The first time I entered your inbox with this Sunday missive (some of you may recall that fateful day) was 8 years ago this week, in honor of Valentine’s Day 2014.
At that time, it went out to a small group of family and friends (a VERY small group) …but I maintain that it was small and mighty.
It’s only gotten mightier over time…and on February 14th every year, I remind myself where I’ve been…where I am…and where I’m going (with all of you in mind as my online family).
And always inspired by two special hearts that are never bypassed on V-Day.
If you are one of that small group who has been with me from the beginning, hit me with an email so I can acknowledge you.
Some of you did last year but now it’s time for the rest of you to “register” and be counted. 🙂
The “stars” (i.e., hearts) of that first blog are two guys who were very important in my life then…as they are now…although we have lost both of them (in a physical sense, that is).
Fortunately, they both left a massive body of wisdom—one of them took over 80 years to amass that body while the other did it in about half that time (and inside a much smaller body too)—and both bodies are worth celebrating, especially on Valentine’s Day.
Once again, I will celebrate the lives of Marty Edelston (V Day was his birthday) and Sean Stephenson (to whom V Day meant much more than a Hallmark holiday based on how Sean lived and loved).
That 2014 post featured a quote from Sean, who is a miracle of a human being, and the quote will be revealed once again today.
But first, a little more about these two magnificent hearts.
Marty and Sean
Marty is an entrepreneur and publisher with superior wisdom in many areas; Sean is a “coach for public speakers,” also with superior wisdom in many areas.
They are also both responsible, in different ways, for this weekly blog, and for much of what I do every day as a direct marketing educator, writer and speaker.
Marty Edelston, Boardroom Inc.’s founder (and my mentor) gives me the content for almost every post (in some way) based on our adventures in direct marketing over 34 years.
Sean gives me permission to “let my freak flag fly.” He is the gold standard as a role model, a world-renowned speaker, and a phenomenal life and personal coach…and someone anyone can talk to anytime about anything.
Both were also dear friends and trusted consiglieres.
Sean not only gave me the “content” (i.e., “the quote”) for that initial post in 2014 but more importantly, he gave me the courage that I could do this “blog thing” on a weekly basis.
And I have featured him every year on (or around) February 14th.
Unfortunately, by the time I started my Sunday ramblings in 2014, Marty had passed away. But I had enough “inventory” from him to last a lifetime.
And this is the third year I am sending my V-Day post without Sean in the world as well. We lost him tragically in August 2019.
Both left holes in my life and in my heart forever…and in the lives and hearts of everyone they touched. And those holes should never be bypassed.
Thank goodness they left a paper, digital, and video trail so we never forget the immense contributions of either one of them.
Marty’s prowess was established mostly pre-Internet (despite contributing a nice sampling of digital assets in the way of interviews in his later years) …and thankfully we have almost every piece of direct response and editorial copy he ever edited.
I also saved a correspondence file—a priceless archive– with almost everything we shared with each other in writing over 3+ decades.
That file is simply labeled, “Atta boy.”
Marty was tough…but never too tough to give acknowledgments for work well done.
That “Atta Boy Folder” is alive and well and it sits on a dedicated shelf in my office (because it doesn’t fit in a drawer or a file cabinet), with good news and bad, and lessons for a lifetime.
Marty also discovered Photoshop in his later years and I found the picture below he had “commissioned” but never got a chance to hang it in his office before he died.
It now hangs in my office in a prominent location:
Sean, on the other hand, left many more “digital assets” (in addition to a wonderful book)—including a course or two, dozens of keynote speeches, and a wealth of philosophical rants, teachings and playful “stunts” on social media (including an occasional “dance party”–see below).
My “greatest hits” with Marty are mostly documented in Overdeliver…and I encourage you to pick up a copy to get more of the “Marty lessons” I learned that are yours for the taking.
Living them was a gift to me…sharing them will hopefully be a gift to you.
As far as “Sean lessons” that I learned, I will give you some of those here.
Sean Lessons (with “assists” from Marty)
One of Marty’s favorite expressions is:
“You only go through life once so you might as well be the world’s best”
Sean was up to that challenge.
He was the best at so many things despite his “disability.” (Open loop)
After my stroke in April of 2019, he was the first person I called once I got home from the hospital because I knew if there was anyone who could help me work through the struggles I was dealing with from the shock of it all it would be Sean.
He did just that.
Because Sean had a shocker of his own at birth.
He knew all about the struggle I was going through because his life was a struggle every day–well, at least in the eyes of everyone else.
