Proof that we need to change...

If, on your way to work tomorrow morning, you passed by an old man laying unconscious in the street, would you help him? Would you stop to see if he is okay? What if it were the middle of winter, the streets covered in snow, temperatures dipping below zero? Or what if you were in a hurry – if you were late for work. Would you stop then?

I would like to think that, for the majority of people, a situation like that would illicit an automatic reaction. That seeing someone, even a stranger, in need of assistance would ignite within you the natural desire to help a fellow human being. It would seem though, that the desire to help isn't as natural as an optimistic fellow like myself would like to believe.

I found this article a while back – so while it may not be recent news, I don't think it any less relevant. I know I speak often about the disconnection between people in the world today – about the lack of social awareness and the increasingly isolated nature of society. And if you've ever had any doubts about the things I have said or the opinions I have shared, maybe this is proof enough that something needs to change.

A retired gardener nearly died pf hypothermia when he collapsed in the street and passers-by ignored him for 5 hours. Great grandfather Brian Courtney was walking to his doctor's surgery when he fell unconscious to the pavement at about 8am. Hundreds of pedestrians and motorists breezed past the 77 year old and someone finally dialled 999 at 12:40pm. When paramedics arrived minutes later, his body temperature had fallen to 26C (78.8F) and he was nearly dead. Mr Courtney, who suffers from a Kidney condition, was taken to hospital and doctors were amazed he survived the ordeal in Central Salisbury, Wiltshire. 'I can't believe that nobody stopped to help him,' said his daughter Karen Paddington. 'It makes you question how caring people really are here.'.

You can all it the bystander effect, or Genovese syndrome, or whatever else you like - but I can't help but feel that giving it a name only serves to apply reason to what is an incredibly unreasonable display of social irresponsibility.

I could share my thoughts, but feel as if all I can say is that I am sincerely disappointed. Do you remember when your parents would be so utterly upset with you – your careless and irresponsible actions causing them so much anguish that they simply had no energy left to be angry. That is how reading this makes me feel. Disappointed.

If there was ever a time I could use some feedback, it is now. Share your thoughts on this. Share them with me, and everyone else you know. Tell us how this makes you feel. Tell us that you would have helped...

[Feel free to post your thoughts as comments – or if you'd rather keep them private you can email me at onehundredcups@hotmail.com – I guess what I am chasing after are your opinions on how things go to be this way. Was it always like this, or are things getting worse?]

From friends, to strangers, to friends again...

I'm going to break from the usual today and tell you all a story about an old friend of mine. An old friend who, after spending most of our youthful years together, I fell out of touch with. A friend who spent the last 12 years as more of a stranger, than a friend at all...

Time and circumstance had pulled Leighton and I 12 years and 7,577 km's apart, it didn't take either of us all that long to realize that 12 years and 7,577 km's between friends isn't all that long after all.

I didn't actually realize it until his visit, but Leighton and I have known each other a lot longer than either of us had realized. In fact, we were surprised to learn just recently that even our fathers went to high school together. As youngsters – aged 3 or 4 I would say – we lived in the same housing complex. Though our recollection of one another going that far back is vague, you could say that it all began back then – living in Dunvegan Court – throwing rocks at wasps nest's with the older boys, riding our bikes in the rain, and running for our lives as the cries of Old Anna Mooney scared us down from the trees we knew we weren't supposed to climb.

I can remember, at age 11, staying up all night in Leighton's basement playing Sega and eating candy until we became so delirious with sleep deprivation that the only logical solution was to spend 3 hours jumping on his trampoline. What a proud moment it was for us – two young boys on a pursuit to prove to one another that sleep is unnecessary, and that candy and video games is sufficient substitute. Or the incredibly unhealthy, but equally comical infatuation with the Spice Girls we developed in grade 7. I still struggle to make sense of that one, even today – though Leighton and I are pretty sure it was Jarryd who got that started.

Even know, I struggle to grasp how Leighton and I could have ever lost touch – but we did. High school came around, and I suppose our interests began to change. The girls came around too – or well, I guess the girls were always there – we just began to feel... differently about them.

I suppose we're not the only two friends to have lost touch, to have gone our separate ways, never to look back. The difference about Leighton and I though, is that I did look back. Twelve years since we last spoke, I sat in my bedroom in London wondering whatever happened to the friend who was once my Jacob Marley, guiding me as Ebeneezer Scrooge, through the depths of my guilt ridden subconscious in the annual Christmas musical at our elementary school. But rather than continue wondering, I started searching, finding my old friend back home in Burnaby, right where I left him. Funny thing was, Leighton wouldn't be staying in Burnaby for too much longer...

I sat at Heathrow, eagerly waiting for Leighton's flight to arrive. I was nervous. Meeting strangers had become easy for me – and though Leighton was very much a stranger to me now – something felt different. Lee Allen and Emma Gridley, some of the first on my quest to 100 – they didn't know anything about me – they had no grounds on which to pass judgement. But Leighton knew who I used to be, and whether he realized it or not, he would have an opinion on the person I had become.

I had been waiting nearly 45 minutes - his plane had landed now – the screen told me so, but there was no sign of him. Had I missed him? Did he look that different? As I pondered these things, an announcement caught my attention over the loud speakers - “Could Gregory Dion please report to the Airport Services desk”. Leighton was paging me! I must have missed him! I walked hurriedly to the desk that had beckoned me, but was disappointed to see only a middle aged woman standing in it's vicinity. If that was Leighton, we'd have a lot of catching up to do.

The good news – Leighton had not become a middle aged woman. The bad news – an immigration officer was on the phone, and needed to speak to me.

'Hello, this is Gregory Dion speaking'. I spoke with as much confidence as I could gather.

'Hi Greg. Listen, I've got someone named Leighton Wong here. He tells me you are here to pick him up?'

