Letters to Leo

A father’s reflections written for my son, shared with you.


What life is trying to show you.

A reflection on the people who shape us, the conversations we avoid, and the quiet signals life places in front of us. A reminder to stay open, pay attention, and trust what feels alive.

Dear Leo,

Every so often, someone enters your life and leaves it slightly rearranged.

Not because they tell you what to do. Not because they arrive with all the answers. But because after speaking with them, the world feels a little more alive.

I have a friend like that.
She’s become a mentor too.

She’s one of the most influential children’s authors in the world. A space I dream of being part of. But it’s not just what she’s achieved. It’s how she sees.

She has a way of making me slow down and look again. At people. At timing. At the invisible threads connecting things.

Some people carry a different kind of wisdom.

An artistic kind. A philosophical kind.

She believes everything is energy, either flow or exchange. That when people truly connect, something passes between them, understanding, courage, imagination… even healing.

And the older I get, the more I think she might be right.

I’ve started to notice it in conversations.

There’s a moment sometimes where things begin to get real. A bit uncomfortable. A bit more honest. And often, that’s where people pull back. Change the subject. Keep things light.

But I’m beginning to think that’s where the real stuff is.

I read a book a while ago called The Obstacle Is the Way, by Ryan Holiday. The idea is simple, but it stayed with me. 

That the difficult part, the bit people tend to avoid,  isn’t in the way of the path. 

It is the path.

Lately, I’ve been thinking that life has its own kind of rhythm.

A quiet beat beneath everything. A timing we don’t always hear, but somehow feel.

And that rhythm seems to guide us. Toward the right people. The right conversations. The right moments.

Not always when we expect. But often when we’re ready.

And I’ve started to wonder if the universe places things in front of us. 

Not loudly. Not obviously.

But a person. An opportunity. A moment that doesn’t look like much at first, but carries something in it. A message.

Sometimes we miss it.
Sometimes we recognise it, but don’t take it, because we’re unsure, or afraid, or too focused on a different outcome we had in mind.

But I’ve learned to pay attention when something feels like that. To listen a bit closer. To trust it a bit more.

Because I have a feeling those moments are rarely random.

I think they’re part of your story.

There will be times in your life when the path ahead feels unclear.

Times when you’ll want to grip tighter.
Force things to happen.
Push against the current.

But some things are found through effort.
And some things are found through attention.

Learning the difference may be one of the most important things you ever do.

I think life is always speaking to us.

Through instinct. Through coincidence. Through people who enter our lives at just the right time.

Your job isn’t to force every path open. It’s to stay open enough to notice which path is opening for you.

Stay supple. Stay curious. Stay quiet enough to hear what your instincts are saying, before the world talks over them.

Because instinct whispers first.

And if I’m honest, the things that stay with me most aren’t my failures.

They’re the moments I recognised something… but too late.

I think we all miss things like that. But I hope you miss fewer than I have.

I hope you trust what feels alive.
I hope you notice the people who expand your thinking.
I hope you let wonder interrupt your plans sometimes.

Because some of the best things in my life didn’t arrive because I chased them.

They arrived because I was present enough to meet them.

There is a strange comfort in believing life is not only something you build, but something you can collaborate with.

That the universe is not indifferent, but responsive.
That when you move with honesty and openness, something often moves toward you too.

Maybe that sounds a bit mystical. Maybe it’s just another word for trust.

Either way, I want you to practice noticing.

Notice what pulls at your curiosity. Notice the people who make you feel more yourself. Notice what your gut knows before your mind catches up.

Follow those things. They might be ‘life’ pointing.

Always,

Daddy x

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