Letting go is hard to do. Our reptilian brains have evolved over three billion years predisposing us to accumulate, save, and survive at any cost.

Facing the end of life is perhaps the most difficult act of letting go, which is why it often constitutes our final chapter. In the interim, life provides plenty of opportunities to practice the art, wisdom, and pain of moving on, whether they be the loss of childhood innocence, dreams, and loves, along with everything else that besets us due to time, war, fires, floods, pandemics, and economic upheavals.

As the 71-year-old Thomas Jefferson explained to an even older John Adams, “Our machines have now been running for 70 or 80. years, and we must expect that, worn as they are, here a pivot, there a wheel, now a pinion, next a spring, will be giving away: and however we may tinker them up for a while, all will at length surcease motion.”

Over time, I have grown accustomed to enduring, and sometimes even embracing, significant losses, trusting that the end of one chapter marks the beginning of another. I believe that as the universe abhors vacuums, a loss in one area translates to a gain elsewhere. To illustrate, I voluntarily left my country, culture, language, and family in my teens confident that whatever I might have lost would be more than regained in America. Subsequent painful setbacks like a divorce, health issues, and economic challenges prepared me to emulate the example of George Washington, to voluntarily relinquish power to my son Dustin, knowing he is well-prepared to take the reins.

As many of you know, nearly five years ago Dustin and I started what we had hoped to be a smooth transition of power, to spare the Club from becoming a soap opera (think Yellowstone and Succession). Despite certain unexpected challenges, like the pandemic, Dustin and I look back with pride at our progress to date, confident that the final goal, already 90% achieved, is well within reach.

As any restaurateur can attest, no kitchen, no matter its size, can thrive with two head chefs. I have always advised Dustin that “power is not given, but must be taken,” thus outlining the final phase of our transition.

At the end of his meeting with Jim Collins, the author of Good to Great, Bill Gates asked Jim if he thought Microsoft is a Built-to-Last company. Without hesitation, and I am paraphrasing here, Jim told Bill, “Microsoft is not a company; it is a genius with thousands of helpers. We will only know if Microsoft is Built-to-Last after you are gone.”

— Sina.