He never complained and he used that struggle to persevere in ways that are simply unimaginable…with wit, humor and profound introspection.
To everyone else he was handicapped; to Sean he was “just Sean.”
Talking with him was the beginning of my recovery (which sounds awfully selfish).
Why would he want to bother with my superficial problems (yes, a stroke was superficial in this context) when he had many more serious problems in his own life?
And why would I seek counsel from someone for whom “recovery,” in a traditional sense, was never possible?
Maybe there was nothing for him to recover from in the first place.
Or for me either.
He made me see that in no uncertain terms.
That’s what made Sean a rare bird.
As I said previously, Sean had a “disability” …but only in the eyes of everyone else…not to Sean.
He often said he wouldn’t change his “container” for anyone else’s if given the choice.
At birth, doctors didn’t know if Sean would even live—he had a rare bone disease and just sitting up could cause his bones to crack.
He was confined to a wheelchair but that never stopped him.
In 2009 The Biography Channel produced a documentary film about his life called, The 3 Foot Giant. The title says it all. Click on the link for a 9-minute excerpt.
He became the world’s best patient (and observer) at a very young age—then later on, became a doctor himself (he earned a PhD in psychology)–defied the odds—and turned his handicap into something useful…and incredibly powerful.
His life’s mission:
“To rid the world of insecurity”
One of Marty’s missions was not as clearly stated, but it is related:“
To help consumers overcome their insecurities regarding the trappings of their lives.”
Marty did this through his publications and promotions, pointing out the flaws in common institutions, and being a “bloodhound” and “protector” for consumers.
Sean worked on his mission from the perspective of his wheelchair.
It’s too bad Sean didn’t have another 50 years to continue his mission–but he made his mark in the years he had.
Sean’s childhood was difficult but he remained observant of everything around him–and throughout his life he used all of that difficulty, and the challenges he faced, in his speeches and coaching.
That’s why I called him first when I left the hospital.
He encouraged me to get over it by turning my stroke into an asset rather than feeling sorry for myself with specific action items that I implemented.
He was speaking from experience.
Sean was a master at flipping these emotions around…and he was particularly adept at doing it on video for a much wider audience.
He did “One Minute With Sean” Facebook posts–and this one on “Doubt” is very insightful (and it only will take a minute to watch it :):
Did you notice that he gave this advice to himself before he gave it to his audience?
It doesn’t take a PhD to do that—just empathy and humility of the highest order.
The PhD is just gravy.
That’s the power of a great coach—someone who knows his or her frailties and can share them with others as an example—and then expands the discussion by telling you how he or she deals with them.
Sean’s front stage was also his back stage—he was not embarrassed about his situation and in fact, he was proud to show it off.
He also had a wicked sense of humor.
I’m talking about belly laugh humor.
It’s not surprising that Sean was playful in many of his videos–his “dance parties” are some of my favorites.
Here was the first one from 2010 that got that party started:
This was the first of many “Dance Party Videos”—and this maiden voyage has over 1.3 million views.
He mentions in later videos that he had “haters” who didn’t get him or what he was really doing—too bad for them–which just compelled him to dance even more.
He covers in future Dance Party Videos such things as taking ourselves too seriously; getting our groove on (for momentum); the simple step of acting a little silly (and the power of laughter); and about not being embarrassed about our bodies.
In that last one, he instructs us to look in the mirror while dancing until we love ourselves.
Once again, he used his “container” as a strength and not a weakness—he never felt sorry for himself—and when he said Get Off Your But (the title of his book) you got off your but…and your butt.
Sean loved himself and he loved everyone.
Which brings me to the quote from Valentine’s Day 2014 (and every Valentine’s Day since):
“I love everyone because as soon as I don’t love you, you own me”
The lesson from this quote is simple:
When we spend our energy not loving someone, we willingly hand over our power (and more than likely, our confidence) to them.
But if we work on eliminating the things in ourselves that keep us from loving others, what’s left is just love for others…and power…and a big dose of gratefulness.
And of course, confidence–with no doubts–about who we are.
Sean knew exactly who he was—thank goodness for all of us.
I think he would love these “Sean socks” which were created as a tribute to him:
I can hear and see his belly laugh right now.
I wear them proudly in my regular rotation of socks.
Just like I check my “Atta Boy Folder” regularly.
Sean and Marty…strange bedfellows on the one hand, two peas in a pod on the other.
Happy Sean Day.
Happy Marty Day.
Happy Valentine’s Day.