RIP Dave Hollis

Dave Hollis and his daughter Noah.

 I was punched in the gut recently when I heard the news that Dave Hollis had recently and suddenly passed away.  He was an influencer and writer and father (4 kids)  whose work I have admired for the past 4 years.   I never met him personally, but I consumed enough of his content (book, podcast, social media) that I felt like I knew him. 

Dave had apparently entered the hospital for heart related concerns, and despite his exercise and fitness regimen (he was a regular runner, and had recently competed in his first physique contest), something was apparently wrong and had gone undetected.  He died suddenly.

Read Dave's Obituary Here.

It’s a funny thing about Social Media— esp. when done well— you start to have a stake in the success and failure of people you don’t know.  They are talking in your ear, they seem personal to you, you feel like they are talking directly to you, and yeah, you get invested in them. And I certainly did with Dave.

Read my review of Dave's first book back in 2020, where I list the reasons why I like him so much.

I first encountered Dave when he was a guest on someone else’s podcast- Brad Wilson’s now defunct The Process.  In this podcast, Dave talked about personal growth, and how he decided to leave his job at Disney as the president of movie distribution- something he apparently excelled in, in order to become the CEO of his wife’s company, The Hollis Company.  

Dave had recently done a lot of physical work to compete in a physique contest. 
Could this have contributed to his heart problems that led to his demise?
(Photo from his facebook page)

I had never heard of his wife (now ex-wife) Rachel, but I was so impressed with him (and so much of the conversation I resonated with- esp. his discussion about why he left his cushy job at Disney to try something hard (his son asked him what he was afraid of, and he said “not fulfilling his potential”. BULLSEYE.)


  And his story about being a parent and a foster parent was also inspiring and amazing.  (And making your kids become self-reliant and take responsible risks)  I loved this guy from the get go, and wanted to seek out the rest of his stuff.   Which I did. 

I ended up reading his books (see bottom of this post for a list)  and subscribing to his instagram and listening to his and his wife's podcasts: 

START TODAY MORNING SHOW (which is, as the jingle said, "The Morning Show That No One Is Talking About."  This podcast was a lovely little nothing of a time with Dave and Rachel when they were together, and is still available online.  They stopped producing it a little before they announced their divorce.


RISE TOGETHER (which was a couples podcast, with Dave and Rachel, about how to have an exceptional relationship and live your best life.  After the divorce, Dave took it over and turned it into an interview show to try and understand other people's perspectives and walk in their shoes a little while)

Dave Hollis celebrating Christmas 2022 with his family (from his facebook page)

I also watched his YouTube series with his daughter Noah, called TeaTime with Noah, in which he tries to instill values in his 3 year old daughter while they are playing at tea.  Great fun, and a great example of parenting from the get go.  These are going to take on specific significance to Noah and the rest of their family in light of his unexpected death.  And it makes me think of the videos that I have with my kid and my family.

A sample episode of Teatime with Noah.  I recommend watching them.  They are great!  He also started writing a series of children's books based on his Teatime with Noah series. The first one had been released, and I don't know if any more are in the pipeline.

After his breakup with Rachel, Dave soon found new love with trainer/IG personality Heidi Powell.  Here’s a video done last year about their relationship which has also been tragically cut short. (And he talks a little bit about grieving his previous relationship, and talking about divorce and death .  Oddly prescient.)

I’ve gone back and listened to that initial podcast,  where I first encountered him, and it’s great, and sad to hear it again talking about their ultimately doomed marriage and Dave’s untimely death.  (At one point he talks about what will happen when he’s 80, and I am now remembering that was a favorite thing for him to say, and I’m really sad he’ll never get there.)

Dave had a surprisingly profound effect on my life-  his struggles with being a practical person versus having a “growth mindset” really resonated with me.  I remember a conversation he had with Rachel where he talked about being a naysayer to his wife about starting some new project (that ultimately went out to be very successful)  He was trying to be realistic, and practical, and in the process he ended up discouraging her instead of being her cheerleader.  That is a  struggle I know well.  (Only too well, as it turns out)

Dave also introduced me to the quote:  Ships are safe in harbor, but that’s not where they were built to be. (Which he later had tattooed on his body).   Like many other people before me, that quote speaks to me.  Risk is of course part of life, and it’s what we are built for.  But at the same time, I’m not the kind of guy that likes to run the sails higher than prudent, and lately I think I am even more conservative about things as I've gotten older.  And that runs contrary to the idea of enjoying life sensibly.

