This year I participated in Vancity’s Leadership and Exploration Development (LEAD) program with 90 other leaders from across the credit union. It has been a transformational experience. One of the things that made the journey enlightening was writing a letter to my future self – in January I penned a letter to Future John about what I hoped to accomplish during the experience, put the note in a sealed envelope for the program’s coordinator, and last week I received, read and reflected on the letter. Here’s what I learned from writing a letter to my future self.
Freezing time
It was super-interesting to time-travel back to January and listen to Past John’s take on the world, what was to come, and how focusing on cultivating some very specific habits would make a positive impact on me as a leader in work and life. Artifacts like this one are cool resources that shape our personal history – reflecting on what my perspective, style and purpose was 10-months ago was interesting, validating and heartwarming, too. For example, while it was a professional exercise, I finished the letter reminding myself that my family is the most important community-unit in my life and that I can always count on them for the right kind of energy during the ups and downs that a leadership journey brings with it. To say the least, I counted on them a lot this year.
Write your goals
According to neuroscience, when we write down our goals we are creating opportunities for our ideas to be stored somewhere, like a piece of paper, and for our goals to be encoded in our brains because when we write things down they’re more easily accessed by the hippocampus. Forbes’s Mark Murphy argues that: “Writing things down doesn’t just help you remember, it makes your mind more efficient by helping you focus on the truly important stuff. Your goals absolutely should qualify as truly important stuff.”
Foresight / Hindsight
Such a reflective exercise blends foresight (what did Past John predict and/or hope to accomplish?) and hindsight (what does Present John think of Past John’s goals and foresight?). I predicted that I wouldn’t achieve a career opportunity and that I’d need to cultivate some grit to accept things beyond my control. Both of these things happened and I feel confident with how I’m dealing with them today. I also created the framework for establishing some new habits that focused on listening and being on time. Recent feedback from friends and colleagues reflects my progress on codifying these habits in my life, so it’s fair to say that Past John had great foresight to set these goals and Present John can be satisfied because hindsight shows that these were the right habits to build.
Historical letters
Abraham Lincoln wrote a lot of letters. He didn’t send a lot of them because their purpose wasn’t to shift someone else’s point of view, but to more deeply understand his own. Historian Doris Kerns Goodwin explores this very thing in her latest book, Leadership in Turbulent Times, and she shared some excerpts of it in a recent edition of HBR. I love her take on Lincoln’s penchant for writing “hot letters” as a means of transforming his anger into understanding:
When infuriated by a colleague, Lincoln would fling off what he called a “hot” letter, releasing all his pent wrath. He would then put the letter aside until he had cooled down and could attend to the matter with a clearer eye. When his papers were opened at the beginning of the 20th century, historians discovered a raft of such letters, with Lincoln’s notation underneath: “never sent and never signed.”
Such forbearance set an example for the team. One evening Lincoln listened as Stanton worked himself into a fury against one of the generals. “I would like to tell him what I think of him,” Stanton stormed. “Why don’t you?” suggested Lincoln. “Write it all down.”
When Stanton finished the letter, he returned and read it to the president. “Capital,” Lincoln said. “Now, Stanton, what are you going to do about it?”
“Why, send it, of course!”
“I wouldn’t,” said the president. “Throw it in the waste-paper basket.”
“But it took me two days to write.”
“Yes, yes, and it did you ever so much good,” Lincoln said. “You feel better now. That is all that is necessary. Just throw it in the basket.” And after some additional grumbling, Stanton did just that.
Nothing in my letter was infuriating (or because I was infuriated); however, I did ask myself some questions about what I was doing to take control of my career by gathering the right kind of feedback from the right folks.
Inspire what’s next
Having the perspective of Past John has also helped how to define what comes next in my work and life. For example, one of the questions that I asked Future John in my letter was: “what’s feeding your soul now?” Professionally, my answer to this question has changed, which is pretty understandable given the transformational learning experience that I shared with colleagues in Bologna, Italy this summer. Reflections from such a deep exploration of the Emilia-Romagna region feed my soul more than they ever have before, so my purpose is a bit more co-operative than it’s ever been. Also, the feedback – critical and inspirational – that I’ve received about my habits and goals is certainly driving my development in positive, leaderful ways, too, which affirms the excellent purpose of this letter-writing exercise.