I learned important lessons about writing from two of my mentors:
From Michael Lazerow:
A key to blogging is persistence and regular cadence of writing, even when you don't feel like it.
From James Althucher:
Own your blog -- write fearlessly, not for others, but write for yourself. And particularly, it's okay to share emotion and be nervous when it's time to hit "publish."
Well fellas, I don't feel like writing, and I'm also treading into a new area by sharing a more emotional side.
That said, I needed to hear these messages from you both of these gentlemen during this time, in which I purposely hadn't posted because the topic on my mind is not a simple sports/business analogy with a neat bow on it, or my offer of a unique perspective on social media. It's also a sad and raw topic.
But relying on my faith in Laz and James, here is a slice of what's been kicking around my head: gratitude for a special friend. People often ask me about where my intense motivation and passion were born. This piece ought to shed a little light.
This past summer was the 10-year anniversary of the death of my best friend from high school.
My friend's name was Anna. She was the most influential and impactful friend in my lifetime, and by far the most intelligent. She taught me to dream bigger, treat every challenge as an achievable possibility, and most importantly, to have passions and to make an impact on the causes I believed in.
Anna was less than five feet tall, and was an absolute tour de force when it came to making an impact on people and organizations. When Anna walked into a room, she was the tallest and most passionate one in there; she pulled life from the walls. Most of all, she was an exceptional human being. Night after night, we'd stay up on the phone talking about ways to better the world, with me doing a lot of the listening and Anna talking about challenges as if everything was achievable with a mix of passion, intelligence and hard work. Wise beyond her years, she was a true visionary.
Unfortunately, Anna didn't know how to swim. Over the summer of 2003 while getting a JD/MBA from Harvard, and engaged to be married, Anna was babysitting her young cousins in California. An infant cousin somehow ended up the pool, unable to swim. Without hesitation, Anna jumped in. She saved the child, but she tragically drowned.
Why I do offer this incredibly sad story?
Because when she passed away I didn't accept the reality of what happened. Now, 10 years later, when I'm a "real adult" with a job, wife and child, I'm reflecting on the tremendous impact that this larger-than-life-size friend played in my life, and am now fully mourning her passing. I look at my life holistically, and I recognize that so much of my focus on impacting causes, working with passionate people, and leaving a personal and professional legacy are lessons I learned from my dear friend. I hear her voice in my head constantly telling me never to settle, to work harder than I think I can, and to be a champion of organizations, not just a passenger on life's train. She taught me not just to be a part of the change, but to create the change.
I miss Anna every day. It's because of her impact on me that I am on the verge of realizing my professional dreams with the ability to apply all of the tools in my belt to work with the best and the brightest toward a tremendous goal -- it's been a long road to get here, and I don't regret any step of the process.
My thesis is simple: gratitude. I'm grateful to have had a friend that has made such an impact on my life.
Equally important, I'm proud to have put those conversations that Anna and I had as teenagers into practice in my daily life. I'm grateful to have learned early and been able to spend the last fifteen years working with outstanding charitable organizations like the Friends of the Israel Defense Forces and Active Minds to make true and necessary impact. It's also because of Anna that I spend so much time devoting my time as a TechStars mentor, with the mantra of "give first." I'm grateful to be creating and building. These lessons have made me a better businessman, philanthropist, friend and most importantly, a better husband and father.
To pay homage to Anna, I say what she said to me on the phone every night as high school kids: dream bigger, treat every challenge as achievable and work your ass off when you find a cause, concept, individual or company that you believe in.