At 30,000 feet, coming home from St. Louis
You’ve heard the phrase: going from Point A to Point B. For humans, the path of choice is always a straight line. It’s the quickest, after all. The most efficient. It expends the least energy, and allows you to move on to the “next thing” on your list.
Right. The excruciating reality of life is that the straight line between Point A and Point B only happens in geometry homework and highways in Nevada and the Nullarbor Plain in Australia (one stretch of road has no curves for 87 miles). And so the desire of doing something quickly and effectively is clobbered by the cold hard fact that life doesn’t work that way.
I mean this literally. The act of life, whether it is manifested in a tree or a river, does not do straight lines. Life is organic. It meanders.
I heard a woman the other day say something that really stood out to me. She said that we can’t force our business into a mold. Because the marketplace will know we are trying on someone else’s clothes. That we need to find our own voice, and make our own way in an organic fashion. True success, she repeated, is organic.
Writing this post is another step in fully believing and processing this fact. It comes on the heels of having a conversation with the man responsible for starting Camp Okizu, Dr. Mike Amylon. He is a family friend, and I’ve had many conversations with him over the course of 20 years. Mike, with the prestige of his position at Packard Children’s Hospital at Stanford as a pediatric hem/onc, wanted to start a summer camp for families who were dealing with childhood cancer. Maybe the child with cancer. Maybe the sibling. Maybe the whole family.
What he thought would be an easy sell to the oncology community turned out to be harder than he could ever imagine. You see, many offices didn’t want to even have Okizu brochures in their waiting rooms, because then they would have to talk to patients about the tricky and poignant issues that arise from a cancer diagnosis in the family. And precious few oncologists knew what to say on this topic at the time.
His idea, bubbling up organically from the work he did, was new. He was forging his own path. And he, like every other entrepreneur with an idea, had to hack his way through the deep brush to get there.
Today, 30 years later, Okizu stands ready to welcome yet another summer filled with humans trying to wend their way from Point A to Point B and have some fun while doing it.