My story begins on a mid-July evening of 1972. I was 11 years old and as with every summer following my birth, July and August equated to being in Margate NJ, visiting my grandparents. 

I remember the day as if it were yesterday. It began and ended in typical August fashion. Sometime after breakfast, I would lobby my grandmother, Nana Mae, to collect me, my dinged-up yellowed (and now vintage) Hobie surfboard, and my blue raft and drive us east to the Nassau Avenue beach. I’d exhaust myself during the day, find my way to dinner and then each, sit with my grandparents in the family room and together we would watch television. Every day began and ended in similar fashion.

I remember the discipline of waxing my board each morning, the scent of Doctor’ Zog’s wax, and the textile feel of the build-up of the residue mixed with sand. But mostly, I can picture and still hear the call of the frothy waves who were daring me to enter their domain.

It’s an important first step, heading into the ocean. I waited for the breeze to guide me, and to accurately measure the size of the surf. I’d also take into account where the other surfers were. I’d ask myself where the best opportunity would be, given my modest skills and strength to struggle through rough surf, to catch the best waves for me. In surfing, you need to have enough energy remaining after plowing through the surf to be able to catch your ultimate wave du jour.

Critically, the educational undercurrent of surfing began to prepare me for the challenges and lessons that I would later face in both life in general and in business. Of the many bits of knowledge I was gifted to receive, one that has proven useful time and time again is learning how to pick the right wave.

When you’re surfing, you’re not looking to catch every wave, you’re just trying to find the right one that will give you the experience that you seek.

A smart surfer lets most of the waves go by – the ones that are too small, or the waves that you are not in position to catch. A surfer can paddle endlessly to no avail if she isn’t in the correct position and maintaining the proper momentum to catch the wave.

Little did I know the lessons learned on the Jersey shore would later serve me well in my businesses, and through many years as a trusted advisor to high and ultra-high net worth families around the world.

I thank my parents for schlepping me from central Delaware to South Jersey, my grandparents for watching over me all those summers, the strangers and friends who offered words of wisdom and a helping hand, and the Great Love of the Universe for protecting me from harm in the turbulent waves. There were far too many instances where I was in danger without realizing it.

I just wish I had known more when I faced my own tsunami in 2011.

That’s the year that I began liquidating equity in my insurance company. My partner and I started from scratch, he as a passive investor gifted with a heart of gold and a mind like a steel trap, and I with the fierceness and raw enthusiasm to take on the armies of the world. After a few years and building a billion dollars of risk capital, I expected to be retired in my 40’s.

Had we exited just a few months earlier, the experience would have been far different.

I had momentarily forgotten the importance of timing. Swept up in wave of entrepreneurial good fortune, I blanked out on the lessons that initially got me out the beach and onto the waves.

The lesson cost me dearly. 

Somehow, I missed my wave, mistakenly thinking that the summer actually was endless.