I have a hard time writing this, my tribute to the late and great Scott Dinsmore, founder of Live Your Legend, leader of authenticity, instigator of passion and purpose. It’s not because thinking about him makes me want to cry again – I’ve become proficient at writing between sobbing sessions this week. It’s not because of his long, heartfelt response to my last email to him, just a few weeks prior to his passing. It’s not because of all the wonderful truths about him in the thousands of messages, stories, poems, songs, videos, and articles that continue to pour into his tribute page.
I’m having a hard time writing this because:
1) I don’t feel worthy. I’m not family, nor a close friend, nor a colleague, nor someone he’s worked with. I’m not in his inner circle.
2) I’m afraid of messing up, of not doing justice to honor him with something as amazing as he was.
Despite these reasons, I know I have to say something; I’m so full-up with gratitude for him, because it is well-placed.
Even though I wasn’t in Scott’s close circle, he made me feel like I was. And apparently, he managed to do this to thousands of people all over the world. Testimony after testimony continue to show up on his tribute page from people who had never met him in person, but who were so impacted by his energy, spirit, and contributions, that they, too, were devastated by the news of his death last Saturday.
Because Scott was real. He was genuinely open to connect with everyone who reached out to him. He was also kind, patient, positive, humble, and thoughtful – as uncommonly a beautiful person and gentle spirit as you could imagine.
He was transparent. He had a bubbly, nervous energy sometimes, and he openly shared his vulnerabilities. He loved Taylor Swift, did handstands, and breakdanced for all to see. I was not in his inner circle, yet I knew these things.
Scott was intelligent. He was unassuming about his intelligence, but through his writing, online content, and how he packed his courses, you could tell the guy had a busy, analytical, sparkly brain.
He was also wise. Scott saw the big picture. He wanted to create a life of purpose through work that he loved, and one that would create space for more meaning and love in his life. He wanted to share this with others, as well, to change the world in the most powerful and igniting way – through the individual. To spread this quickly, while keeping the integrity of true human connection, he created the LYL community, with all the local communities run by their perspective volunteer hosts around the world.
He was a giver. Scott gave so much value on his website, in his posts, through his connections, presence, time – for FREE. He wasn’t a nickle-n-dimer – he even had the LYL T-shirts made available for the community to purchase at cost. He was endlessly generous with his kindness, smile, and energy. He could have made a lot more money, but Scott was more about the vision he had for the good of the world.
He was a healer. Our society is so broken because of the many layers of disconnection. Scott was all about real, heartfelt, human connection. He managed to create this intimacy on a massive scale. For those of us who fortunately meandered towards his work of light, we were rewarded with fulfillment of this basic, yet sorely lacking, human need.
In this past week, members of the LYL community worldwide gathered together online to grieve and comfort each other. It was how I was able to fall apart completely, but then pull through faster than I imagined I could at the depth that I fell. The community was a sieve that I threw myself into through this period of grief, and came out the other side with greater love, clarity, connection, and purpose. This was Scott’s work.
Finally, and most importantly, Scott Dinsmore was unequivocally a good person. One of my favorite quotes that I’ve held close to heart all my life was the Q&A from a reader to advice columnist, Marilyn Vos Savant, for The Washington Post, way back when I was a kid:
“Q: How do you tell between Good and Evil?
MvS: You give it power.”
Scott had brains. He had charm. He had connections. He was in a position of power and influence. He could have only spoken or given real time to those who could amp up his career, but he treated every person like gold. He hoarded nothing, tried to help everyone have a leg up whenever possible, and responded to each connection with full engagement and exuberance.
This gift of thorough and authentic goodness is what makes Scott a legend. He is a leader by sheer example. I am so grateful to have been given the chance to know and connect with him at any capacity, because the fruit does not fall far from the tree, and every branch that Scott nurtured will bear fruit of the same light, joy, and healing that Scott’s spirit embodies.
“Even if you decide you want to stay off grid (and you deserve happiness in whatever form you choose), the seeds have been planted for so many people because of you….I want to thank you for keeping me inspired through your own greatness of simply being who you are. The stuff that has been coming out of that is bonus.” (From my last email to Scott, just before he went off the grid.)