My son turns three years old this week.

Over the last few months, I've grown increasingly excited by the idea of writing him a series of letters he can read as he grows up.

My hope is that they serve as a compass for his journey (and maybe for anyone else who happens to read them).

What follows is the first letter he'll read...

To My Son Roman, on Your Third Birthday —

You won’t remember this day—but I will.

Before you were born, I didn’t understand love. At least not the true depth of it. Sure, I had loved, but nothing like this. Nothing this pure. Nothing this elemental.

Holding you for the first time, I had a profound sensation:

I had spent the first 30 years of my life trying to find the meaning and purpose of all of this. Then one day, it was staring right back at me.

My grandmother, your great-grandmother, once gave me a poetic piece of advice:

Never fear sadness, as it tends to sit right next to love.

In a broad sense, she was offering that the most beautiful things in life exist on a razor’s edge—the good right next to the bad. You cannot hide from the latter and hope to experience the former.

Carl Jung once echoed this sentiment, writing, “No tree, it is said, can grow to heaven unless its roots reach down to hell.”

My desire to insulate you from suffering, from pain, from struggle is, quite literally, hardwired into my DNA. I can feel it in every ounce of my very being.

But I know there is no greater disservice I could do to you.

To shield one from struggle is to shield them from character, from growth, and from joy.

You can’t earn the good without confronting the bad. They dance together in a beautiful symphony—on that razor’s edge your great-grandmother knew all too well.

So, instead of attempting to provide a perfect map to what lies ahead for you—which, to be honest, would be foolhardy to think I could create, though many before me have tried—I will offer instead this compass.

You won’t always know where you are—you will struggle, fall, fail, and hurt—but if you keep this compass close to your heart, I am confident you’ll end up where you are meant to be.

And more importantly, you’ll find meaning and joy in the journey along the way.

First, always take yourself seriously.

If you aren’t going to take yourself seriously, why should anyone else?

Stand tall. Walk with confidence. Make eye contact. Take care of your body and mind. Be present. Listen closely. Speak with intention. Bet on yourself.

The way the world treats you is a simple reflection of the way you treat yourself.

Always carry yourself like your life matters. Because it does. When you do that, the world will start bending to your reality, rather than the other way around.

Never, ever give up your agency.

Pretty soon, you’re going to fail. I’m not sure what it’s going to be, but it’s going to happen. Up until now, your mom and I were there to catch you, but someday, you’re going to fall, and we won’t be.

It’s going to hurt. You’re going to feel lost. You’re going to feel confused. You’re going to feel betrayed.

Complaining, blaming, pointing fingers—none of it will get you anywhere worth going.

The terrifying reality: You are in control. Of everything. It's all on you. Nobody is coming to save you.

But one thing I can promise: You are entirely capable of climbing back all on your own. You are entirely capable of squeezing everything you want out of this life. Of doing hard things. Of figuring it out. Of meeting your responsibilities with energy and enthusiasm.

You are at the wheel. Never let go.

Find and embrace your meaningful struggle.

Hard things don’t get easier, you get stronger. You grow. You change. You become different.

And if you show up for long enough, somewhere along the way, you might even uncover a struggle you find meaningful. A struggle you can fall in love with. Joy in chaos. True flow. The hard-earned win.

That's where you find the magic of life.

Take pride in your reliability.

My grandfather, your great-grandfather, had a wonderful saying:

You'll achieve much more by being consistently reliable than by being occasionally extraordinary.

You can get pretty damn far in life by just doing what you say you’re going to do. Be someone people can count on to show up and do the work. Reliability is the cheat code.

Show up, do the work, repeat. That’s it.

Have the courage to question the defaults.

Throughout your life, you will encounter certain "truths" that are only truths in the sense that they've been repeated so many times that people accept them to be true.

It takes courage to question these defaults in a world that profits from your acceptance of them.

But the best things in life sit on the other side of the questions you dare to ask.

Remember that life is less about what you're doing and more about who you're doing it with.

You can't force people into your life. Stop chasing. Stop trying to change others to fit your vision.

As Mario Quintana once wrote, "Don't waste your time chasing butterflies. Mend your garden and the butterflies will come."

Focus on your garden. Become the type of person you'd want in your life. When you do, the right people will find you.

And with the right people, the journeys become lighter and the destinations far brighter.

Be kind when no one's watching.

Anyone can play a role when the lights are on. They smile as they shake the hand of the CEO, only to ignore the janitor on the way out the door.

You are not anyone.

You are a person who treats the waiter with sincere, genuine respect. You are a person who puts their shopping cart back. You are a person who shows up for a friend in their darkest moment. You are a person who buys a hot coffee for the person standing in the cold.

Be kind and generous to everyone around you. Not because you want credit for it. Not because someone might take notice.

But because your character is defined by who you are when no one's watching. That is who you are. That is your destiny.

Create the space for curiosity to thrive.

You're so curious about the world. Everything is new, exciting, fresh.

There's a common belief that curiosity declines with age. I disagree. Curiosity doesn't fade, but the space to engage it does.

Make time to get lost in things that have no obvious utility to your life.

What you'll find is that the non-obvious utility brings an improbable texture into your world.

And above all else, love your mother fiercely.

She loves you more than anyone else in the entire world—even more than me.

There is nothing in the world like a mother's love. It's a love that you cannot possibly understand. A love that you cannot break, no matter what.

And that is a love you have a duty to respect.

There may come a time when I'm not around. If that ever happens, I want you to take care of her. I want you to cherish her, just as she cherishes you.

As long as you have your mother close to your heart, you'll always be ok.

A few weeks ago, you crawled into bed next to me in the middle of the night. I heard you quietly say something:

"Sleep next to Dada my best friend."

It was the best moment of my life.

I hope you know what those words meant to me. That they'll echo in my head until my last breath. And while you'll grow up and probably have other best friends, you'll always be mine.

I love you, my son. Happy birthday.