I am a 54 year old beginner, and I feel like a fish. Not so long ago, I was at the top of my game. As an information architect, I made good money working with great people on interesting projects. Then I made a radical change. I left consulting and Michigan to start an animal sanctuary in Virginia, and I convinced our daughter Claire to help.

We made real progress. In fact, I haven’t worked so hard since the 90s. And last week, with the launch of our website, we finally had a chance to share our creation. And you know what? It fell flat — low engagement, two donations — and the world shrugged.

It hurt. A lot. I struggled to breathe, drowning in thin air, like a fish out of water. I flopped from anger to fear to confusion. What happened? Why? What does it mean?

Making Sense

So I began sensemaking. I am a beginner. I have no experience in fundraising. Reading The Little Book of Gold does not count. And I am starting at zero. Reputations and networks are domain-specific. I can’t do animal welfare on the back of a polar bear.

I must do the work — recruit volunteers, forge partnerships, post flyers, give talks, lead goat walks — and, best of all, I get to learn. I don’t grok fundraising, but I will figure it out. It’s exciting. I get to be an entrepreneur and a beginner all over again.

But it’s different now. When we built Argus, I was but a smolt, carried downriver by the current of culture, an Internet evangelist aligned with the progress narrative.

Now I’m an activist. Now I swim upstream. In the dominant ontology, animals are objects/things, not subjects/persons; to fight for animals is to swim counter to culture. 

I suspect that’s why our launch fell flat. Even my friends and family aren’t on board. Like vegans, animal sanctuaries make folks uncomfortable. Nobody wants to reflect upon factory farms. So we don’t comment or contribute. We look away. We move on.

Leaping Waterfalls

The mission of Sentient Sanctuary is more happiness and less suffering for all sentient beings, including humans. We’re serious about the part after the comma. That’s why we don’t engage in emotional hijacking. We believe in gentle change. I know animal welfare is a wicked problem, and still I swim. I am driven by purpose and passion. I love what I do. Yet there are times when I suffer the loneliness of a long distance swimmer.

That’s why, when Jacqui Olkin gave us our first donation, it made an impact. It means the world to know someone cares a whole awful lot. Compassion means to suffer together. So it’s no surprise Jacqui is a co-founder of Rides for Refugees. She knows what it’s like to swim upstream. She knows a helping hand makes all the difference.

There are few spectacles more inspiring than a salmon run. Somehow, these fish possess the strength and spirit to surge up streams. At times, they rest in the shadows of rocks, but mostly, they are relentless. They swim for the scent of their home stream, and if they find a waterfall, they leap, and bless the world with the poetry of a rainbow.

Last week hurt. Yet pain instructs. My mental models were off. In the 90s, we ran the river in a kayak. Now I swim upstream without a paddle. And you know what? I am exhilarated by the challenge. I am a 54 year old beginner, and I feel like a fish. It’s an absolute joy to surge up the river. But I can’t do it alone forever. I’ll need help. So when you’re ready, join me. I’m easy to find. I’m the smiling bald guy leaping waterfalls.