Whether you formally script or it unfolds naturally, your journey through life has four stages, all beginning with the letter “L,” as depicted above. Yes, great model, all clean and concise, working on paper as everything does. Yet, when is the last time you had the luxury of hitting the “pause” button to reflect on your journey? My God, during the COVID-19 pandemic, who was assessing what life stage they were in? Rather the doom and gloom question at that time was “Is life over?”

Anyway, as I take keyboard in hand for this column, I am engaging in a bit of introspection, struggling to answer the following question: Am I now the oldest middle-aged guy or the youngest old guy? Of course, I vote for option A. Then again, this morning, I did celebrate that I got my second leg in my underwear without stumbling into the dresser! You see, I remember at one point in my life journey enjoying the status of being the youngest. The youngest on the industry committees, the youngest at the conference, the youngest manager, and the youngest owner at the age of 28. Couple this with at one time being a young father and eventually a young grandfather. 

The day we are born, whatever your faith, the almighty power flips what will be the hourglass of your life. Over time, as we get older, the sand seems to fall faster and faster, and of course, everyone doesn’t get the same amount of sand, nor are we told how much sand (time) we have. You awake one day at one of life’s mile posts 40 or 50 or 60 shocked by the epiphany of “where have the years gone!” Well, they went to raising children, building a career, growing a business, buying homes, sending kids to school, and eventually, perhaps navigating your parents’ health. In other words, to the question of where have the years gone, the answer is time has gone to this thing called life. However, while nobody wants to get older, except perhaps the 16-year-old seeking parental liberation, there are some advantages. 

In particular, your legacy is/should be established in your family, your life and your organization. People in your world are off running and standing on their own. They need you less, and that’s OK because that’s the manifestation of your own efforts. You’ve prepared the successful successorship and stewardship in your family, in your organization, in your life. In effect, good or bad, your legacy is established. While they need you less, it doesn’t mean you’re not valued or respected. It’s just that you are needed less. If the grandkids are young enough, perhaps they still worship you. If you are in this window, enjoy as it’s open for a very short time. At some point you can no longer secure their adoration with ice cream for breakfast. 

You should at a certain point in life be able to recapture some long illusive personal bandwidth. In teaching the capstone class at Northwestern University, I am the students’ last touch point. With their graduation imminent, I ask how they will fill their newfound bandwidth post-graduation. If they don’t strategically pre-meditate how they will fill this new capacity, it will just be absorbed by life. Thus, a strong motive to anticipate and plan for such. Likewise, as you get deeper in life, that new capacity should allow time for reflection on that life lived to date. Of course, irrespective of age, we were robbed of the last few years through the pandemic, where in effect, we were all pulled into a real-life game of whack-a-mole navigating one problem after another, after another.

However, while I acknowledge the pandemic reality, I quickly compartmentalize to move on to a bigger or, if not bigger, at least a more immediate priority; that being a time to reflect upon your life journey. In particular, the opportunity to recognize and acknowledge those who made it possible, those who encouraged, supported, facilitated and challenged you along the way. At times applauding and at times scolding, but always with a legitimate interest in you and your success. Those are the people worthy of your Mount Rushmore. Of course, Mom and Dad, for without you simply would not be. Yet are they not the same people that gave you those siblings. Some who continue to annoy you well into adulthood! So aside from family, who are those four life influences that are worthy of your own Mount Rushmore? 

At some point, perhaps now, is the opportunity to reflect on who those people who made it all possible. Then, by all means, show them this column with a personal note attached, telling them they are on your Mount Rushmore. Imagine being able to identify these people, but even more so, being on the receiving end of knowing you were that person in someone’s life. 

“The two most important days in your life are the day you are born and the day you find out why.” — Mark Twain