That was the first thing that stood out.
My friend Belinda called me, and I said I was sad. Sad without real reason, because ultimately, this is not a man I knew. She replied “Well. He’s your whole life!”
I’m surrounded by iPhones and Macbooks and iMacs. I touch these tools every day for every single thing I do.
..but it’s not that.
It’s that there’s this person who was brave enough to go after what he cared about, who was ballsy enough to do it, to chase it, and literally change the world. In a million intimate ways.
There are so few people who name their dreams, and fewer still who, having named them, bend their entire life to realizing them.
Of those people? A fraction do it more than once.
More than twice.
This is a man with a legacy that has reached into the way culture is disseminated in my own country, in many countries, with tendrils spreading through the world for years to come.
He is part of the democracy of media– of why it has become ever easier to be a person with an idea, and to make a film, or to make a song.
He built a product and changed the music industry.
But the constituent parts of his legacy are not, so much, what capture me.
This is one man who has built a bigger life for himself than most of us have ever dreamed.
That tenacity, perseverance, and vision– having that light go from the world– that is where I feel the sting of sadness, for a man that I’ve never met.
Parting words from the man himself, advice on creating a life well lived:
“Remembering that you are going to die, is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking that you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.”
– Steve Jobs.