Goat Heaven

I recently visited the amazing Caromont Farm, and saw not one but four baby goats (or kids, to be precise) who had just been born the night before.  I owe this pleasure to owner Gail Hobbs-Page, who gave me a fantastic tour of her intimate goat farm.  She kindly introduced me to her precious, angelic kids and does. 

Now, you may ask, what was I, a career coach, doing in a remote goat farm in the middle of Virginia's Shenandoah Valley?   First of all, I love goats.  I'll brazenly admit that fact.  Second of all, I needed to follow up a hunch I had upon reading about Gail:  that this was a person I needed to meet!  I am always on the lookout for a unique individual who creates her own career, as opposed to choosing one, cafeteria style, from want ads and occupational handbooks.

My hunch was correct,  Gail certainly fit the bill.  She embodies what I call The Trail Blazer:  one who successfully blends her skills, varied passions, core beliefs and ideal environment into one distinct, and often uncommon, career path.  (For more on trailblazing, please see my previous post.)

My trip proved extremely fruitful.  I got a wonderful glimpse into a career path filled with personal integrity and joy.  Ms. Hobbs enthusiastically shared with me the intricacies of artisanal cheese making, the importance of ethical animal husbandry, and the merits of eating locally and supporting healthy food systems.  She articulately explained her business and life philosophies all the while affectionately stroking and cuddling with her ever-grateful goats.  (Who were happily munching on my purse, I might add.)

Talking to someone like Gail, a woman enthralled by what she does, even (and especially) during the hard times, gives me goose bumps.  Farming and cheese making is a career she needs to do, not just wants to do.  I applaud loudly when someone takes the oftentimes scary plunge to live well and genuinely, thereby soaking in the rewards that an honest day's work has to offer, even if it means giving up a lucrative career.

Before founding Caromont Farm, Ms. Hobbs-Page was the head chef of three top restaurants in North Carolina and New York City.  Interestingly, the University of North Carolina graduate never studied formally at a culinary school; rather, she learned the "old fashioned way" as she puts it, by apprenticing.  She quickly realized after beginning her work in professional kitchens that she had found her calling.  She possessed a special, innate gift of culinary prowess.

However, after many years, the restaurant lifestyle was becoming something she was ready to leave behind. The weekends, holidays, and general craziness in schedule was starting to drain her.   (I told her that I could definitely relate to lifestyle fatigue, a common casualty of being in the acting business for any length of time.)  Nevertheless, immersing herself in the restaurant business became an important stepping stone in her lifelong food journey.  As a chef, she learned how the culinary world operated.  This knowledge would later become a critical component for transitioning to the other side of the table.  As a farmer she would have to meet the needs of the most discerning epicurean clients,  fellow chefs. 

She spoke with me about this transition from Head Chef to going out on her own as a farmer:

"[I found myself] at that proverbial 'crossroads', where you want to do something so badly, you know in your heart you can do it, but the overwhelming fear in your brain takes over and you are so afraid of the failure that you make bad decisions or even worse rationalize yourself into doing nothing. It's the ultimate form of self-sabotage, I think. It had paralyzed me for so long.

When I decided that I was going to start making decisions NOT based on fear, but based on this new idea of success (not based on making money, but making a good product from animals that love and nurture me)  is when Caromont took off. For me, that distinction was pivotal. I was no longer coming from a decision based on fear, quite the opposite. I was living THIS life based on my core values, not just swimming downstream serving feed lot beef and vegetables from China."


Not only does Ms. Hobbs-Page live in accordance with her personal values, she presently draws from her rich treasure trove of talents:  Cooking, farming, teaching, and cheese-making.  She has a strong preference for working with her hands, which she can accomplish in her cheese-making.  She cares for the animals most of the day (another hands-on task), along with doing marketing and thinking down the road for her business.  She finds it crucial to be able to "see ahead" to determine what will be needed next.  These last activities are, of course, very conceptual, very visionary tasks, which many successful entrepreneurs are capable of doing on a daily basis.

Gail also teaches cooking classes, which she particularly enjoys.  She says that people have commented to her that she teaches all the time, especially each time she talks about food.  That seems to be a natural proclivity for her:  sharing what she knows with others who want to learn.  Sounds like a head chef function as well, no?

She shared with me the concept of relationship-building when it comes to the food business.  Her propensity for building bridges with other members of the food community as well as the surrounding Central Virginia community-at-large has garnered her many successful partnerships.  Her hand-crafted artisanal chevre is served at world-renowned restaurants in Virginia such as the Inn at Little Washington.  She also provides her cheeses to many other fine establishments like The Clifton Inn and Fosters of Keswick Hall.  Gail has built, from the ground up, long-lasting relationships with other like-minded, gifted chefs; relationships grown from mutual respect and trust.