'That is correct' I tell him.

'Can you tell me how you know Mr. Wong?'

'We grew up together!' I said with excitement.

'And when was the last time you saw him?'

'... about 12 years ago...'

I wasn't feeling so confident anymore.

The immigration officer continued to ask questions, most of which I realized I could not answer. What were Leighton's intentions in the UK? What did he do for work back home? How long had he been planning his trip? Who would be finding his travels? Where would be be going after leaving the UK? How long did he plan to be travelling for?

I suppose it did all sound fairly suspicious. A Canadian guy, having recently quit his job, coming to the UK on a one way ticket to meet a friend he had not seen in 12 years. And all that I could really tell the officer with any true confidence is that the two of us used to really like the Spice Girls. I didn't imagine that would help Leighton clear immigration though, so I kept it to myself.

It took 4 hours or so for immigration officials to finally give Leighton entry clearance to the United Kingdom. He looked exhausted when we walked through those doors – exhausted and relieved – but, through all the relief and exhaustion, he looked exactly like I remembered.

Leighton and I spent the next week getting to know one another again. I showed him around the city I now called home, and took him with me to explore areas I had yet to discover. We spent the afternoons walking the busy streets of London, and the evenings with our feet up at the pub. We remembered old friends, told stories, and wondered what happened to everyone else we used to know. We drank pints, went for a curry on Brick Lane, rode bikes through Regents park, and wandered the banks of the Thames after dark.

It's amazing how easily time can turn a friend into a stranger. How, in the absence of communication, we can completely loose touch with someone we probably thought would be in our lives forever. And even though today's technologies have made it exponentially easier to get back in touch, it remains just as easy to never take the time. Funny thing is though, for all the of year we spent not speaking, it seems that a single afternoon was enough to put all of that in the past for Leighton and I. How instantly the two of us had reconnected. And the stories! The things we remembered! The moments that, as a 12 year old, passed by without notice. The seemingly insignificant happenings of our young lives that, when we look back on them today, had an immeasurable effect on the men we had become.

All these words though, they don't really do any justice to the week Leighton and I spent getting to know each other again. They don't capture the moments of laughter we shared looking back on the silly things that used to seem perfectly normal and acceptable to us. They don't really give you any idea how great it felt to say goodbye to another stranger in my life, and welcome an old friend back in.

[Look closely!]

Relationships & the Power to Change Your Life - Cup # 19 with Sam Murray!

I had never been out this way on the Central line – in fact, I had never really spent much time in East London at all. A rather interesting realization to have as the train made it way onwards to South Woodford, where I would meet Sam Murray for the 19^th cup of tea on my journey to 100.

Twitter had brought Sam to me, or well, me to Sam – if I am being precise about it. I had seen some tweets flying around about tea and conversation and thought I might add my thoughts on the matter – I am becoming a bit of an expert on the subject you know...

Initially, Sam seemed to have misinterpreted my interjection, and fired back with something fairly negative in nature. I was taken back slightly – after all, my intentions with all of this are genuinely positive. I remained hopeful that I might explain myself to Sam, to let him know about my project with the hope that he might give me another chance to throw some thoughts and ideas around. Thankfully, he came around - and after taking a look at the website, seemed interested to meet, apologetic even, of his initial reaction to my comments.

Sam was waiting nervously at South Woodford for my arrival. He had admitted his tendency to keep to himself, to work within his comfort zone. Being as social as having a cup of tea with a complete stranger requires doesn't come easy. I know all to well the roller coaster of emotions that we ride as a result. The worry that you won't get along. That you might not have anything interesting to talk about. That the other person my misinterpret your intentions! There seems to be an endless list of possible reasons why this could go wrong, why meeting a stranger for tea might be a bad idea. For Sam, meeting me was definitely a step out of the ordinary, and while all of this is becoming more and more ordinary for me, I was happy I could provide him with the opportunity.

Sam was an interesting fella. Works as a bookmaker – though, not the shady, illegal type. Enjoys music and a good night out. Seems he has been on his own a while, and that can be a tough thing to take on at a young age. I'd say he's done well though – he seems happy. More important than that though, he seems convinced of his ability to achieve something more in life. I'm not sure how he'll feel about me saying this when he reads it. I'm not even sure he'd agree. But I'm sure I caught a glimpse of it. He'd probably describe himself as a bit of a cynic, in fact. But there is a positivity about the guy that didn't come from his words themselves – more from the way he said them. His easy going nature was comforting. He seemed completely willing to accept the things that are, but understanding of the fact that each of us has the power to change the things that will be – if we should wish to do so.

Sam is in the process of starting up an Internet gaming company. It's still early in the game for Sam, but as he shared his thoughts with me, I couldn't help but feel convinced that he is on the right track. Starting small is the key. You may be nowhere near where you'd like to end up, but any step is a step in the right direction – a step closer to being wherever it is that you want to be. He will build a client base, develop the game further, enabling him to offer more to his users. As the gamers invest more into him, he will be able to invest more back into the company – helping him to improve the gaming experience continuously. This relationship between him and the game's users is an incredibly powerful one – Sam knows this. What's funny though is that it certainly doesn't apply simply to Sam's business plan. It applies to life – every aspect of it. It applies to the 18 others I have met for tea thus far, and it will apply to the 81 people I have yet to meet. It applies to my friends back home in Canada, to my parents, to your parents, to their parents...

And it applies to you too...

Relationships are one of the single most important aspects of our lives. Heck, they might even be the most important. Consider your own life. Consider the relationships in it. You build and maintain them in every area of your daily life. At work, at school, at home – with friends, with colleagues, with girls and with boys. With bosses, and with clients. With family, and with yourself. And with strangers too.

