I know this is a bold title — but hear me out. It’s a story about a man you’ve definitely heard of… but maybe didn’t really know. A man who made one powerful decision before his death — and it changed the nature of his life and the life of his child.
Hey Mindvalley family,
Something has been hitting me hard lately — in the best, most gut-punching kind of way.
My son Hayden is turning 18.
My daughter Eve just finished primary school. High school is next. She still slips her hand into mine when we cross the street — but I can feel the clock ticking on that too.
I’ve spent years building a company that helps people transform. I’ve stood on stages, meditated with monks, interviewed billionaires and brain scientists… And yet nothing has brought me face-to-face with the raw, trembling truth of life like this:
My biggest moments with my kids are happening right now — and soon, they’ll be gone.
They won’t leave my heart, of course. But they’ll leave the daily dance of our lives — the bedtime stories, the inside jokes, the random conversations about Marvel movies and TikTok memes and God knows what else. The ordinary magic that vanishes without warning.
And I can’t stop thinking about a story I recently heard — one that stopped me in my tracks.
It was shared by Warren Farrell, a bestselling author and renowned thinker in men’s work. I’ve never met him personally, but the story he told is one I’ll never forget.
The story of Warren and John (a true story that happened in the late 1970s)
A night at a party, a stranger with a story
Warren was attending a party in New York — a Ms. Magazine celebration for its fifth anniversary. He had promised to meet with Gloria Steinem there, and as he entered, he made eye contact with her across the room. She was surrounded by admirers. He wasn’t. But he started working his way toward her.
Suddenly, a man stepped up and asked,
“Are you Warren Farrell?”
Warren replied, “Yes.”
The man smiled.
“I joined the men’s group that you started, but you always start the groups and then leave them and go on to something else like the Lone Ranger.”
Warren admitted that he was being a bit dismissive at first — self-aware enough to recognize it — because he was trying to make his way to Gloria.
But then the man said:
“I gave up my job and focused full-time on raising my son because I had previously, you know, neglected a previous son that I had. And I really felt I made a mistake doing that.”
That stopped Warren cold. Now he had Warren’s attention.
Warren then turned fully to him and asked gently,
“Were you married?”
The man nodded:
“Yes.”
Warren followed up:
“Was your wife okay with this? Because a lot of women are very supportive about their husbands being more involved with their children, but they’re not very supportive about the husband taking off full time, earning no money, and being involved with children.”
He looked at the man and asked,
“Were you earning a decent living before?”
To which the man gave a quirkish smile and said:
“There were two things that were crucial. One was the support of my wife. And the other one was the support of the men’s group.”
At that point, Warren said,
“Now I’m just forgetting about Gloria. I’m sitting down with him, and for the next hour he tells me about how meaningful his life has become since he’s been raising his son. And how enormous value that’s been. And has been the best decision he’s ever made in his life.”
The man told Warren that
“his soul opened up, and his heart opened up,”
and that he’d had a lot of issues with his own father —
“and those seemed to be healing in a way that he had never healed before.”
Warren sat there, no longer a speaker, no longer a feminist leader, no longer trying to meet anyone at the party. He was just a man being spoken to by another man, sharing something real — something rarely voiced in that era.
About an hour into the conversation, someone approached their table.
“Can I have your autograph?” the young man asked.
Warren looked up, mildly surprised.
“Yeah sure, just one second,” he replied, excusing himself to handle the request.
But he noticed something odd. The young man was looking at him awkwardly.
Warren paused and said,
“Okay… something’s happening here.”
The man shifted uncomfortably and said:
“Well actually, I do really want your autograph… but I really was actually asking for the other guy’s autograph.”
Warren turned to the man he’d been speaking to, now feeling a rising curiosity.
“Well… what’s your name? You must be fairly well known.”
The man replied:
“I’m John.”
Warren:
“I’m Warren, you know that. Well John who?”
He said,
“John Lennon.”
Let that sink in.
Warren had just spent an hour ignoring Gloria Steinem to have a heart-to-heart with the most famous musician on the planet… and didn’t even realize it. Warren admitted he hadn’t owned a TV in over 20 years and wasn’t up to date with popular culture.
