February 27, 2023
Dear Leland,
Last week I took you on a ‘dads and kids’ ski trip with some college friends of mine. Overall it was a pretty special week of exploration and connection. You and I bonded tremendously, and we both thoroughly enjoyed our time with friends.
Today I want to talk about some observations I made on this trip; first specific to me, and then applicable to you.
Self reflection
I was pretty anxious getting to the airport. I’m a nervous flier in general. You were a champ: cooperative, helpful, and curious. I really enjoyed the flight with you. You helped keep me calm and centered.
I was even more anxious the night before we skied. Heck, anxious doesn’t cover it: I was afraid. I’m not particularly good at skiing, and skiing can be dangerous. I was worried about my ability to protect and take care of you. There wasn’t much to do with the fear other than acknowledge it, accept that I was afraid, and appreciate that it was there to keep us safe. Ultimately, that fear reminded me that I shouldn’t push either of us too hard, and that we should slow down and prioritize enjoying ourselves over everything else (in particular: trying to achieve a targeted proficiency in skiing, and/or helping you catch up so that you could ski with your friends).
This was your first trip skiing, and you wanted me to teach you (rather than entering ski school). Given my own limitations as a skier, I suspected this would impair your learning curve, but I sensed that you would enjoy the trip more this way, so you and I stayed together the whole trip.
Of course, skiing is hard, so you got frustrated many times. And there were times where I got frustrated with you. Fortunately, thanks to my practice, I was able to recognize that my frustrations were ultimately internal (frustration with my ability to teach, concerns that I brought you into a situation where you wouldn’t have fun), which helped me limit the extent to which I took those frustrations out on you (by yelling at or otherwise attempting to punish you).
Observations of and suggestions for you
While skiing, you fell proactively countless times. Even if you didn’t sense danger, if you sensed that something was about to be too hard, you fell on purpose (though I’m not sure you recognized it was on purpose) to avoid falling during the anticipated hard part. At first this disappointed and frustrated me: you weren’t challenging yourself to attempt the hard parts, which over time limits growth. And then I recognized that I too have a tendency to resist challenges. You and I are alike in this way: sometimes we’d rather fail proactively than earnestly try and fail; our egos can be too fragile to handle failing when we are giving our best efforts, and so we keep ourselves inside our comfort zones.
You are too young to understand this now, but eventually you will want to learn that failing in order to protect your ego is ultimately self-defeating. You inhibit your growth; ultimately the impacts of those inhibitions compound exponentially, leaving you far short of your potential. Practice awareness of when you are ‘failing proactively’. Assess whether you would rather protect your ego or maximize your learning and growth. And if you try earnestly and fail, practice acceptance that your disappointment is useful: it encourages you to try again, to practice your skills, to develop the determination and grit you need to reach your full potential.
Of course, like me, you are also proud and competitive. So you did your best skiing when your friend joined us. That was when your fear of failure was outweighed by your fear of embarrassment. Fortunately, you can leverage your pride and competitiveness to your benefit, for example by making normally individual goals competitive. Unfortunately, your pride and competitiveness will only take you so far in life. Pride and competitiveness are aspects of the ego, and are ultimately hollow sources of fuel. They can take you far, but you will eventually want to find more sustainable sources of fuel like love, connection, curiosity, and growth-for-growth’s sake.
You and I share a deep desire to avoid negative emotions (fear, sadness, and disappointment in particular). I have learned, at the expense of much suffering, that suppressing negative emotions really doesn’t work: the negative feelings don’t go away, they merely get buried in our psyche, and then attempt to resurface over and over, while we resort to an escalating set of tools to keep them suppressed. Rather, negative emotions are meant to teach us. They expose us to dangers we might not otherwise identify, they give us opportunities to understand ourselves better, and (when processed healthily) enable us to live in congruence and feel fully alive.
You will be enormously tempted to avoid fear, sadness, and disappointment in your life (your brother, bless him, seems far more willing to be with and express his sadness, anger, and fear). I encourage you to build a community of friends, family, and coaches to help you understand where you are avoiding suffering, and then build healthy practices to face those demons and unlock the growth opportunities they are there to offer. You will live a fuller, healthier, more complete life if you do.
I love you,
Dad
Letters to Leland 