My conversation with Sam got me thinking quite a bit about relationships and how the relationships in our lives help us shape our future. We are defined, in part, by the relationships we keep - by our willingness to invest ourselves in one another. Through these investments, we acquire the power to create change for ourselves and those around us. Think about it for a moment. Think about your job. By building and maintaining positive relationships at work, you move yourself into a position to do and earn more. Think about romantic relationships. We nurture those with the hope that they will one day lead us to starting a family. And I don't think I need to highlight the returns that come from investing in your close friends and family!

So whats to say then that investing some time and energy in a complete stranger cannot lead to a worthwhile return? I believe the correct answer to that questions is nothing... nothing at all.

Tuesday 2-for-1!

Hey strangers!

While things have been quiet on the blog front - I assure you that my journey to 100 cups has been at the forefront of my mind! The last month has been quite a run around, but I have now emerged with some new cups of tea to tell you about, and some upcoming plans that, frankly, are pretty darn exciting!

I'll throw two stories at you today - my final Australian meeting with Alexander Downs from earlier this year, and my first UK cup of 2011 with Matt Whitby. I hope you enjoy them!

In addition to cups 17 & 18, I also want to take a moment to announce that from today forward, Tuesdays and Fridays will be of particular importance for you and I! My intention is to share my thoughts with you two times a week as they relate to my journey to 100 cups, and all the subsequent ideas that might come to me as a result. The further I venture into all of this, the more I feel it taking hold of me. It's changing me, one cup - one stranger at a time. Bit by bit, this is all making me a better person. I want to share those changes with you, and hope that you might find some inspiration for yourselves amongst all of this.

So make yourself a cup of tea and sample what Tuesday has to offer! Coming this Friday - the story of my cup of tea with Sam Murray in South Woodford, as well as a pretty cool announcement about a cup of tea I will be having early next week upon my return to London!

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Cup # 17 - Alexander Downs - Brisbane, Australia

It's almost fitting that I should finally get around to telling you all about my cup of tea with Alexander Downs on board this Malaysia Airlines flight back to the very city in which we met - Brisbane, Australia. My last visit was a bit of a whirlwind - and if you read any of the previous stories, you'd already know about my meetings with Jeremy Staples and Warren & Amanda Greaves, as well as the cup of tea on 4ZZZ radio.

I was halfway through my chat on 4ZZZ radio with Quentin Ellison when the studio phone rang...

'It's for you' said Quentin, as he reached across the desk passing me the handset.

I was caught slightly off guard, if I am honest. The excitement of sitting in a radio studio talking about my journey to 100 cups was enough, I thought - and now, to know that someone was actually listening - the game had just changed completely! I mean, I know people listen to the radio - I was confident that people would hear me and the story that I hope the share with the world - but most people, they don't really listen. They enjoy the background noise - the often comical DJ banter - and then they turn off the radio and get back to real life. To know that someone was really listening, so inspired that they would pick up the phone and call the radio station to speak with me - that really meant something.

Alex and I planned to meet at the Three Monkeys cafe. While he was the first to get in touch with me in the interest of meeting for a cuppa - he would be the last person I met during my time in Brisbane. I sat out front of the cafe with Lou, awaiting his arrival, unsure (as I always am) of what to expect.

An awkward looking fellow approached from behind me - Lou saw him coming.

'I think that's him!' she whispered with excitement.

It's funny how you can spot them. They walk carefully - a mixture of fear and excitement in their eyes. If you happened to see them arriving, they usually pause at the entrance - take a look around, glance at their phone to see if they have missed a text from me, look back in the direction from which they came - probably thinking 'if I turn and walk away now, I can pretend like this never happened'. But they don't walk away. They pull themselves together, and walk inside - hoping, just the way that I do, that the conversation will not be awkward, and that they might just take something valuable away from it. I froze a little as I watched Alex - for the first time, I had watched someone go through what I go through each and every time - the second thoughts, the doubts, the worry - and when you overcome all of that, you're already better off than you were before, aren't you? How awkward could a cup of tea be anyway?

As I pondered this, though - Lou kindly drew my attention to the fact that I had just let the guy walk inside without acknowledging him. Feeling like a bit of an ass now, I followed him inside. Through the long corridor lined with tables and chairs he walked. I didn't want to run up behind him or call out, so I just followed - not close enough that I could tap him on the shoulder, and far enough away that calling out would draw far too much attention to two men meeting for a cup of tea and some ordinary conversation. I hurried my pace, trying to catch him before the awkwardness of the situation I had created could escalate further - but as Alex entered the garden at the back of the cafe, it became all too evident that I was too late. Sitting at the first table in the garden was a lone gentleman on a laptop. Brown hair, collard shirt, dark jeans - the very description I had given Alexander so that he could spot me. I knew what was about to happen, and I think you do too...

As I stood and watched - Alexander approached this man, making the fair assumption that it was me.

'You must be Greg!' Alex said excitedly.

'Pardon me?' said the well dressed man.

'Greg?' Alex said, with much less confidence than the first attempt.

'No?' 

And then a long pause, as the two men stared at each other...

The man who made the mistake of dressing like me was clearly confused. Alex was confused, and probably a little embarrassed. And I was just standing there, watching. Alex turned away from the man who was dressed much the same as I was, looking desperately for another match. Knowing that I could not let him walk into that again, as casually as I could, I tapped him on the shoulder.

'You must be Alex!'

Indeed, he was. I knew this already. He looked relieved, happy to see me even - and I felt fairly confident that he did not realize I had just watched his slightly awkward attempt to greet the man he incorrectly assumed to be me.