But here’s the part that gets me — the part that hits me like Hayden’s birthday and Eve’s graduation rolled into one:
Even at the height of his fame, the thing John Lennon wanted to talk about wasn’t music or money or global peace. It was fatherhood.
The greatest decision of his life, he said, was stepping away from it all to raise his son.
Now, consider this.
John Lennon’s first son, Julian, was born in 1963 — at the height of Beatlemania. John was 23 and largely absent due to the storm of fame.
But his second son, Sean, was born in 1975.
John left the music industry entirely for five years — from 1975 until his assassination on December 8, 1980 — to raise Sean full-time. He called himself a “house husband.” He baked bread. He changed diapers. He walked his son to school.
He gave those five years everything.
And then, just as suddenly as he appeared to Warren, he was gone.
Five short years of presence.
But five years that John Lennon himself called the most meaningful of his life.
My personal reflection
As I reflect on this story… as I look at my son on the edge of adulthood and my daughter stepping into her next chapter, I find myself asking:
Am I giving them my presence, not just my protection?
Am I showing up for their souls, not just their schedules?
Am I willing to pause the world… to be with them, fully?
Because in the end, legacy isn’t what you leave behind.
It’s what you leave within the people who loved you most.
And maybe, just maybe, the quiet choice to be a better father is the loudest message we’ll ever send the world.
So here’s the point
If you’re a parent, stop reading this for a second.
Go hug your kid. Even if they’re annoyed. Even if they roll their eyes.
One day, that moment might be the memory that holds them together.
Because in the end, the biggest legacy we leave isn’t the company we built, the followers we gained, or the awards we won…
It’s the invisible, soul-sized mark we leave on our children’s hearts.
John Lennon knew it.
Warren Farrell witnessed it.
And now, I’m walking that path too.
Are you?
PS – Read the lyrics for the song John Lennon wrote to his son Julian in 1980 shortly before he died. (Poetically, the song ends with a quote from Émile Coué and José Silva.)
Before you cross the street
Take my hand
Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans
…Beautiful boy
…Before you go to sleep
Say a little prayer
Every day in every way, it’s getting better and better.
Share your reflections
I’d love to hear how this story and these insights resonate with you. Leave me a comment below — I read every single one.
To your extraordinary life,
— Vishen
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Featured image credits: John Lennon, Yoko Ono and Sean Lennon at the Dakota building, NYC. December 12, 1975. Image #: C-06 © Bob Gruen
254 Responses
I am well familiar with the tale of John Lennon’s “awakening” and dedication to fatherhood in the final 4-5 years of his life. As his own son nears the age of 50, it appears his father’s attentions have left an indelible loving impression. I am thus so heartened for you, Vishen, that the coin has dropped, the light has gone on, and that you’re experiencing a similar realization involving the miracle, joys, and privilege of being a father. I revel in your revelation and wish you and your family love & mercy always.
I am a woman, I am a CEO and I ahv 2 kids… I know exactly how it feels. I now go and hug my son 🙂 Thank you Vishen
Too much I loose myself in my work… when they ask me “can you come to bed with me…” and I still have to finish something else. Very touching !
This one really got me. I was a stay at home mom for the first three years of my child’s life and then had a very high conflict custody battle. We have 50-50, but dad has spent the last 8 years poisoning my son against me, terrorizing me, and causing chaos. I’ve had to work a lot to survive and dealing with his dad’s constant torment and upheaval in our lives has taken a lot of my energy. I feel so guilty that my son’s childhood has slipped away when the only thing I wanted was to be a mom. My boyfriend is much older and we don’t know if we can have kids, and right now, I just feel like I’m dying inside. All I wanted was a happy family. Thank you for sharing your thoughts on parenthood. This is actually something I would like to hear more from on the MindValley platform. And especially domestic abuse, divorce, and parenting under difficult circumstances. What does manifestation even look like when you can’t stop your abuser?
I’ve been going through the same thing for the last 10 years and it’s still not over. Just be there for your kids and try to spend quality time with them. It doesn’t have to cost much money just build wonderful memories. When your son is older and in his own relationship he’ll understand exactly who his parents are and he’ll love and appreciate you.