a part-time job and make do with less money rather than sacrifice so much of what adds meaning to my life. It has been a tough call to make. I don't like the insecurity of not knowing where I will be working. I have a work-ethic that makes me feel uncomfortable with not snapping up the first reasonable job offer. In fact, I don't think I've ever turned down a job. In my own way of looking at things, I decided that this has been a test. No one can lay claim to values until they are in a situation where they are given a chance to adhere to them or not. If your actions do not fall in line with your values, then what you really value is what you chose, right? I looked into my motivation for accepting this job, and the root of it would have more to do with fear than love: fear of insecurity, fear of a better opportunity not coming along, fear of regret. I refuse to act out of fear...unless of course, a shark is bumping me underwater :), or something along those lines.