Miami native Isaac Lidsky likes to say losing his sight gave him his vision.

Lidsky's retinas started deteriorating when he was 12, and he was blind by the time he turned 25. But that didn't stop him from graduating from Harvard at 19, earning his law degree and going on to clerk for retired U.S. Supreme Court Justice Sandra Day O'Connor in 2008.

“I applied four years in a row,” Lidsky, 38, said. ”I used to joke that I was going to keep applying until I was older than the youngest justice.”

Former Supreme Court clerks are already a distinguished group, but Lidsky adds his own distinctions: Not only is he the only blind person ever to clerk for the court, but he is also one of few who decide to leave the legal profession afterward.

The majority of those who clerked from 2005 to 2015 now work for law firms, with government and academia attracting most of the rest. But those paths were not for Lidsky, who was a child actor and co-founded an Internet startup, X+1, shortly after college. It later sold to Rocket Fuel for $230 million.

“I never would have imagined doing anything for 40 years or, frankly, even 10,” he said. “I still don't.”

Lidsky was a Third Circuit clerk in Philadelphia and worked as a Justice Department lawyer. But he found himself “pretty unhappy” once he made the jump to Big Law to work at Akin Gump Strauss Hauer & Feld, he said. His wife, Dorothy, gave birth to triplets in 2010.

A career coach helped Lidsky realize he wanted to run a business, and in 2011 he decided to leave his Manhattan job and join his former college roommate in buying a struggling Orlando construction company to see if they could turn it around. At first, it didn't go so well.

“Dorothy and I spent a lot of time discussing my metaphysical discontent with the practice of law,” Lidsky said. “Four or five short months later, we were contemplating bankruptcy and talking to her parents about potentially moving in with them with our then 1-year-old triplets. In those days, it certainly seemed I had fallen into the 'grass is always greener' trap and maybe the practice of law wasn't so bad after all.”

A thought came to him: What would Sandra Day O'Connor do?

“She's really someone who lives the idea that we should do the deeds that need to be done, not spend a lot of time on drama or wallowing or wishing for what might have been,” he said. ”Instead, roll up your sleeves and get to work. That was very helpful to me in sort of steadying my nerves and keeping my focus on trying to rescue our business.”

Nowadays, ODC Construction Co. is a $150 million company — but, true to form, Lidsky is shifting gears again. The Windermere resident handed over the reins of the company and wrote a book, “Eyes Wide Open,” about what his life's journey taught him about shaping one's own reality. The book's release in March sent Lidsky around the country to talk to businesses about his vision.

When Lidsky stopped in Dania Beach for Berger Singerman's BusinessTalk in October, firm co-chair Paul Singerman found himself inspired.

“The most powerful takeaway for me from Isaac's talk was a feeling of almost embarrassment when I find myself dwelling on problems or feeling sorry for myself as a result of the ups and downs of my law practice,” Singerman said. “Because the adversity with which Isaac has dealt and the incredible manner in which he has overcome that adversity and succeeded in the face of extraordinary challenges is quite impactful.”

It must have been “extraordinarily hard” for Lidsky to exit the law after being so successful, but it's important for lawyers to realize that passion is a key ingredient to greatness, Singerman said.

Lidsky said he knew even as a Supreme Court clerk — where he also did work for Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg — that his mindset wasn't exactly the same as the other clerks.

“My passion was for the institution of the court and its history and its inside baseball, whereas most of my colleagues, I thought had a real passion for the law itself and, in particular, for a chosen legal philosophy or jurisprudence,” he said.

Because he's left the law, Lidsky declined to comment on whether diversity among clerks affects the court's decision-making. He is the son of Jewish immigrants from Cuba and grew up watching his father, now-retired Miami lawyer Carlos Lidsky, arguing cases.

As for his blindness, Lidsky said it didn't present any real obstacles during his clerkship. With help from library and technology staff, he got digital materials that software would read to him at his chosen speed. Lidsky can absorb about 700 words per minute, whereas the average person reads 400 words per minute, he said.

Lidsky said he knows it might sound odd, but going blind was one of the best things that happened to him. His blindness made him understand that so much of what we tell ourselves about “reality” is an illusion. That, Lidsky says, is his vision.

“It is ultimately not really about blindness or even disability, it's about the ultimate power we have to decide who we want to be and how we want to live our lives,” he said. “All the self-limiting instincts or reflexes we have that can get in the way of us manifesting our best selves — if we want to bring effort and discipline and purpose to our lives, we can overcome those self-limitations.”