Ms. Hobbs-Page gave me a sample of her delicious cheese and what a treat!   I have never tasted anything so fresh and wonderfully flavorful.  I can tell that it came not only from happy and well-loved goats, but from an artisan who cares deeply about what she creates.  So the next time someone says to you, "I love to cook, but I don't want to be a chef," inform them that they don't have to be!  There are many delectable ways to create one's own culinary path.

If you want to know more about the life of a goat farmer and the ups, downs, and nitty gritty ruggedness of farming life, check out Gails website, www.caromontfarm.com.  You may become a goat fan too.

Rough, Tough Cream Puff

Watching my daughter (not pictured above) transform from an infant to the little lady she is today has been nothing short of fascinating.  Her personality becomes more and more apparent as she grows up, and visible traits become patterns rather than mere temporary phases.  In particular, her affinity to care for others seems to have become a permanent fixture in her behavioral library.

Many parents, teachers, babysitters, and other adults have labeled her as “very sweet," and I've  observed from a very young age how helpful and nurturing she naturally behaves toward other children.  She jumps at the chance to comfort some other child, especially when they are having trouble emotionally.  (And come on, when isn't someone crying somewhere in a room full of little rug rats?)  For instance, during the first few weeks of kindergarten my daughter dutifully sat and comforted a fellow student at recess when he was scared of his new school environment.  She behaved in this fashion even when she was barely old enough to talk.  “It otay, baby, it otay,” she’d murmur to a crying infant she'd just met.

(Author's note:  I won't tell you she doesn't have her, ahem, moments.  When it comes down to her own younger sibling, nurturing gets rather dicey.  That behavior depends largely on mood.  Just yesterday I heard her emit some pretty evil cackling noises when her brother couldn't have a toy he wanted.  But that's another matter for Dr. Spock... or Phil.)

As a child, people described me much the same way they perceive Emma:  sweet, caring, kind.
However, towards the end of high school and then into college, I became a bit cynical.   (Okay, really cynical.) I was tired of being “little miss nice girl.”  I really wanted to become tough, assertive, less sensitive and feeling.  I ached to build up a thick exterior that wouldn’t crack like a delicate egg shell every time someone criticized me.  My mother always bemoaned my vulnerability at the hands of others’ comments.  “Why do you have to be so sensitive all the time?” she’d ask me again and again.  And I'd get upset and wonder what was wrong with me.

So when I hit 16 or 17 and the time came to think of careers, becoming a tough litigator seemed particularly inviting.  And, in actually, a tough anything would've done it.  I was determined to become strong in persona, direct and indifferent; a tough bulldog versus a sweet golden retriever who simply pleased and cared for others.  Thus many of my original career images and goals were spun from a need to become, in essence, different.  I wanted to summon up the emotional resiliency I always felt I’d had in me and become the hard ass I was capable of becoming-- at 5'2".

In high school and into college I’d tell people the legal career I had in mind, to which many replied, “You’re too nice to become a litigator.”   Well that just fueled my fire!  Becoming a litigator became my mission.  And what I find so ironic, now that I am a career coach, is the fact that I was so misguided about litigators.  I now know many successful trial attorneys who are NOT tough, which is why they are so effective and win many a case!  Fortunately, I never did give law school a shot, as you may have read about in my previous blog, To Be or Not to Be.

So many people fall into the trap of pursuing a career they believe will transform them into the person they want to be, as opposed to who they truly are.  Fortunately for us stubborn little bulldogs, our true talents track us down, haunting us to the end until we relent.   In fact, it wasn’t until my 30’s and had my first child that I began to see a reverse side to trying to be the tough-skinned individual I craved so badly.  First of all, it wasn’t me.  Period.  The corporate sales world was indeed tough, and I didn't like it one bit.  The acting world was even tougher, and I felt reduced to cinders after every rejection, no matter how many ways I tried to psych myself into believing others' opinions really didn't matter.

Let's Hear It (Finally!) For Sensitivity

I eventually realized that I spent WAY too much energy trying to be something I wasn't.  I knew that I just wasn't bulldog material- no offense to the meek bulldogs out there, of course.  Rather, I was a golden retriever through and through:  loving, kind, caring, and, most interestingly, really really good at helping and motivating people, empowering others to craft solutions to their problems.  I finally understood that my intuitive, sensitive-to-others' feelings nature could be an asset, not a liability.

Directness, confidence and assertiveness started coming naturally, not by force-of-will.  My sensitivity, now allowed to flourish, quickly turned from an internal, negative focus to an external, positive, and effective force.  My self-esteem developed as I learned how my inborn preference for taking into account the feelings of others allowed me to "see" things that others with more utilitarian sensibilities could not detect.  In fact, many people who go into psychology-based fields have this same preference and ability. 

So now if my mother were to ask me why I'm so sensitive, I can matter-of-factly say, “because I am.  Isn't that great?  And it makes me a really good coach.”  I just had to realize how far empathy can take a person who sees its power.  Sensitivity to others can create fantastic opportunities.