A few years ago I moved my family to the Central Coast of California for a job that I took.  We lived in a quaint town 10 minutes from the beach.  It was amazing!  I surfed a ton.

But, one of those surf sessions turned into one of the scariest moments of my life.  I had been tracking a monster swell for a few days and was geared up for some of the biggest surf of my life.  I woke up before dawn the day the big swell was supposed to hit and headed to a place called Hazard Canyon.  I know, the name should have clued me in, but I had surfed some amazing waves there a few weeks prior.

As I got to “Hazards” the coastal fog was rolling in and dawn was just barely breaking.  I was amped to try out my brand new board.  I walked down the canyon and out to the point to check the surf.  The fog was too thick and I couldn’t see the waves completely.  But I did notice that the waves were breaking all the way across the bay, which is normally as calm as a lake.

Trust me, this story is going somewhere.

Keep an eye on a fixed point of reference or get lost at sea

So, after pulling on my wetsuit and conjuring up some courage, I paddled into the bay.  My heart began to beat like a war drum as I realized how big the waves really were (it’s hard to tell when no one else is out and there’s nothing you can use for scale).  My goal was to paddle through the bay and out around next to the point.  I didn’t want to line up right at the point because I wanted to just survey the waves for a minute (from a distance) before committing myself.

The problem was, once I got out to the point, I could no longer see the shore.  The fog was now extra dense and I couldn’t see a thing.  Without the rocky shoreline as a point of reference, I had no idea where I was in relationship to the point.

As it turned out, I had unknowingly drifted right in front of the point when a huge set of waves came barreling down on me.  The first wave was the biggest wave I’d ever seen in my life and broke a few feet directly in front of me.  I was unable to dive deep enough to escape its violence.  I was dragged deep into the darkness of the Pacific and I was held down until my lungs burned.  When I finally surfaced, the next wave was already on top of me.  I grabbed my board to use for flotation and realized that it was broken.  Bummer.  But that was the least of my worries.  I was scared for my life.  Only during the traumatic birth of our second son have I ever prayed with more urgency.

Wave after wave pounded me and tested my will to fight.  Finally I washed up on the beach.  I laid there for quite some time catching my breath before I was able to gather my strength and my broken board and head back to the car.

The reason this surf session turned into a disaster is because I lost my point of reference.  I couldn’t see the shore and therefore was blindly paddling into the “impact zone”.

I’ve noticed that many photographers run their business without a clear point of reference.  They don’t have a fixed point to which their business is firmly tied.  They tend to wander aimlessly – wherever their latest job takes them.  Focus is sorely needed in most photography businesses.  You can’t be an expert commercial photographer, portrait photographer, food photographer, & nature photographer all at once.  Sure, you might be able to do all of those better than anyone else (unlikely).  But you can’t be everything to everyone.

Nail down what you do.  Claim it.  Slam a stake in it.  Own it.

Then, use it as your point of reference.  Never lose site of it.  As soon as you lose site of your point of reference, your guidepost, you’re putting yourself in the impact zone. Brace yourself.

But, if you stay true to your claim, your success will grow.  It probably won’t be overnight.  But, relentlessly pursuing your dream, while keeping your eye on your point of reference, will keep you safe and make you successful.