To his credit, our conversation contained almost none of the awkwardness that I had just witnessed. We spoke of academics - our interest in learning, and not just the kind of learning that takes place in a classroom, but the learning that take place each and every day - in regular, ordinary, everyday life. Alex is studying social work, and wants to focus his career on empowering communities to create positive change for themselves. The idea that if you can convince people that they have the means, they will band together, and manage their own affairs, creating a bottom up model for community development. This model for community development, in a way, has a lot to do with having tea with strangers. The idea that ordinary people with seemingly no influence on society or culture, can get together for a conversation, share their ideas and stories, and by doing so, form a collective of people who want to create something positive. I want to create a world where people want to connect with one another - I want that to be acceptable again. Now I had Alex on my side.

After several cups of tea, and a lot of banter about the social state of the world and our shared belief that great change can come out of a seemingly insignificant occurrence - Alex suggested we head across the street to the pub for a beer. I am not much of a drinker - but it seemed like a good idea - and I felt like, at the very least, I owed the man a pint for the minor embarrassment I had already caused him. We hopped across the road to the pub and I bought the man a beer - I was more relaxed now of course, and Alex and I continued our conversation. He was a good bloke, and he had a lot of great ideas. I could see in him something similar to that which I believe to be inside of me - a desire to create something good for others. The desire to share the things he knows, with hope that he might inspire some good in the world. I don't know if he realized it then - but Alex had already inspired me, even before we met for a cup of tea. It was something he wrote to me during our initial exchange - something quite profound - and something that I think is best shared with all of you just as Alex wrote it.

"I hope to bring people closer to recognizing that living a fulfilling enjoyable life does not stem from segmented moments of bliss, but rather comes from developing a sustained momentum of continual awareness about the rareness of our existence."

If nothing else, I hope that in meeting strangers for tea, I might be able to convince people of these words, just as Alex has phrased them. To reveal to the world the beauty that can be found in the incredibly ordinary happenings of an incredibly ordinary day. The recognition of our unique ability as human beings to communicate with one another. To be open to hearing what people have to say, and to appreciate that everyone has the ability to create meaning in your life. Alex had taught me a lot already, and introduced me to some new great thinkers who's work I was keen to learn more about. And I guess, Alex reminded me that being awkward is okay too. It's not easy to meet a stranger for a cup of tea, and it certainly cannot be easy to approach the wrong stranger only to be shot down in a flurry of momentary confusion. But, the confusion and embarrassment passes, and if you are lucky - you come out of the whole thing with a new friend and a slightly new perspective.

I snapped our photo, as I do, and Alex and I parted ways. Meeting Lou just around the corner - I told her of the slightly embarrassing start, but more importantly, I told her about all the great things that Alex and I had shared with each other. After a short stroll around Brisbane's West End- we began to head back towards the car as I continued to reflect on the conversation I had just had. Waiting for our signal to cross the street, I noticed Lou looking intently at something on the other side of the road.

'Isn't that him there?'

Alex stood opposite us, waiting, just as we were, to cross the intersection. The signal turned, and we began to walk towards one another. I looked forward, my hand poised to launch into a wave, or perhaps a handshake if the upcoming exchange should call for it. This was no longer a meeting of strangers. It was a reunion of two friends. Lou was ready too, interested to meet the gentleman I had just spent the last couple hours getting to know. As the moment approached, Lou and I both looked to him - Lou's hand was ready as well - as we both know the exchange in the middle of the road would have to be a brief one.

'Hey Alex!' we both said it in unison - looking eagerly to him for a reply.

But Alex, head locked straight ahead, kept on walking - no smile, no nod... nothing at all. Our enthusiastic hello had been missed! Ignored! Maybe we should have been louder? More assertive? Now, though, it was too late...

As Lou and I walked onwards, confused and embarrassed - she lent close and whispered the words she knew we were both thinking at that very moment...

"Well... that was a bit awkward, wasn't it?"

[ I can't help but feel the need the need to throw this photo up as well. This was the first one we took - but we felt it looked a little too 'cuddly'. In hindsight - it might be more fitting that way! ]

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Cup # 18 - Matt Whitby - London, UK

Join Me.

Matt Whitby read the words again. It all seemed easy enough. Just send in your name and passport photo. Simple. But who was Matt joining? And what did joining even involve? Matt had no idea. But, if you want the truth of it, that didn't bother him too much...

For those of you familiar with the work of Danny Wallace, you'd know Matt as 'Joinee Whitby'. Yes, the 'Joinee Whitby'. The man who, in a way, would become the nemesis in a wonderful story about a collective of people dedicated to making old men happy - or, well, to making strangers in general happy through random acts of kindness. As nemesis, I don't mean to say that Matt Whitby was in any way opposed to making strangers (old men included) happy - in fact, Matt became so dedicated to the cause that Danny Wallace feared he was trying to usurp his power as the leader of the collective.

For Matt, that willingness to Join Danny Wallace all those years ago lead to many things. Perhaps most importantly, it lead him to join a movement of wonderful people, doing wonderful things for complete strangers. It lead to him having a roll in what would be come a best selling book in the United Kingdom. It even lead to an invite to attend the red carpet premiere of the film 'Yes Man' in Leicester Square. And as Matt stood just across the red carpet from Danny Wallace and Hollywood star Jim Carrey - he probably felt pretty good about saying yes to something that, at one time, seemed so strange.

I suppose Matt must have felt the same when a strange Canadian guy asked him if he was keen to meet for a cup of tea. Why not? No questions. No hesitation. Just a willingness to step back out on the ledge - to be part of something different.

I liked that about him. I suppose too, that the willingness to say yes is something that everyone who has joined me for tea so far has shared. We are a different bunch, aren't we?

