Yesterday, I was invited by a neighborhood friend to a women’s softball game in Austin. Our team won. The highlight of the day was our conversation driving to the game where we talked about mortality and reminisced about our lives. My friend Stephen said, “I’m content.” That conversation inspired this blog.
As I think about my four+ decades in healthcare, I realize I’ve spent much of my life chasing the next challenge. There was always another project to lead, another organization to serve, another problem to solve, another opportunity to make healthcare a little better. Looking back, I wouldn’t change much.
I’ve been fortunate to serve remarkable organizations in both the private and public sectors, working alongside extraordinary people, and now have the privilege of teaching future healthcare leaders. Those experiences have shaped my perspective and enriched my life. Along the way, I discovered a lesson I wished I had learned much earlier. Contentment is not a destination. It is the foundation that allows us to keep growing, serving, and becoming. Contentment is not found in taking the journey, but in appreciating the journey itself.
In college, I read what Marcus Aurelius wrote. “Very little is needed to make a happy life; it is all within yourself, in your way of thinking.” With each passing year, those words become more meaningful to me. I’ve seen leaders who possessed immense influence yet were never satisfied, and others whose greatest wealth was the gratitude they carried with them every day.
As I’ve grown older, I’ve also come to understand that my greatest accomplishments aren’t recorded in my CV. They are found doing life with my wife, at family gatherings, in conversations with lifelong and relatively new friends, and in the quiet moments that remind me how fortunate I’ve been.
As a child, I was blessed with a loving family that gave me a strong foundation. Later in life, I was fortunate to marry an extraordinary woman with whom I shared two remarkable daughters. Tragically, she died by suicide, a loss that forever changed the lives of our daughters, our extended family, and me. During her high school valedictory address, Audrey, our younger daughter, captured the weight of that heartbreaking year with words I will never forget, “This is the year I had to confront mortality.” Tt was a powerful lesson for me and the tearful audience.
Years later, I was blessed again when I married Barbara, an extraordinarily caring, kind, and gifted soul. Through our marriage, I gained not only a wonderful partner but also an amazing gift son and gift daughter, and I became part of another loving family. I have never cared for the term “stepchildren.” To me, those two children, both adults at the time, have always been gifts, people who entered my life not by chance, but by grace. Looking back, I realize I have been privileged to belong to three extraordinary families, the one in which I was raised and the two that welcomed me through marriage.
Today, one of my greatest joys is watching our family continue to grow, especially through my 4 grandchildren. They remind me that life’s richest rewards are measured in love, laughter, shared experiences, and the privilege of watching another generation discover the world.
The Jewish sage Ben Zoma asked, “Who is rich?” His answer is wonderfully simple, “One who rejoices in what he has” (Pirkei Avot 4:1). He wasn’t speaking about wealth at all. He was talking about perspective. Real richness isn’t measured by what we’ve accumulated but by our ability to recognize the blessings already surrounding us.
The Apostle Paul wrote, “I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances.” (Philippians 4:11, NIV). Contentment doesn’t simply happen. His important message is that contentment can be learned. For me, it has grown over time through gratitude, humility, setbacks, losses, failures, successes, and perspective.
That doesn’t mean I’ve lost my ambition. Anyone who knows me understands I still enjoy solving difficult problems, encouraging innovation, teaching and mentoring leaders, and imagining what healthcare can become. I hope I never lose that passion because improving the lives of others remains one of my greatest motivations.
But today, I no longer confuse achievement with fulfillment. The Dalai Lama said, “Happiness is not something ready-made. It comes from your own actions.” He also said, “My religion is kindness.” I have a paperweight on my desk that reminds me daily, “No act of kindness no matter how small is ever wasted.” I’ve come to believe that contentment grows from engaging in acts of kindness, serving others, showing gratitude, investing in the people we love, and spending time with friends and others who enrich our lives.
Life has taught me that careers are important, accomplishments are satisfying, and recognition is appreciated. But when I reflect on the life I’ve been privileged to live, it isn’t the titles that come to mind first. It’s the people.
For me, contentment, one of life’s greatest gifts, is knowing that I have been loved, that I have loved in return, and that I have been given the blessing of being part of three extraordinary families. Everything else is simply icing on the cake.