I started this blog a few years ago. I had a good idea of what I wanted it to be, and I’ve figured the rest out as I’ve gone.
There was a short list of people who I found to be most inspiring in the blogosphere. Some were entrepreneurs, some worked in the realm of meaning and purpose, and some wrote in ways that made you pay attention.
Scott Dinsmore was at the top of all of those lists. He was the kind of person who everyone in the online space seemed to know, and his work had so many similarities to my own that it made me burn with jealousy.
Jealousy tells you that you want something someone else has.
Scott was too good to be true. And it took me a while to get over how much success he had and how much everyone loved him.
He was a golden boy, and I couldn’t take it for a long time. I wanted what he had. I wanted to accomplish the kind of things that he accomplished.
As time passed, I gradually opened myself to his work. And the more I did, the more I found myself feeling a growing respect for him.
He wasn’t loved just because he was lucky or because he could put on a nice front. He was loved because he loved people. Truly. Deeply. And wholeheartedly.
Everyone loved Scott. And I grew to love him too.
He worked hard to help people like you and me find and do the work they love.
Over the years I grew to admire Scott deeply, for his compassion, for the way he was bringing together people from all over the world under his movement, for the way he made his work about them instead of him, and for the way that he was loved for all of this.
I featured Scott not too long ago on my list of the best bloggers who talk about purpose and meaning. We exchanged a few tweets about it, but that was the extent of my person-to-person relationship with him.
Scott Dinsmore died about a month ago. He was struck by a rock while climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro with his wife — a lifelong dream and part of a year long trip around the world with countless meetups with his blog community.
I felt deep sadness at the news. Scott’s blog community is called Live Your Legend and he truly was a living legend. He lived his life with purpose and without regrets and helped others do the same.
As a someone who works in the realm of purpose and meaning, I cannot express enough how big of a hole Scott has left. His impact and legacy will extend far beyond his 33 years.
Scott: Thank you for leading the way.
Thank you for being an example to me and for showing me that it can be done: people can make a life out of helping others find their way. Though myself and others in the field will do our best to continue on where you left off, your shoes can never be truly filled.
I wish I had thanked you more formally while you were still with us. I wish we had had a chance to meet and talk shop.
I wish you were still with us.
Thank you for your work. Thanks for showing us what it looks like to live fully alive.
If you’d like to get a taste of who Scott was I’d invite you to watch his Tedx talk. If you were a friend or follower of Scott, I’d welcome you to share your words in remembrance below.