Happy Wednesday, OP Community.

I’m just back from family weekend at High Point University and it has me reflecting on my children, time, and life. As for time, it’s seemingly moving faster than ever. It was moving fast even before AI became all the rage.

I was deciding what I wanted to share in this OP… and I’m going to shift away from traditional Operating Partner content and moreso into learnings, business, and life.

Back in April, I wrote about my friend Alex and the note he left for his kid at school. I was inspired by his move and said then that i’d like to do the same… and ever since, had been thinking and writing that note.

In August, we moved David into his dorm. Well, my wife moved him into his dorm room as I was home sick with the lettuce bacteria illness. My wife took the letter I wrote and left it on his desk.

I've written a lot of OPs about AI this year. This isn't one of them. If you're here for agents and workflows, I'll see you in the next few weeks.

The letter wasn't about business. I made sure of that. It was ten things I've learned about life so far, written for an eighteen-year-old who is about to figure most of them out on his own. But when I reread it a few weeks later, I noticed that almost none of it only applies to college. A lot of it is stuff I'd want to say to the operators, founders and executives reading this. We just don't say these things out loud at work.

So here they are, lightly edited for an audience that isn't my son. He got the unabridged version which was a stream of consciousness from my heart... I spared you the extra pages.

1. Show up.
Go to the birthday. Make the trip. Attend the funeral. As you get older, everyone has an excuse not to show up, which is exactly why people remember the ones who do. People forget a lot of what you say to them. They rarely forget that you were there and that you listened.

2. Collect people, not just accomplishments.
I spend my days around people who model compounding returns for a living. The thing I've seen compound most reliably is relationships. Be the person who makes the intro, organizes the dinner, and stays in touch when staying in touch takes effort.

3. Stay curious.
Never get too busy or too senior to be fascinated by something. Go ridiculously deep on something nobody else cares about. I take macro photographs of watch dials and movements. Nobody asked me to and I do not make a dime because of it. Not everything needs to improve your résumé. Sometimes it's enough if it makes you happy.

4. Don't live by someone else's scoreboard.
I warned David about grades, internships, cars and social media. Adults have their own versions: titles, fund size, the LinkedIn feed (which is really just Instagram for people with 401(k)s). There will always be someone ahead of you. Someone will always have a bigger boat or a more expensive timepiece. Figure out what your scoreboard is and play that game instead.

5. Pay attention to how you treat people who can't do anything for you.
The assistant. The person at the front desk of the portfolio company. The junior analyst on the deal team. I told David that character is also what people remember you by. People remember the little touches, remarks, and smiles.

6. Never become too cool to care.
You'll meet people who mistake cynicism for intelligence and indifference for confidence. Don't become one of them. I would rather care too much and occasionally look foolish than stand on the sidelines acting like nothing matters. Be the person who gives a damn.

7. You're going to screw up. Own it.
Skip the explanation of why it wasn't your fault. Say "I was wrong." Say "I'm sorry." Then ask what you can do to make it right. Those sentences work in a dorm room. They work even better in a boardroom, mostly because you hear them there so rarely.

8. Do things before you're ready.
I've spent much of my career walking into rooms where I didn't know exactly what I was doing. Most people are doing the same thing. Some are just better at hiding it. Confidence rarely shows up first. It arrives after you learn you can handle what happens next. And get some sleep. I told an eighteen-year-old that. Many of you need to hear it more than he does.

9. Family is home base.
This is the one I wrote for myself as much as for him. Don't give the people at home whatever energy is left after work and the rest of the world have taken theirs. Give them some of the best parts of you too. My career may be what people know about me. My family is what my life is actually about. I try hard never to confuse the two. I don't always succeed.

10. Don't rush through this.
There will be a last night in the dorm, a last summer when home simply feels like home. None of those moments announce themselves as the last one. That's true at fifty, too. Take the picture. Stay another hour. Put the phone down.

One more thing from the letter, since the calendar makes it timely.

I told David that October would come. The newness wears off, things get hard for no particular reason, and you start to wonder if everyone else has it figured out. They don't. I told him to call us then, and that he doesn't need a reason.

Tomorrow is October. That's true for freshmen, and it's true for anyone in a new role, a tough quarter or a long stretch. If that's you, call someone. You don't need a reason either.

And if you've got a kid who just left home, call them too.

When I visited him this past weekend, he was proud to show me that my letter was sitting on his bedside table.

Be well, do good.
Darren