As you ski down that fresh powder in a rhythm, with tears of joy running down your face, you feel you are a bird flying, the snow is the clouds, and you are somewhere between heaven and earth, and all of it was worth it. You become one with the mountain, one with the air, one with all, and yet no one at all.
The powder would not wait, and you knew it. It was yours, and you needed to put your signature on it, in the tracks you would leave behind. The trees hid it from others, but you saw past them, past the cliffs you had to jump to get there, and maybe you had to climb a little first, your skis over your shoulder. And you just went for it.
A good trade, investment or deal feels the same, because you have built something that was not there before. When it is done honestly, with nothing hidden and enough left on the table for everyone to walk away satisfied, you do not feel the work behind it. What you feel in your body is pure joy at having created it, and the money that comes with it is a good thing. What matters most in the end is who we become because of it.
What made one person leave the crowd and fly alone, closer to the sky?
What if fear is a door opening to a greater version of you?
Do we teach our children to fly closer to the sky, or to queue for the ski lift?
What makes one generation create and the next one lose?
What if one of the greatest opportunities of our time is that more and more of the world’s wealth is passing to women, and it isn’t for philanthropy but for leadership alone?
Why does a sentence heard at the kitchen table at seven still make decisions at forty-seven?
In the big world of M&A, why would anyone pay a fortune for a business, only to sell it later for a fraction?