In Memoriam

This past week, my friend, colleague, and coach, David Peterson, passed away. 

David had a storied career, including being the Director of Executive Coaching and Leadership at Google for many years and the Chief Transformation Officer at 7 Paths Forward. We connected as members of the original Marshall Goldsmith 100. 

I grieve for the love of his life Alexis, his family, and his closest and dearest friends.

But I want to express my personal appreciation for him, and for what I learned from him because he was not just one of the most influential coaches in the world; he was my coach. He had the ability to be direct while also making people, or at least me, feel like I was important, like I mattered to him and mattered in the world. One of his frequent messages was that when we are learning something new, we may try to perform when, really, we just need to learn.

I feel the sadness we customarily experience at the passing of someone who has been influential in our lives, someone we admired and respected. There are songs that will go unsung and lives that will go untouched because David is no longer among us. It’s always a poignant reminder that time is our most unrelenting constraint, and that all of us have to make choices. None of us can sing every song or touch every life. We select from an array of options before us, but every choice in favor of something is equally a choice against other possibilities. 

I also know that David was suffering from poor health, fighting a really tough fight, and having stroke after stroke. So, I feel relief on his behalf, and also feel that he is relieved. Because it is my belief that though we pass away, who we are still exists in the universe, and we will have a reunion one day made all the more meaningful because of the season of separation.

David was our guest on the podcast in May 2020. As I look back and reflect, one of the unique things about David’s episode was talking about his youthful dreams. How growing up in a very small and rural Wisconsin community, he imagined the larger world, and read about it (he believed he had read half the books in the little public library, sometimes reading two books a day during the summer school break).

So, he had this very broad but vicarious exposure to the world, as he grew up in a largely homogenous blue-collar town, with narrow—seemingly—opportunities. He could hardly imagine places like London and Paris, or even New York City; doubted he would ever get to see those places, but thought it would be the pinnacle of experience to go to NYC one day. Of course, he ultimately traveled to those places, and many, many others, many, many times.

He wanted to be a scientist until he wanted to be a rockstar, and he wanted to be a rockstar until he realized he didn’t have the talent. But music was always a great love, and influence. In more recent years, he realized that all the music he listened to was familiar and beloved. So, he started listening only to music new in the last few months. In that way, he discovered amazing musicians previously unknown to him and many songs he liked, but also many he didn’t. But the exercise was fulfilling and satisfied his curiosity and also his desire to be learning and growing, never stagnant.

I could say more, of course. I hope you’ll visit or revisit David’s podcast episode in memory of this really good man. He had other very valuable things to say about leadership, life, and personal growth. 

Rest in peace, David Peterson.