I’m Unavailable Today. It’s For Personal Reasons. The Reasons Are Zelda.
For nearly 30 years, I have waited for this moment.
Today, Thursday, November 5th, and one of the biggest video game releases in history is dropping: The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time remake for the Switch 2.
Sure, in two weeks, Grand Theft Auto gets released and is going to sell roughly four hundred billion copies and completely shut down the internet for a week.
You’ll see a very noticeable decline in office productivity AND professional athlete performance across every major sport this weekend because grown men who get paid millions of dollars to be in peak physical condition are instead going to be sitting on their couches stealing virtual cars at 3 AM.
This is not speculation. This is a guarantee. This is an actual stat that ESPN will talk about this week, and my current MN Vikings quarterback and curator of potential aneurysms for his below average gameplay Kyler Murray was so notorious for production slipping during the last release of GTA, that they actually made him sign in his contract, that he wouldn’t play it until the season was over.
Seriously.
But this is not a blog about GTA being released in 2 weeks. That’s not my jam.
Today, I care about Zelda.
Specifically, I care about a game that originally came out in 1998 when I was a teenager whose entire personality was built around trying to beat the Water Temple without a strategy guide.
A game that taught me more about problem-solving, persistence, and navigating impossible situations with limited resources than any leadership book I’ve ever read.
And it got remade. In 2026. And it comes out officially today. And I definitely waited in line to get it at midnight a few hours ago in the parking lot of Best Buy with other nerds with my buddy Erick. And yes, there were definitely people dressed up for the occasion in elf costumes.
It was amazing.
So here’s what’s going to happen. I am going to be unavailable from today through the weekend for what I will professionally describe as “personal needs.”
These personal needs involve me, a couch, a Switch 2, and roughly 39 hours of wandering through Hyrule like the 47-year-old man-child I am fully at peace with being.
I’m telling you this for two reasons.
One, because honesty is important in any professional relationship, and I want you to know exactly why I’m not answering emails.
And two, because I think you should do the same thing.
Not Zelda specifically. Although, honestly, Zelda specifically.
But something. Literally anything.
Because it’s November, and we just had a bonkers election, and year-end is about to eat you alive, and if you don’t take a breath right now - like, THIS week - you’re not going to get another chance until January.
Also, the Legend of Zelda actually has a lot to teach us about fundraising.
I know that sounds ridiculous. It is ridiculous. But I thought about this for an embarrassing amount of time last night bundled up in doubled lined jackets like this was some sort of throwback to pre-cellphone Black Friday events...and I’m right.
So before I disappear into the immersive kingdom of Hyrule, let me leave you with a few hyper specific and dorky thoughts about fundraising!
1. You Don’t Have to Beat the Dungeon in One Run
In Zelda, every dungeon is a multi-room, multi-puzzle, multi-boss nightmare that takes time, strategy, and backtracking. You don’t walk into the Forest Temple and sprint straight to the boss. You explore. You solve one puzzle at a time. You find the map. You find the compass. You unlock doors in order. Sometimes you leave, go back to the village, restock, and come back stronger.
Your year-end campaign is a dungeon.
And too many of you are trying to beat it in one run.
You’re waiting until December 15th, sending one frantic email with the subject line “THERE’S STILL TIME!” and hoping the boss dies on the first hit.
That’s not how dungeons work and that’s certainly not how fundraising works.
Map it out. What’s your first move this week? What’s your follow-up two weeks from now? When does the mail drop? When does the email go? When do board members pick up the phone? When’s the thank-you sequence start?
One room at a time. One puzzle at a time. You don’t have to beat the whole dungeon today.
2. Talk to Everyone in the Village
One of the most underrated parts of Zelda is the village. Kakariko Village, Lon Lon Ranch, Castle Town. They’re full of characters who seem unimportant. A random guy standing by a tree. A kid running around in circles. A chicken lady. There’s ALWAYS a chicken lady.
But if you actually talk to them, they give you things. Side quests. Items. Hints. Heart pieces. Information you didn’t know you needed.
Your donors are the village.
And most of you are sprinting past them on the way to the dungeon because you think the only thing that matters is the ask.
But your donors have side quests for you.
They have connections.
They have friends who might care about your mission.
They have information about why they gave in the first place and what would make them give again.
Pick up the phone or send a coffee invite or have a conversation that has nothing to do with money. The side quests are where the real treasure is.
And yes, I just called your donors NPCs. I’m not apologizing for that.
3. The Water Temple Sucks but You Still Have to Do It
If you know, you know.