Much like my cup of tea with Mark J. Winter, it was through Danny Wallace himself that I came into contact with Matt Whitby. Taking notice of a tweet sent by Matt in regards to an upcoming road trip from Los Angeles to New York - I felt the need to interject. Not necessarily with my quest to 100 cups in mind however - I suppose I figured that since I have done that drive before, I might be have been able to offer Matt some suggestions on what stops are worth making. The same willingness that lead to Matt getting tangled up in a strange and wonderful adventure took hold of me that day. I saw an opportunity to reach out to someone, to offer my thoughts in the hope that it may be of some use.

It was nearing 12:00 on Tuesday as I approached Chancery Lane Station. I would be meeting Matt Whitby for tea in just a few minutes. After a quick phone call, and an awkward wave from the opposite side of the road, Matt and I settled in at Cafe Nero, ready to let the conversation take us wherever it wished. Of course, I gave Matt my thoughts on his upcoming road trip and offered to do my best to get in touch with some friends who might lend him a couch or some floor space for a night or two along the way. It's funny how, when you take the time to talk to someone, you realize just how much you have to offer them. Whether preforming random acts of kindness for strangers, or offering them the possibility of a floor to sleep on in a foreign country - we all have the ability to affect each other lives. And it all begins with that willingness to say yes.

It seems to me that Matt lives each day of his life with that willingness in mind. Often times, it becomes easier to create our reality - to say no to opportunities in an effort to remain in control. But, I can't help but feel that it's those moments where we let go of control, that true growth happens. It's those experiences that you never thought you'd have that truly mould the person you are, and the person you will become. I know this to be true. I think Matt Whitby knows this to be true. And maybe, just maybe, by joining me for a cup of tea, 98 other people might come to believe in this notion as well.

Ch-ch-ch-changes.

Over the noise of the antique restoration shop, Warren could hear the radio faintly in the background. I'm sure that, by now, you can guess what he heard. Much like it did for Jeremy Staples, my story – the quest to meet 100 stranger for 100 cups of tea – struck a chord in him. Enough, anyway, that he had a look at this website and decided to send me an email.

We met up a few short weeks later at a place called 'The Three Monkeys' in Brisbane's West End – a cafe that I have frequented when in Brisbane, since my first visit there in late 2009.

I wasn't too sure what to expect in meeting Warren. He is married with children (his wife, Amanda joined us in fact!), which would certainly put him in a different stage in life to most of the people I had met so far (being that the majority are in their early twenties and unmarried) – but I guess for me, one of the most important aspects of all of this is to suspend judgement. The less likely I would be to ever associate with a particular person by chance or natural circumstance, the more rewarding the meeting tends to be. In meeting strangers for tea, I guess I am hoping to prove to myself, and hoping to prove to all of you as well (if I can), that any person has the potential to mean something to you. That any person you pass on the street, given some time and a little bit of conversation, has the potential to be a friend – perhaps even more. That, as humans, we all have something in common, something to share with each other.

One thing I did know about Warren, as he touched on in his initial email, was that he spent some time in pursuit of a career as a professional musician – as one third of the rather popular Brisbane hip-hop group, 'The Coalition Crew'. Warren has since moved on to other endeavours, for personal and musical reasons, but like me, he had dedicated a large part of his adult life to creating music and sharing that music with others in the hope that it would one day translate into some form of a financially viable career. It's harder to realize this reality than most people think... And you can trust me when I tell you that, because I tried to do the same for the better part of 5 years. Could Warren or I have experienced more success by sticking with it another year or two? Perhaps. But as we both learned in our own ways, sometimes you are just ready to move on to something new – something different.

My conversation with Warren and Amanda got me thinking a lot more about just that – change. Whether forced, or a product of natural progression – change is one experience that every human being in this world can relate to. We go through it ourselves, physically and mentally as we age and grow. We observe it in the world around us. We embrace it each and every day, often without even thinking about it. But for some reason, when it come to the wilful act of making changes, especially ones of a personal nature, the vast majority of us are absolutely terrified of it. I know I was – and I don't want to put words into Warren's mouth, but I suspect he may have been too. For many years, as I pursued a career as a musician – it began to feel like being a musician was all I knew how to do. I had no fallback career options, no girlfriend (at the time), no university education – and so a kept on with it, feeling like I had no other option but to succeed at the one thing I wanted most in the world.

But then things began to change – and while it took me some time to admit it to myself, I realized that living in a van and touring the world, as amazing as it was while I was able to do it, was no longer what I desired to do for the rest of my life. I wanted more than life in a 15 passenger Chevrolet Van could offer me.

Funny too, because if I am honest with you, I was never quite able to admit that to myself or the rest of the band. Our demise was more natural than forced. Our personal circumstances began to change during our time off from tour, and rolling with those changes, we soon came to realize that to continue in our pursuit would no longer be as satisfying as it once was. And with that, we moved on to new things.

But that change happened to be exactly what I needed. That change gave me the time to pursue new opportunities, and created a whirlwind of events that have all, in some way or another, played a small roll in taking me to Brisbane, Australia. Those changes led to a move to London, England; they led a period of discontent with the social state of the world I found myself living in; they led Stefan and I to a possible solution in having tea with strangers; and as the snowball continued on it's downhill roll, I landed myself on the radio in Brisbane, Australia.

The changes in Warren's life took him from the pursuit of Hip-Hop affluence through musical creation, back to university to learn Japanese with the plan to become a translator of literature; they lead to a job in an antiques restoration shop; they led him to tune in to 4ZZZ radio on Friday mornings while he worked; and while saws and belt sanders buzzed, those changes lead Warren to listen to the story of this silly Canadian guy on a quest to meet 100 strangers for 100 cups of tea.

