What Surgery Taught Me About Business

Published: 28 Jun 2026
Read: 4 min

If surgery taught me one thing, it's this: momentum is important. But perspective is priceless.

If you'd told me three months ago that my ACL surgery would become one of the most valuable things to happen to my business, I'd have laughed.

At the time, all I could think about was getting back on my feet.

How long until I could carry a camera again?

How quickly could I get back to filming?

When could life return to normal?

Like a lot of founders, I enjoy being busy.

I like creating.

Building.

Meeting people.

Solving problems.

Moving forwards.

I'm not very good at sitting still.

As it turned out, I didn't have much choice.

For the first few weeks after surgery, the world became noticeably smaller.

Simple things suddenly took more effort.

Trips cancelled or, if necessary, had to be meticulously planned.

Stairs became a project.

Filming days stopped.

Life slowed down.

At first, I found that incredibly frustrating.

Then something unexpected happened.

Once I stopped worrying about what I couldn't do, I started noticing what I finally had time to do.

Think.

Not the five-minute gaps between meetings.

Proper thinking.

The kind that founders often promise themselves they'll make time for one day.

I started looking back over the last few years at DRGNFLY.

Hundreds of client shoots.

Interviews.

Conversations over coffee.

Podcasts.

Strategy sessions.

Projects that went brilliantly.

Projects that taught me something.

For the first time, I wasn't looking at them as individual jobs.

I was looking for patterns.

And the more I looked, the more obvious something became.

The work we'd become known for wasn't really about content.

The strongest relationships we'd built weren't just because we made nice films and took great photographs.

They were because people felt understood.

They felt listened to.

They felt like someone had helped them organise experience into something they could finally articulate.

Content was simply the by-product.

Clarity was the value.

That single realisation completely changed how I saw DRGNFLY.

It explained why certain projects felt more meaningful than others.

Why some client relationships became genuine partnerships.

Why I enjoyed founder interviews so much.

I wasn't just interested in what people did.

I was fascinated by how they thought.

Looking back, I think the business had already evolved.

I just hadn't caught up with it yet.

That's probably the biggest lesson surgery taught me.

Businesses evolve quietly.

Founders are often too close to notice.

We're so busy delivering today's work that we rarely stop to ask what all of those years are adding up to.

Sometimes it takes being forced to slow down before you can see the bigger picture.

For me, that period of reflection led to a complete repositioning of the business.

Not because we wanted to become something different.

Because we finally recognised what we'd already become.

Our new identity didn't create the business.

It revealed it.

It also changed me personally.

I realised that I don't need to have every answer immediately.

That taking time to think isn't procrastination.

It's part of leadership.

Some of the most valuable work I've done this year hasn't happened behind a camera.

It's happened behind a notebook.

Looking.

Connecting ideas.

Questioning assumptions.

Trying to understand what all of these conversations with founders have actually been teaching me.

Those reflections have become the foundation of the DRGNFLY Archive.

Not because I suddenly decided to become a writer.

Because I realised we were sitting on years of observations that deserved to be shared.

If surgery taught me one thing, it's this:

Momentum is important.

But perspective is priceless.

Sometimes the biggest step forward begins with being forced to stop.

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