Welp. I certainly didn’t plan on kicking off my weekend tearing my achilles tendon.
I certainly had no intention of cosplaying a Greek mythological Demigod while filming a promotional video for a client in the middle of a small-town Main Street.
I certainly didn’t have “fun being frustrated talking to insurance companies while trying to arrange for an MRI, in order to piece together a plan for surgery” on my BINGO card.
The Universe (hell, let’s call him Steve) had some different plans for me.
Steve Sucks.
And in some vain attempt to calm the hell down after cancelling a trip to watch NDSU play in Denver, rescheduling two speaking events and turning in-person meetings into fun Zoom calls, I tried a bit of reading from "The Daily Stoic.”
Today’s quote told the story of Zeno, basically, the founder of Stoicism, who, after a shipwreck, lost everything he had. Instead of succumbing to despair, Zeno saw this as a turning point—a shipwreck that would set the course for one of the most profound philosophical movements in history.
This story isn’t just about enduring loss; it’s about finding an unexpected gift in what initially appears to be misfortune. His shipwreck didn’t destroy him; oddly enough, it freed him. It forced him to abandon his old life and embark on a journey that would impact countless others.
As I currently sit with my leg elevated and more than enough ibuprofen coursing through my bloodstream, reflecting on Zeno’s story, it occurred to me how often we, as fundraising professionals, face our own shipwrecks—events that seem like the end of the world, yet might actually be the beginning of something better.
Here’s a fun thing to imagine: You’ve planned an event for months. The theme is perfect, the guest list is packed with potential donors, and you’ve already started counting the funds you expect to raise.
Then, disaster strikes. The event underperforms, donors cancel last minute, or perhaps a global pandemic of mosquitos carrying some new virus forces you to scrap your plans entirely.
We’ve all been there. In a time like that? It’s easy to feel like you’ve lost everything—time, money, reputation.
In our field, where success is often measured by only how many dollars we’ve raised, a failed event can feel like a disaster. We might be tempted to throw in the towel, question our abilities, or even reconsider our career paths. But what if we reframed these setbacks?
What if we saw them as opportunities to find a new direction, to reinvent our approach, or to simply take a breath and slow down?
Dare I say, perspective is everything.
The shipwreck that could have ended his life as he knew it instead became the catalyst for Zeno’s greatest success. It wasn’t the event itself - it was his reaction to it. This is a powerful reminder that we, too, have the power to choose how we respond to our own disasters – self inflicted or set upon us…by Steve.
When a fundraising plan goes awry, instead of seeing it as a failure, how about we choose to see it as an opportunity? It might just be a chance to reassess our strategies, to connect more deeply with our donors, or to innovate in ways we hadn’t considered before. The truth is, every setback contains the seeds of a comeback—but only if we’re willing to nurture them.
Oh, in case you are wondering, tearing an achillies is not fun.
0/10. Do not recommend.
Having an actual leg that no longer works has forced me to slow down in a way I hadn’t anticipated. And frankly, didn’t want.
But as fundraising professionals, we’re often running at full speed, juggling multiple projects, and constantly striving to meet our goals. Slowing down feels like the last thing we can afford to do. Yet, as I’ve been forced to take a step back (ok, who are we kidding, I’m taking ZERO steps), I’ve realized that this pause is not just necessary—it’s valuable.
In the wake of a fundraising “shipwreck,” slowing down allows us to process what happened, to learn from it, and to recalibrate our approach. It gives us the space to be more intentional about our next steps, rather than rushing to fix what went wrong. In this sense, the setback becomes a setup for future success—a moment to gather our thoughts, our resources, and our energy for the next big push.
One of the biggest lessons from Zeno’s story is the idea that within every loss, there’s a hidden gain. This isn’t just about finding a silver lining (my therapist would say that’s a bit too toxically positive and not helpful) but it IS about recognizing that sometimes, what feels like the worst-case scenario is actually the best thing that could have happened.
The key is to look for the good, even when it’s hard to see.
In fundraising, it might mean finding peace in the knowledge that setbacks are part of the journey, not the end of it. Or it might simply mean taking a moment to appreciate the lessons learned, knowing they’ll make you better at what you do.
Finally, there’s something to be said for finding peace in the process.
I have no immediate joy in this current situation I find myself in.
I’m not having fun. I’m NOT enjoying relying on other people for help.
I’m not used to just siting and being unable to do stuff.
But there’s really no value in just sitting here feeling awful for myself.
I’m doing my best to accept that finding peace isn’t avoiding setbacks. It’s found in embracing them – whether you’re forced to, or that you have the audacity to seek them out by continuously chasing those big audacious goals.
By accepting that losses are a natural part of this adventure, it kinda gets rid of the fear of failure and opens ourselves up to the possibility of something greater.
Listen, I don’t think that I’m reaching for this analogy - whether it’s a torn ligament or a failed fundraising event, the way we choose to respond makes all the difference.
So the next time you face a shipwreck of a disaster as a fundraiser, remember Zeno’s words: “I made a prosperous voyage when I suffered shipwreck.”
You just might find that your setback is the start of something better.
You’ve got this.
-Patrick
yt