I stared into my nearly empty bowl of chai. It was getting late, and I knew we would have to get going soon. They may not have known it then, but our conversation, as ordinary is it may have seemed to someone seated close to us with a wandering ear – it send me on quite the journey of introspection. As daunting as my quest to meet 100 strangers for tea can sometimes seem, and as difficult as it can sometimes be to identify exactly what events, experiences, and conversations can truly change your life – I left the Three Monkeys that night with smile on my face. In talking to Warren and Amanda that night, I had realized that life isn't about picking out the events, experiences, and conversations that change your life – it's about accepting the fact that they all do – each and every one of them.

Does that mean that I already know the answer to the question that this journey seeks to answer?

I suppose it does.

But does that mean I'm going to stop having tea with strangers?

Not a chance.

Hello. I'm Jeremy Staples. (Cup # 15)

It's not everyday that you meet someone who has experienced a penetrating eye injury. Nor does each day bring you an encounter with an individual who has single handedly kick started the 'zine' culture in Tokyo, Japan. I suppose these things to be true, only by assuming that most of you have not met Jeremy Staples - so for now, allow me to tell you a little bit about him.

It had only been a day since sitting down with Quentin at Brisbane's 4ZZZ studio - I felt, for the first time since starting all of this, that maybe people are actually interested in the idea of meeting strangers. Not just meeting strangers for tea, but simply the idea that any person is a person worth speaking to - any person is worth your time. I don't think that it took hearing me on the radio to convince Jeremy of this idea, but it certainly sparked his interest enough for him to get in touch.

I didn't know much about Jeremy before we met - but, I tend to prefer it that way if I am honest about it. With less knowledge, I have less ability to make any sort of judgement; and without judgement, and am forced to let each meeting become whatever it will become - stripped of any ability to make it something of my choosing.

My first observation is that Jeremy seemed like a genuinely happy guy - like that kind of guy that lives life by his own set of rules, but a guy who is more than happy to let you be part of this life, if you wish to, of course. We wandered Brisbane's Fortitude Valley for a while, in search of some place suitable for a cup of tea and a bit of the 'getting to know one another' stuff - and while it began to seem that most of the places that Jeremy had in mind were closed,  he pulled an ace out of his sleeve and took me to the Flamingo Cafe, and unsuspecting joint tucked in a back alley off of Winn Street. With a couple of green tea's on the way, Jeremy began to tell me about his adventures in the world of DIY.

Now, I don't mean DIY in the sense that most people know the word. We're not talking home improvements and renovations here. We're talking about a community of artists who create something by their own means, on their own terms, for nobody but themselves, but with a willingness to share their creations with the world. Jeremy's chosen medium is through the creation of 'zines' - or, for those who are unfamiliar, a small circulation self-made publication, usually of minority interest. Jeremy's latest offering, 'Whenever I See a Bearded Hobo On The Street, I'll Think of You and Smile', chronicles three months of his life spent travelling the United States, infiltrating their 'zine' communities, forging lasting relationships with complete strangers, and partying in Portland, Oregon with a tenacity that would make Nikki Sixx proud - the same tenacity that sent shards of wine glass into his eye, dislodging the lens - and resulting in emergency surgery upon his return to Australia.

(If you are at all interested in reading Jeremy's 'Whenever I See a Bearded Hobo On The Street, I'll Think of You and Smile' - send me an email to greg@onehundredcups.com - I'd be more than happy to let you borrow it.)

I could connect with Jeremy on a different level than most of the other strangers I have met thus far. While most of the conversation tends to look forward, to the person I want to become, and to the things I want to accomplish as I become this person - Jeremy helped remind me of the person I was only a few rather short years ago. A young buck, in pursuit of rock stardom, leaving behind the constraints, and the luxuries too, of an ordinary life spent working an ordinary job in exchange for months spent in a van, very little pay (if any at all), and meals care of whatever is open on the side of whatever highway we happened to be driving along. It wasn't a pretty lifestyle - believe me when I say that - but it was fun, and it was ours. Jeremy may not have travelled the world sharing his music, but he lives his life in much the same way. Striving for experience. Always seeking adventure. And perhaps most importantly, always willing to share his stories. As a band, my friends and I shared our stories through our music - Jeremy shares his with his words, and his 'zines'.

Jeremy and I talked for what felt like hours, trading stories of the road. He told me of his time spent in Japan, helping forward the 'zine' community in Tokyo. Of his desire to continue to support the community in Brisbane. His hopes of establishing an independent publishing company. Jeremy is certainly not the kind of person to live within his means - he's the kind of person who creates the means by which to live the life that makes him happy.  And that my friends, is something that we could all benefit from.

After finish our tea at the Flamingo Cafe - we took some time to wander the Valley again - feeling, for some reason, like it wasn't time quite yet for us to part ways. Our wandering took us a to place called Visible Ink – a Brisbane city funded youth space aimed at providing resources and opportunities to youth looking to kick start their business and creative ideas. As it happened, Visible Ink too seemed to be closed for the day – but after sitting outside for a little while, pondering our next move, and lovely lady unlocked the door and invited us in.

'Do you want to make some badges for your project?', Jeremy asked.

Did I ever... 

And so we got two it...

Only hours before, the two of us were complete strangers – we had never laid eyes on one another. Never crossed paths. Had no mutual acquaintances – none that we knew of anyway. But on that Friday morning the week before, as Jeremy sat as he often does listening to 4ZZZ radio, he happened to hear a rather ordinary Canadian fellow (that's me) talking of his desire to meet strangers - to see what opportunities these rather ordinary conversations could lead to. And now, here we were – well acquainted, sharing our thoughts and ideas, and making badges to help me spread the word of my quest to meet 100 strangers.