Dave’s death reminds me of how short and precious life is, and we don’t know what’s in store for us.  And I guess I need to get out of the harbor more often!

Rest In Peace, Dave.  

I’m thinking good thoughts for your family, and for your legacy, and acknowledge the effect you’ve had on my life.

Books by Dave Hollis

Built Through Courage BUY

Buy Dave's First Book

 

This was clearly meant to be a series of books.
 BUY

My Mom would have been 80 today.*

*Had she lived.

Today is/was my mom's birthday.  She would have been 80 today. *

This asterisk is the sad reality that I am still facing. My mom died 10 1/2 years ago, but I'm still wondering what my life, what our life would be like now with that asterisk.

I have been thinking a lot about that asterisk.  Over the last few years, there's been a lot of death of friends, and acquaintances.  My wife's uncle very recently died suddenly.  We saw him on Friday and on Sunday he was in a coma, and on Thursday he passed away.  Three or four friends around my age- died suddenly.  It's starting to be an occupational hazard.

I think about this with my dad too (who died at age 49 in a car accident.)  What would my life be like if he was still alive?  There are endless what-ifs of course, and ultimately there are no answers.  Because the fact is, you move on.  Even when it seems impossible.  You move on because you have to.  Life doesn't stop when somebody close to you dies.  It might seem that way, or even that you want it to stop, but it just doesn't.  You shoulder your burden, you shift your load, you cry your tears, and you keep on walking.  The river doesn't stop, your bills don't stop needing to be paid, your library books don't get infinitely extended.  Life goes on, and it's just that much harder.  As the French might say "C'est la Guerre de vie."  (It's the war of life.)

There's part of me that still grieves, and still wonders these unknowable questions. Questions that have an asterisk at the end. Questions like these:

My mom at my brother's wedding.

Would I be happier?*  It's hard to know. Certainly, a lot of the blunt force trauma that life has dealt me so far is about the death of my parents.  But I also feel it's made me a better person.  I remember that after my father died (when I was in acting school) my acting teachers and friends said that my acting and my attitude changed dramatically.  I wasn't suddenly a know it all. I was vulnerable, and I was able to show it.  And I don't feel tremendously unhappy.  But I do bear the emotional scars of life, and for better or for worse, they've made me the person I am today.

Would we be living in Chicago?*  We moved here to be closer to my wife's family. Would I have agreed so readily if my mom were still around?  I am really happy with our move, but could I have taken that step if my mom were still on the east coast.  I think so, and hopefully, she would have traveled to see us (or us, her.)

Would she have gotten sicker, and lost her joie d'vivre?*  My mom was relatively lucky.  She'd been told multiple times she had 6 months to live, and she beat the odds again and again and again.  When she finally did get sick, it happened suddenly.  She was ill and woozy and unresponsive. I happened to be staying with her for the evening, I called the ambulance, and they brought her into the hospital.  An hour or so later she was in a coma, and about 7 days later she died in her sleep.  She was deathly afraid of being a burden to us kids, and to being forced to live out a miserable existence in a hospital, or kept alive by machines.  It's not what she wanted, and fortunately, she got mostly what she wanted.  She loved to travel and to enjoy life.

Would she have been proud of my work?*  Almost certainly, yes, as she was proud of just about everything I ever did.  She would also be nagging me to do more, to teach at a university, to do something else.  Because she was never quite satisfied with what I did either.  She always wanted a little more. I'm ok with that.  She's probably right.  I could probably be more productive.  (a whole 'nother set of asterisk questions)

The one I ask myself the most is

One of the last pictures I have of my mom and me together.

Would she love my son? *
And this is the one that I know the answer to.  She never got to meet him (we got pregnant about 10 days before she died, but we weren't telling anybody.  And I was (I think) an unlikely father before that.  I think had she found out I was having a baby, she may well have had a heart attack!)  But the answer plain and simple is she would have adored him.  She would have doted on him, and bought him ice cream, and teach him to do crazy arts and crafts, and revel in his exuberance, and constantly marvel at how similar (and how different) he is to me when I was at that age.  My mom loved creativity and thinking different, and I know she would have loved my boy, who is now age 9 going on 16.

Most importantly she'd be listening to him, and challenging him, and helping to mold him into a better human being. Because that's who my mom was.  That's what she did.

My mom would have been 80 today*.  But she's still alive in my memories, and probably the memories of all who knew her and loved her.