The Water Temple in Ocarina of Time is the most frustrating, tedious, rage-inducing experience in gaming history.
You have to constantly pause to change your boots, the water levels make no sense, and even if you’ve played the game through more than once, you get lost seventeen times.
There is a 99.9% chance you’ve briefly considered throwing your controller through a window.
And yet. You have to do it. Because the game doesn’t progress until you do.
Every nonprofit has a Water Temple.
It’s your database cleanup or your annual report or that board meeting where Jerry asks about GoFundMe again.
It might be the grant report that’s been sitting in your drafts for three weeks.
Whatever it is, it’s definitely the thing you keep avoiding because it’s tedious and annoying and not the fun part of the job.
Do it anyway. The game doesn’t progress until you do.
And if it helps, the Water Temple is easier the 29th time through. So is your annual fund report. Probably.
OK maybe not. But at least the annual fund report doesn’t require you to change your boots every 45 seconds.
4. Navi Is Annoying but She’s Right
“HEY! LISTEN!”
If you’ve played Zelda, you just heard that in your head and got mildly irritated.
Navi is Link’s fairy companion who follows you around the entire game yelling “HEY! LISTEN!” every time she wants your attention. She’s obnoxious. She’s relentless. She never shuts up.
She’s also always right.
Your CRM is Navi.
It’s been pinging you about follow-ups. It’s been telling you that Margaret hasn’t been thanked in 90 days. It’s been reminding you that Thomas’s pledge payment is overdue. And you’ve been swatting it away like a fairy buzzing around your head because you’re busy and you’ll get to it later.
Listen to Navi. Open your CRM and run the damn follow-up report. Do the things it’s been telling you to do.
It’s annoying because it’s right, and it’s right because someone smarter than both of us built the system to remind you of exactly the things you’re forgetting
HEY! LISTEN!
5. You Can’t Pull the Master Sword Until You’ve Done the Work
In Zelda, you can see the Master Sword (it’s THE sword to beat Gannondorf, the super bad guy) early in the game.
It’s right there, sitting in the Temple of Time, being all legendary and glowing and stuff. But you can’t get it. Not yet. You have to complete the first three dungeons, collect the Spiritual Stones, and prove you’ve done the work before the sword lets you wield it.
Major gifts are your Master Sword.
You can see them. You know they exist. You know that one donor who could probably write a check that would change everything. But you can’t just walk up and ask. Oh no, not yet. You have to do the cultivation, the relationship building, the coffee meetings, the handwritten notes, the personal tours and the “I just wanted you to know what your gift made possible” phone calls.
Do the work.
Collect the stones.
Then - and only then - do you get to pull the sword.
And when you do, it’s worth the wait. As my kids would say, “Trust.”
6. Save Often
In the original Ocarina of Time, if you didn’t save, you lost everything. Hours of progress, gone. Items collected, gone. Puzzles solved, gone. The OG game didn’t autosave. It was on you.
Document your donor conversations.
I mean it. After every call, every meeting, every interaction, write it down. In your CRM. In a notebook. On a napkin if you have to. What did they say? What do they care about? What did you promise to follow up on?
What’s their dog’s name?
Because in three weeks, when you’re deep in year-end chaos and you need to make that personal appeal, you’re going to wish you remembered what Thomas told you about his late wife and why he gives to your scholarship fund. And if you didn’t save, that conversation is gone.
Save often. Your future self will thank you.
7. Take the Breath (of the Wild!)
Look, the next two months are going to be intense. I know your to-do list is already longer than the Hyrule Field map. I know you’re going to feel guilty about taking any time for yourself between now and December 31st because there’s always one more email to send, one more call to make, one more board member to chase down about their personal gift.
But here’s what I know from playing Zelda for nearly 30 years: if you don’t stop at the fairy fountain, you’re going to die in the next room.
Rest is not optional. It’s strategic.
Take a random Thursday off. Take a specific Friday off. Play a video game. Read a book. Go for a walk. Sit on your couch and do absolutely nothing. Whatever recharges you, do that thing.
Because year-end is a marathon and you cannot run it on empty.
I’ll be in Hyrule if you need me.
Which you won’t. Because I’m not answering my phone.
Unless you text me about Zelda. Then I’m answering immediately.
You’ve freaking got this.
-Patrick
P.S. If you need year-end help, email me after Saturday. The 48 hours in between belong to a kid from 1998 who never beat this game without a strategy guide and has been waiting nearly three decades for a rematch.
P.P.S. To my fellow mid-to-late-millennial professionals calling in sick on today: Godspeed.
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