As the two of us worked away, I was struck by a strange sense of amazement. It's one thing to imagine all the potential for new experience that each day brings – but to take advantage of these opportunities is often a completely different story. The sad truth is that most of us will never take the time to experience all the things that life offers us. We make excuses. We don't have the time, or the energy. We have better things to do. Or that's what we'd like to believe. But there, in that moment - myself on the type-writer, and Jeremy on the button press – I realized how amazing it can be to just let life happen. Not just to take the opportunities that life presents, but to create them. To search for them, and to grab hold and see where they take you. It's a little scary at first, even I'll admit that, but after a while, it becomes normal. And living life the way you once did - saying no to opportunity, and no to chance, and no to life – it becomes impossible.

Try it. Even just for a day. Take a chance on something new. Speak to someone you've never spoken to before. Take a new bus to work. Be late even. Will the world end? Probably not. But you'll never know what opportunities lay ahead unless you develop a willingness to embrace them.

On that day, taking a chance on Jeremy Staples landed me at Visible Ink, making '100 Cups' badges, and getting to know a rather inspirational guy, with lots to offer, and many stories to share. I don't know yet if meeting Jeremy Staples for a cup of tea changed my life - but I know that it got me thinking about it. About the things that I value. About creativity. About the ability that we all have to contribute to something, if only we allow ourselves the time and the freedom to make a contribution. About our ability to live life however we choose - and the sooner we make a choice to live a life filled with the things that make us truly happy, the sooner we can get back to being ourselves.

Where will the next cup take me? I have no idea. But I can't wait to find out...

(Also, if you'd like one of the badges/buttons that Jeremy and I made - send your address to greg@onehundredcups.com and I'll send one your way!)

4ZZZ Radio! The interview is here!

Happy 2011 everyone!

It's been a busy few days since arriving back in London - adjusting to a new time zone and settling back in at work! I apologize for my lack of updates over the last month. The visit to Australia was wonderful, and I managed to squeeze in a few cups of tea too - all of which I will be soon writing about - but my ability to keep you all up to date certainly took a hit!

My plans for this year are big! And as excited as I am to get back to having tea with the lovely folks of the United Kingdom, there are also plans to take the tea adventure overseas once again! More news on that to come!

You may recall some tweets and a post or two back in December about a radio interview I did on 4ZZZ radio in Brisbane - for those of you who tried to listen online and were not able to, the interview is now up! Quentin and I ramble on for about 30 minutes, so I suggest you make yourself a cup of tea and get comfortable! I got to choose a few tracks as well, so I hope that you enjoy them as much as I do!

To listen - just click play! If you have any trouble - let me know and I'll investigate!

A huge thanks to Quentin and 4ZZZ for having me in. While it wasn't an 'official' cup of tea (due to the no liquid policies in the studio), it was exciting to be given the opportunity to share my thoughts on the radio -the interview even led me to 3 new cups of tea, so more stories are certainly on the way!

For now though, have a listen if you fancy it, and please feel free to share your thoughts with me. Do you agree with my stance on the state of verbal communication? Do you disagree? What do you think of the state of communication in the world? Social Networking -vs- Conversation - what do you stand behind?

To enter into genuine conversation can be a scary thing, for it involves the possibility that you may leave that conversation a completely different person than the one who went in...

But isn't that the point?

Love is for sharing...

Hey friends!

For those of you awaiting a post about cup # 14 - my chat with Quentin on 4ZZZfm here in Brisbane, Australia - the wait will not be much longer. Quentin and I will be getting together soon to catch up, and he will bring for me a copy of our chat so that I can share the whole thing with all of you who weren't able to tune in online, or here in Australia just the same!

In the mean time, I have been having a look around at the websites and blogs of all the wonderful people who have helped spread the gospel of 'tea & strangers'. Many of them have joined me for tea, others have found inspiration in the project, and some have plans to carry the torch in their own way - what they all share, however, is a willingness to share their thoughts and ideas with the world, and I am grateful for the friendship and support of each and every one of them!

If you have a chance, have a poke around - you might find something you like!

Rea from Sydney, Australia sharing the love!

Marinaela from Vancouver, Canada with the 'A Stranger A Day' project - Check it out!

Mark J. Winter from London, UK - Sharp fella with great ideas!

Jason Simon @ Caffeinated Conversations - Seattle, Washington - The chronicle of 2 years worth of conversations with strangers & all his thoughts to go with them!

Becky Murray - a good friend from Red Deer, Canada - always on the hunt for adventure!

Robyn Thomson from Delta, Canada - Cup # 8 and Drunk Baker...

Julie Maclellan - Friend & Journalist from Burnaby, Canada with stories for you!

Antwanyce Richardson - Spreading the love out of Maryland, USA! Thanks Antwanyce!

100 Cups takes on Australia!

That's right everyone - 100 cups is heading down under!

This Friday morning, I will be sitting down for a cup of tea with Quentin Ellison of Brisbane's 4ZZZ - 102.1 FM! Quentin hosts Friday mornings 'Divers-A-Tea & Talk' - from 9am until 12pm - I will be joining him in the studio from 11am (Brisbane Time) to talk about the 100 cups project, what I hope to accomplish by meeting all you strangers out there, and to have a cup of tea, of course. I might also help Quentin pick out some jams...

For those of you who want to have a listen - click on the banner below and choose your listening platform! If that doesn't work for you, head to the 4ZZZ website, and click the 'Listen Online' banner at the top of the page.

I know the majority of you are not in Australia - so I will post some local times below - though, if I don't post yours, this link should set you straight!

Vancouver/Seattle (Pacific Time) - Tune in at 5pm, Thursday, December 16th.

United Kingdom (if you fancy a late one) - Tune in at 1am, Friday, December 17th.

If anyone else wants to listen, but is having trouble figuring out when you should tune in, please email me and I will let you know what time you'll have to put the kettle on! I also hope to have a copy of the show to embed on here eventually!

Talk to you all on Friday!

Is 100 miles too far to go for a cup of tea?

