We touch people's lives

After graduating college and a relatively brief dalliance with a three-letter government agency, I landed squarely in the Fortune 500 corporate world. For five years, I played the game and did quite well. But, with each passing month, I sensed the withering of the creative rebel in my soul.

One of my avocations was writing, and I freelanced for various publications. A publisher, learning that I also had a business side, asked if I’d be interested in a job.

Since it would mean a cut in salary and benefits, I discussed the downsides with my then-wife. “Who are you kidding? You’d crawl over broken beer bottles for this chance.” She, of course, was right.

I enjoyed it far more than anything I had ever done. But, I couldn’t quite put my finger on why.

Every month, when we put the magazine to bed, we’d go out for happy hour at a local tavern. I was musing about how I relished what we did at one of these sessions and why that might be. Our editor looked me in the eye and said, “Because we touch people’s lives.”

That was the missing piece of the puzzle. But, I would lose sight of that. Inside of a few years, I had driven this enterprise to new heights. The owner was netting over $2 million more a year, thanks to my efforts. I was earning an additional $50,000 annually. What’s wrong with this picture?

Lesson learned. I went out and started my own publishing company. Two more lessons learned, at least in my emerging philosophies. The real money is in selling off your venture, not running it past its growth spurt. Also, if you want to hit a home run, front-run the market instead of following it. The surfer who notices and catches the rising wave first has the best ride.

So, I embarked on creating a skein of companies in emerging fields. Risky and difficult, but challenging and fun. For a while.

After cashing out on an especially lucrative innovation in banking technology, I was poised to brainstorm my next venture. But, the fire in the belly just wasn’t there. What was missing?

I sat down and wrote a list of everything I had enjoyed the most. Almost everything on the list was things I had done as a volunteer. Human service. Things that touched people’s lives. Ah hah. Lesson not learned.

So, I rooted around for a nonprofit in human service that needed some management skills, which is most of them. Found one in trouble, got it turned around and greatly enjoy it. We touch people’s lives.

A few years ago, I started a local group for paddlers (kayakers and canoeists). It’s grown to 600 members, which provides some satisfaction. But, there’s something more important in it.

We recently did a trip to Georgia, enjoying the ocean off Jekyll Island and the swamps of the Altamaha River. It was a blast.

I was thinking that it was the chemistry among some great people. But, driving home, it occurred to me it was much more than that. Without this group, few of these people would’ve ever ventured out to do such a thing.

In this group, we’ve camped in the heart of the largest swamp in North America, a paddle’s length away from hundreds of alligators. We’ve swam with manatees and dolphins. We’ve introduced people to the thrills of whitewater and the solitude of deep sandstone gorges. We’ve shown them and helped them experience wondrous things that few, if any, of their friends and neighbors will ever know in their entire lives. We’ve touched their lives.

And, that ain’t bad.

Where the apple falls

About four years ago, I was having lunch with Rocky. He told me he was taking on the challenge of starting a swim team for a health club complex and his goal was a state championship within five years. No small feat, since top swimmers stick to established programs that can groom them for potential college scholarships. Recruiting competitive swimmers would be extremely difficult.

I had just launched a local paddling group, with the objective of 500 members within five years. The larger groups of this type peaked at a few hundred, and many of them were located in hot beds of kayaking and canoeing, adjacent to desirable bodies of water for such activities. We were not, and there was already a local paddling organization that was part of an international outdoors organization.

Rocky and I toasted each other and smiled. “You’ll never make it,” we said in unison. The inside joke was that we had both been told that about things in the past. If you’re into the types-of-people expressions, the two types are those who avoid challenges because of the potential of failure, and those who seek them because they make the victories that much sweeter.

Today, at lunch, I toasted him because his team won the state championship this past weekend. My paddling group passed 500 some time ago and is just one short of 600. We raised our glasses and smiled. “You’ll never make it.”

He set his glass down and looked at me speculatively. “Do you think winning is genetic?”

“I don’t think so. Why do you ask, son?”