My job as a community relations rep with PG&E was fun, dynamic, and interesting. But the idea of opening a different type of cannabis store had begun sneaking into my workdays. Whether I was seated at my desk or out in the field conducting an energy audit, the idea persisted to the point of becoming almost an obsession. The more I thought about it, the more vivid the vision became: a store centrally located in a good part of town, not in some dingy alley; a bright, modern, and welcoming storefront with relaxing music softly playing; a store into which anyone could walk and feel comfortable; a store providing an experience that made each customer feel special.
The next most frequent question I am asked is, How do I do it? The it being subjective, of course. It might be achieving success in general, or the behind-the-scenes work of the operation, or the never-ending advocacy work, or staying the course in the face of any adversity. In fact, it is all of those things.
Whatever your personal it is, the starting point is always the same: a clear vision. It can be something small and simple to begin with. In fact, it should be. It will come into more detailed focus with time and attention.
It’s easy to see the end result, the physical manifestations of success in the form of a popular product, a busy store, the passage of cannabis law reform, or a healthy bank account. However, it is not always easy to see how any of those successes began, where they started, or what that initial first step was that led down the path of success. Yet, all successes start the same way, with a vision. Somewhat paradoxically, the vision is both the beginning and the end.
There are countless books on the law of attraction, manifesting your desires, creative visualization, and the like. In no way can I claim to be a teacher of the subject while I continue to be a student. My classroom has been my life experiences, and I can share only those, along with my perspective on how holding tightly to a vision is paramount to any success.
Having always been an avid reader, and not knowing exactly what I wanted to be when I grew up, I chose a major that I knew would interest me: literature. Upon graduation, I was, perhaps surprisingly, offered a job in Old Navy’s management-training program in their Mission Valley store in San Diego. Despite my lack of any business background, I accepted because the job aligned with a lot of my prior work experience in customer service. It was during my stint with Old Navy that the desire to one day own my own business began to develop, and over the next decade, I would toy with different sparks of ideas: a coffeehouse (in the pre-Starbucks era), a surf shop completely geared toward women, a ladies’ clothing store. None of these ideas ever developed beyond sparks in my mind, but from the very beginning, retail was the commonality with all of them. And the desire to one day make my dream a reality smoldered.
After I became a medical cannabis patient in 2008 and experienced dissatisfaction with the stores available at that time, it was logical that those sparks would rekindle, allowing me to see the retail cannabis opportunity clearly, and that my subsequent vision would begin to form. Yet never having taken a business course, I went into this venture in almost every way cold, without a scrap of business know-how, without a road map, and with no experience. I didn’t know what I didn’t know. All I had was my dream, and again—my vision. I knew what I wanted to see as the end result. While I didn’t realize it at the time, this was probably a huge advantage. My business naivete left me unburdened as to the challenges and pitfalls of business ownership. I would face those challenges and pitfalls in due time, but their absence in the beginning gave me more freedom, freedom to simply create; to give my vision full rein without doubt and fear poking their heads in, disrupting my focus.
As the idea of opening a medical cannabis collective began to take root in 2008 and into 2009, there were any number of legitimate obstacles that could have proven insurmountable should I have chosen to examine them.
And looking back at the laundry list of odds against me, it’s probably a good thing I never examined them in detail. But, at the time, I never considered or focused on any of the many reasons why I might fail or the many reasons I might not have been able to bring my vision to life. I suppose that subconsciously I knew that giving any amount of attention to the obstacles ahead or to failure would crack the door for doubt to enter, and once allowed in, the parade of “what if” questions that would inevitably follow could be fatal. I simply left that door firmly closed and instead focused on what I wanted to see as an end result.
But let’s take a look at that list now, just for fun:
Not being utterly naive, I knew full well that failure was always an option. But I knew it in a theoretical way, not in an emotional way, and it is emotions that fuel vision.
For many, that may not seem like a good enough reason to take such a risk. After all, I was walking away from an excellent job—a job I enjoyed—with an outstanding company to venture into the great unknown. But walk away I did, and I never looked back.
While I don’t think that my actions were understood, I will say that no one in my life was in direct opposition, which was helpful. Even had I been faced with direct opposition, I know I still would have pursued my dream, but with no direct opposition, there was one fewer bullet on my list.
Having support from those closest to you can be helpful. However, you must not let your vision live or die by their sword. Your belief in the validity of your vision and your faith and confidence in your own ability to bring it to life are what matter; those two components must always be paramount in your mind, held in sharp focus beyond any obstacles.
Writing these words now, it seems so easy. It is and yet it isn’t.