Letter To A Friend #1 - Leaving What Is Safe

Introduction To The Letter To A Friend Series

Like most of us I imagine, as I look to 2023, I’ve been considering where my energies are best used. I’m fortunate to have a full roster of clients (though I’m always open to a compelling new project or person in need of support), I’m settled in my new country of Portugal, and I have a long list of friends that make my life beautiful. So where does the “extra” professional time go? For me, that is writing. I’m currently working on three things: my next book to be delivered as a podcast, a big-screen movie script, and this LinkedIn newsletter.?

I’ve been slow to write here of late. On the one hand, I love to share whatever insights I am coming across in my world and work. But it’s so… one-sided. I write, you read. There’s a connection with a handful of people through the comments, but otherwise, it can feel like writing into a void. Even though I have nearly 70,000 subscribers, I’m much more interested in meaningful conversation. But it is what it is - the limitation of the medium. So we will have to get closer in another way. I wonder… and am willing to experiment... what if we get more personal?

To attempt this, I am going to be writing a series of “letters to a friend.” These are real friends - all conscious leaders in their own way - who are struggling. The letters come from real conversations we have had about those struggles. I can’t mentor the world, but perhaps I can offer a little more than just another newsletter, with a little more than news…?

Join me? This week, I’m writing to a friend who is trying to leave a good life for a better one. When we get to the end, I hope you will let me know if you can relate, or if you have words of advice for my friend.?

Dear Joe (name changed, of course),

I loved our conversation last week and it’s kept me thinking about you. A few thoughts have come to mind, so I thought I would share them here with you… and the world at large. As you know, take only what fits… and also know I’m always writing to myself as well.?

So you want to leave a lifestyle and relationships you’ve spent 60 years making. And you also don’t want to lose what you have. Isn’t that always the challenge??

You feel comfortable but caged. You’ve done the majority of what you thought you came to do, at least work-wise. Early retirement was meant to be a signal of success, but you feel too young to be playing golf every day. You feel you are wasting your privilege and don't like whining about things - yet something is deeply unsettled. You’re thinking a lot about death, but not in a morbid way. In that pragmatic, realistic way that I adore about you.?

We talked about our mutual friend Paul, who died this year, at the early age of 55. A horrible death, we both agreed. Yet you envied that “the inner struggle” was over for him, whereas you wake up each day still holding it. Something like holding your breath, you said.?

So here is what I’ve been thinking since we talked…?

You never retire from life, so long as you are living. You might retire the jersey, get the gold watch, and all that. But that is your work identity. Even with your kids successfully launched, it is hard that your "Papa" identity is now relegated to weekend calls and holiday gatherings.?

I wonder, what if you were to drop the identity of a worker entirely? Forget being a retired worker, a former worker, and even a worker who is so "fortunate" as to retire early. Forget "Papa" for a minute, too. When you drop all that - what is left??Who is left?

I can almost hear you saying that this has already happened - but has it? Are you carrying that old identity just because it’s all you have? Have you consciously approached this transition? Have you looked closely at who is still standing? Do you feel any degree of confidence that he is someone of worth? Because I know him - I know you - you are worthy.??You know that, too, deep down. That's why it's so hard - you have gas in the tank and it's killing you (hopefully not literally).

You said your behavior is getting “a little risky.” You are starting to be drawn to drinking a little too much, and too often, and the impulse is coming too early in the day. You’re resisting, but it’s harder and harder. And then there’s that attractive woman at the gym who seems interested, not caring about your obvious wedding ring. It would shake things up, and so far, you only think about it wistfully. But again, a little too much.?

Here, too, you can be more conscious. You can think about Jill (name changed, his wife) and where you are now with her. You love her, or at least that’s what you’ve told me and everyone else all these years. But you don’t talk about her with love. To be honest, you have more passion in your voice when you talk about your car. (Ouch, I know.)

Like early retirement, you’ve dreamed the good life dream with her. But now that you both have it, you said there’s not much to talk about. The future feels looming, and even though she is supposed to be your best friend, you have no idea how to tell her how you are feeling. She shuts you down, and you are sure she wouldn’t understand. She never has, when you’ve tried to share your deeper self, which you admit to being clumsy about. I won’t argue with you on that, but I will ask…

Is there something else you might risk - either with Jill (now or never) or another new wise friend? A risk that might not immediately, unconsciously signal that you are trying to blow up your life? Or maybe even better, could you consciously blow up just a part of your life? What if you started talking about the deeper things with your golf buddies? They will likely just make a joke, but see who comes up to you after, saying he’s felt much the same. I bet someone will.

Here’s the truth: Every day, you are allowed to think new thoughts, and revisit old ones, even if that threatens other people who want you to be who you have always been. You get one life, at least as you-as-Joe, and at least so far as we know.?

You also said you want to leave a legacy beyond the work you have put in - but it is work you say almost anyone could have done. So to do that, you’re going to have to think about the work only you can do... now. For example, anyone with decent writing skills can write a book or movie - but only I can write MY books and movies. No one else has my voice, my style, my humor… What is in your life that is only yours? If you can answer that, it’s a worthy quest.?

Or maybe you really do want to blow up your life. If so, do it well, kindly, clearly, and carefully.? Not unconsciously - you’re too solid and good for that.

Here is what I have learned: When the ego has had its day, the soul speaks up. And when the soul speaks up, the soul always wins. You can’t keep a lid on this without stuffing too much down - like Paul always did. And by the way, Paul isn’t lucky to have checked out early. He’s here in memory, showing us both what we’ve got left.?

Finally, count on your friends. Your real friends, like me. Count on Jill if you can, and if you can’t, spend some sober time thinking about it and make a decision. A conscious decision. If you decide you really do want to start over without her, it’s okay to pack your bags. Just do it well. A lot of us have, and our kids have survived, and even grown from it. It’s a thousand times better than the stick of dynamite the woman at the gym is holding.?

I guess that’s all I’ve got for now. I hope it’s not too preachy, and there is something of use. For what it is worth, I think you are magical and far from over.?And I think the world needs your authentic self. Use all that privilege and take some good risks. Be the leader you have always been. We will all be better for it.

Much love, Robin?

(SIDE NOTE: If you like these letters, let me know in the comments. The next letter to a friend is to Sheldon, who is in deep grief.)

I'm Robin Rice,?an author, mentor, and senior advisor?in conscious leadership.?I work at the intersection of our professional lives, personal relationships, and social impact. Please connect with me here on?LinkedIn ?or through my website at?RobinRice.com .