Who will you be? How will you live?

What do you want to be when you grow up?

It’s a question I’ve heard all my life — first directed at me, then at the next generation. It usually expects a job title, something neat and impressive. But what if the better question is: Who will you be? How will you live?

That question shaped my whole adult life.

I didn’t follow the path that promised financial security. I chose work that mattered to me — work that felt purposeful, even if it paid less. I lived in church houses because that was part of the job. And when that phase ended, we had no choice but to rent. For ten years, we moved house almost every year — always packing, always starting again — because landlords sold or moved back in. It was exhausting at times. But it also made me light on my feet, clear about what mattered.

I kept studying, not for credentials or status, but for the love of learning, and the desire to grow. Tuition fees, long nights, hard work. It was all part of saying yes to the kind of life I believed in.

Now, toward the end of my working life, I look back without regret.

We don’t have much in material terms. We won’t retire rich. But we’ll have a simple home, enough to live on, and the deep satisfaction of knowing we lived by conviction, not convention. It was worth the risk.

That’s the thing we rarely tell young people: that the risks we take for love, for meaning, for integrity — they don’t lead to failure, even if they don’t lead to wealth. They lead to a life you can stand in. A life you can be proud of.

Rothko once said that the art of living is an adventure into the unknown, possible only for those willing to risk. I believe that. Not all risks are loud or dramatic. Some look like saying no to the safe job. Or yes to more study. Or choosing presence over pressure. Or a life built on trust that meaning matters more than money.

We measure success in all the wrong ways. We obsess over grades, salaries, property. But the real markers of a life well-lived — character, connection, joy — don’t show up in those metrics.

So when young people say they want more than just a job — when they say they want to be kind, to find meaning, to live with purpose — I believe them.

And I want them to know: it’s a risk. But it’s a good one.

It’s worth it.


Finally, a letter to the next generation:

Dear Jordan,

Success isn’t about following a strict formula or achieving someone else’s idea of greatness. It’s about becoming the best version of yourself and living a life that is meaningful. It’s less about grades, titles, or trophies, and more about the qualities that make you whole—kindness, curiosity, courage, and connection.

Success means learning to ask good questions, take risks, and grow from your mistakes. It’s about finding what sparks your passion and pursuing it with joy. It’s also about building relationships that matter—being a good friend, showing care for others, and knowing someone has your back as you move through life.

The things that matter most—being healthy, loving deeply, staying curious, and making a positive impact—can’t always be measured. They unfold over time, shaped by the choices you make, the people you meet, and the challenges you face.

So don’t worry about having it all figured out. Success isn’t a finish line—it’s the journey of becoming who you’re meant to be. Take your time, take risks, and trust that you’re growing in ways that matter.

You’ve got what it takes.

With belief in you