On Leaving and Moving On

With a mark on our growth chart, I am reminded again, that the beauty of life is that it is not static.   Change is the energy and inspiration for noticing what we have, what we are and what we lose.  And, with so much to lose, life's beauty continues to be an attempt to be grateful for what we have now in this moment.

And so, it was with a smile and a tear that I accepted the goodbyes of long-time customers this past week. What an honor to be seen and appreciated for the work that it takes to be one's neighborhood cafe.  We watch each other grow (especially the children as they mark their growth on our wall chart) and celebrate life's milestones along the way.  Sure, there are many customers who do just pass through, visitors and travelers, some who seek us out, others who just bump into us without ever really knowing what we're about.

But, for those who do invest themselves by making our cafe part of their regular routines - be it daily, weekly, monthly or just as they see fit - a different kind of interaction takes place. There is recognition, familiarity, efforts to get to know each other more fully, and over time, a true appreciation when seeing each other.  That all of these can build over time through simple acts of transactions at a cafe bring me joy.

So, if one family's move out of the neighborhood can draw all this out of me, I start to recognize why it's so difficult to even begin to imagine what my "going away" from Butter might feel like.

Having a milestone year marker (60) has moved me into more conversations about an eventual leaving of my operations here at Butter.  Some of these conversations are with peers who have or are in the process of retiring.  Some are with my family because my body just doesn't handle the pace of restaurant life as well as it used to - even after some significant scaling back during the pandemic.  And some are with those I've begun the process of testing out the idea that someone someday might be able to keep what we've started here going on beyond me. It would, of course, be a joy to pass the business along to one of my children and keep it in the family, but our family doesn't quite have the resources, at least not at this point in the cafe's life.  Its biggest challenges are still ahead - dealing with the effects of the pandemic.

Because we chose to stay open through the pandemic and keep a core staff employed during times that saw dramatic drops in sales revenue, we traded stability for debt.  While there had been lots of public support early on during the pandemic (and we did make use of nearly every option that was available), government support dried up this past year while we're still not back to pre-pandemic levels of activity.  Like other restaurants we pivoted one way and another, we scaled back and slowly tried to return to normal, and we faced tremendous cost increases, supply disruptions and workforce changes.  Through all of this we have continued to face the well-deserved cautiousness of customers.

Seems like a good time to think about leaving and just not look back.  But I do look back, I do appreciate what is unfolding now in the present and I do look ahead and imagine how this neighborhood can continue to thrive with a community-building business positioned at 37th and Nicollet.

Eventually, I hope to be able to say goodbye like last week's family did, with great appreciation for all the people and organizations and businesses that have helped Butter grow these past 17 years.  That growth might not show up on our Wood from the Hood wall chart but it has happened many other visible ways.

We are still who we were 17 years ago - but we've also become a training site, a community hub, a CSA host, a political advocacy center, a stage, a gallery, an organics recycling demonstration site.  We added bread baking and ice cream, and learned to prepare many items in-house.  We've connected with schools and youth programs, theaters and nature centers.  

As we get ready to celebrate our 10th anniversary at 37th and Nicollet in a couple months, I wonder where the time went.  The dates on the wall chart create the same time-warp for me.  Those Butter-kids of 2012 are now moving into their college years, with a couple working alongside me this summer.   Time keeps moving on, and so I must continue to think about what's ahead for me.

There will be so much to give up and leave behind, but for now, let's continue to walk this path with gratefulness for what we have here and now.