(Cup # 13)

It's cold out. My toes are frozen, and I can't feel my finger tips as the punch away at these very keys. But that's okay. It's brilliant in fact...

I am sitting on a Chiltern Railway service from Leamington Spa to London Marylebone - and hoping that on this 2 hour long journey I might be able to grab hold of my thoughts for long enough to assemble them in to something understandable - inspirational too if I am lucky. Hopefully, this cup of tea will help.

I set out from London this morning - braving the madness that is London transport when two centimetres of snow fall on this lovely, overdramatic, and terribly unprepared city. It wasn't as bad as I had imagined it would be however, and I made my train with relative ease. I am one of the lucky ones no doubt.

Josie Sawers had emailed me last week inviting me up to Leamington Spa - a town about 100 miles north west of London, a town I only knew existed because a man named Dave Gorman lives there - supposedly anyway. The trepidation has left me now, giving way to a sense of excitement - which is comforting. It shows me that I am becoming more open - more willing to connect with people - and that, after all, is more or less the point of all this silly business.

As I sat on the train, I was plesantly surprised to hear friendly conversation between people who I can only assume had never met before. I sat alone, anxiously awaiting whoever would take up temporary residence in the seat next to mine - watching a Jamaican gentleman talk to a South African; an old woman to a young one. What a friendly bunch I had joined!

I, however, got the 'tired guy'.  We shared an exchange about the validity of our tickets, and our whether our choice of seats fell in line with the requirements of our tickets - but before I could dive into any sustainable conversation, my new friend began to nod off. He did look awfully tired.

I stepped of the train in Leamington Spa in search of a lady in the 'red puffa coat' and a black hat. She stood just outside the gates as I exited the station - only she was wearing a 'red puffa vest' and a black 'toque' - in an effort to avoid being presumptuious, as I often am - I walked right past. Now, don't take me for a rude individual - I just need some sort of assurance that I am approaching the right person, and the vocabulary with this one threw me off a little is all. After having a quick look outside the station for puffy red coats and black hats - of which I found none - I walked back in said and said hello to Josie.

As we left the station, she wondered aloud how we missed each other there - knowing I would have just walked past, and surely wouldn't have missed her red coat and hat, being that there were only about 3 other people waiting at the station - none of whom wore a red coat, or a black hat.

It is funny, isn't it - the need we have as humans to feel confident and secure. I mean, it makes sense, sure it does - but walking past the only lady around in a 'red puffa jacket'  and a black hat, to ensure that there was not another one waiting intently just out of site. Perhaps that was just my way of taking a moment to collect my confidence and bridge that gap between strangers. It's getting easier, but I still have some work to do I suppose.

Josie took me the long way through town, offering me a brief tour of Leamington Spa, as we walked to The Clarendon - a local pub close to Josie's heart. A second home. A place that has accepted and embraced her. A place that, after a long night on the piss, will pour you a pint of tea with a double shot of rum - without any judgement at all.

My hands began to sting as we walked - but I didn't care much. I was about to have cup number 13, and I felt incredible about it. I was walking through a small, snow dusted town I would never have stepped foot in otherwise. Talking with a complete stranger who was just as willing as I was to embrace the connection that we all have the potential to create.

Some ladies played scrabble as we sat at the couches across from them. I wonder what they would have thought of our meeting?

As it always seems to be with like minded individuals - the conversation between Josie and I came easily.  It was comfortable. Josie understood. She understood was I was up to, what I was trying to achieve. But what really set Josie apart from the other 12 cups was her willingness to challenge my ideas - her willingness to disagree.

I have long assumed that the state of the world as it is today - ever consumed with self service and automation, ridding itself of the necessity that is human interaction. A world of people who live in isolation, who close themselves off, socially speaking - I have assumed this to be a product of itself. As we advance our ability be more time efficient, we subsiquently remove ourselves from human connection - simply put, we don't talk to other people because we don't have the time. We create for ourselves a social circle, and it's size can fluctuate - but we tend to keep it comfortable, and save ourselves for it. Outside of that circle, we shut our mouths, and mind our business.

Josie can recognize that tendancy in the world - but she believes it is simply the way we have always been. An interesting perspective...

Maybe we fulfill the social needs that we have with those people closest to us - and isolate ourselves from the people that we don't know in an effort to survive. We create a comfortable and somewhat isolated existance (most of us anyway) so that we can feel confident that what we have create is safe, organised, and controlled. To open yourself to those who live outside your social boundaries runs the risk of allowing someone foreign to disrupt the controlled social environment that you have created.

Maybe, being isolated is the way that humans have always been in an effort to survive. It makes sense.

What do you think? Is our tendancy towards social isolation a product of our push towards time efficiency and a result of a lack of necessity? Or are we just socially isolating by nature - have we just always been that way?

With that said, Josie is as willing as I am to challenge the social trends, regardless of their origins. She sees it, however,  as an effort to challenge our DNA - striving to live in defiance of our genetic social predisposition. Either way, I will continue to meet strangers, and I think Josie will too - regardless of whether or not it's a push to recapture the human connection we used to embrace, or a quest to break free of our social genetics.

After 2 cups of tea, lunch, and a mulled cider - Josie and I took our leave from The Clarendon. She left me today with an invite to return, a promise of a warm bed that my girlfriend and I could share, and a night out. I said my goodbye's to the barman Matty, confident that I would see him again for a cup of tea and a night on the town in Leamington Spa.

As Josie and I walked back to the train station, talking of the potential for change, and the ability, and perhaps the responsibility that we all have to embrace it. There really is so much potential in the world today - and sooner that we realize that and get talking about it, the better off we will be. If all it takes is a little bit of friendly conversation to change the world, its a wonder that so many people are afraid to open their mouths.

What is your mouth doing these days?

Josie and I have ours wide open...