Spreading Joy
My first mission came into being on a road trip — four college kids rolling through America in an old VW Westfalia. Our mission was simple: spread joy. And we did. From warehouse rooftops in East LA, under the Friday night lights in El Paso, and in roadside eateries along the Natchez Trace, we scattered the fruits of our fuller wine.
Not only was that joy showered (somewhat haphazardly) across blue highways and dirt paths, but it was also planted within us. Long after we parked the Vanagon in the rippling grass of the Granite State, my compatriots and I nursed these germinating seeds within ourselves.
Creating Freedom
Later, much later, as I entered the world of entrepreneurship, I considered mission again. And, consumed by the need to justify the outlandish risks of company-building, I moved from an outward, altruistic idea to an inward, self-oriented one: to create freedom for myself and my family. Freedom from the shackles of employment, sure; but also freedom for the betterment of our family. I sought the marriage of two ideals: financial stability and free time. If successful, Amy and I would be able to focus on our four (now five) children; by eliminating ties to the traditional world of W2 employment and the K-12 assembly line, we could throw more of our creative energy into the raising of our children.
Consumed by the need to justify the outlandish risks of company-building, I created a new mission: to create freedom for myself and my family.
For a time, we met with inordinate success. I built a small company that afforded me the freedom to come home early most days, and take ample time away from the office. We poured this time and energy into our kids in the form of spectacular birthday parties and Suzuki Method music education.
As time passed, margins began to compress. Lacking the discipline to keep things simple, I stumbled upon new opportunities. I founded offshoots of the original business, seeking new avenues for revenue and profit. This search took me from my home in Denver to New York, London, and far beyond. Gone were the days of coming home early, and my multi-week sabbaticals were now unthinkable.
Forging the Next Generation
And then, in late 2017, I was thrust into a turnaround role as CEO of a media company with 45 employees and a serious cash flow problem. My intimate, self-absorbed mission to provide freedom to my family would not inspire this new, much larger team. I needed to dig deeper. To find something more luminous, something universal that would propel both me and my team forward.
Through some painful, bountiful introspection, I discovered that it wasn’t the off-days that fueled my fire, it was the “on” days. Taking my kids to violin lessons, leading Science Saturdays, and trekking through Europe was not about leisure, it was about training. My mission all along, it turns out, was to forge the next generation of leaders. And the beauty of this mission was that it applied to both my family and my work.
Onward
This mission carried me for many years. From the turn of 2017 through the darkest days of the pandemic, all the way to today, when I ask myself, “Is this still my mission?” Am I preparing my people to be leaders?
In my war against pervasive and devastating complacency, I want to show, in the words of Joseph Ratzinger, “The world offers comfort, but you were not made for comfort. You were made for greatness.”
Perhaps this is my new mission: to inspire greatness in those around me; to remind them of what they are capable of. Beyond comfort. Beyond the expected.
This journey continues; I stand at the gates of hope, building covenants with those on the path of greatness, beckoning them on to new heights, learning every step of the way.
