Forty has a funny way of making you honest.
Not because there’s anything magical about the number itself, but because milestones have a way of forcing us to stop measuring where we’re going and start measuring where we’ve been.
Some people celebrate with a party. Some buy a sports car. Some pretend it doesn’t matter at all.
And then there are people like Josh Zolin.
Listen to the full show here – https://rhydonatzenhoffer.substack.com/p/life-begins-at-40-lessons-in-leadership
Instead of trying to outrun the milestone, he sat down and wrote forty lessons he’d learned over forty years. Not because he’d figured life out, but because he wanted to know whether he’d actually been paying attention while he was living it.
As someone who’s only a few months behind him, I found myself asking the same question.
If I stopped long enough to write my own list today… would I be writing lessons… or just memories?
The older I get, the more I realize how easy it is to spend life chasing the next milestone. The next promotion. The next customer. The next business. The next opportunity. We become so focused on what’s ahead that we rarely stop long enough to ask whether the person chasing all those things is actually becoming someone worth becoming.
That was the conversation Josh and I ended up having.
Not about turning forty.
Not about building a business.
Not even about writing forty lessons.
It became a conversation about paying attention while we’re living our lives instead of waiting until they’re behind us to figure out what they meant.
And somewhere in the middle of that conversation, I realized something.
Reflection isn’t about looking backward.
It’s about making sure you’re still headed in the right direction.
Would Younger You Be Proud?
Somewhere around twenty years old, most of us started making quiet promises to ourselves.
Someday I’ll build something that matters. Someday I’ll provide for my family. Someday I’ll make a difference. Someday I’ll become the person I know I’m capable of becoming.
Then life happened.
Careers. Marriage. Kids. Bills. Success. Failure. Before we know it, we’re so busy building a life that we stop asking whether we’re actually becoming the person we promised ourselves we’d become.
That’s why Josh’s original post resonated with so many people. It wasn’t a list of accomplishments.
It was a list of lessons.
There’s a difference.
Accomplishments impress other people.
Lessons change you.
Early in our conversation, Josh smiled and admitted something that completely reframed why he’d written the post in the first place.
“It was not content. It was a reflection.”
That simple distinction says a lot. In a world that constantly encourages us to produce more, post more, and move faster, Josh chose to slow down long enough to ask whether he was actually learning from the life he was living.
That’s a habit worth stealing.
It’s also one of the reasons this conversation felt so relevant to the #TradeCrew. We spend a lot of time in our industry talking about technical training, certifications, and mastering the next piece of equipment. Those things matter. But the longer I’m around this trade, the more convinced I become that we’re really in the business of developing people.
Josh said something during the episode that perfectly captured that idea:
“Kids today want to change the world. Why aren’t we introducing them to the industries that actually build it?”
That’s what we do in the trades.
We don’t just install HVAC systems, frame a house, install plumbing fixtures, lighting, appliances, hang, mud and finish sheetrock, paint, roof or any and all of the trades it takes to keep this world turning. What we accomplish as tradesmen and tradeswomen is deeper than the surface level of what we do.
We build homes people raise their families in. We keep hospitals running, schools comfortable, data centers online, and businesses open. More importantly, we build people. Every apprentice we mentor, every technician we encourage, every young person we invite into this industry has an opportunity to build a life they’ll someday be proud to reflect on.
I don’t think we remind ourselves of that nearly enough.
The Person in the Mirror Is Still Growing
Josh never spoke as though he’d figured life out.
If anything, he went out of his way to make the opposite point.
“I certainly haven’t mastered these lessons. They’re just things I know I need to keep coming back to.”
The older I get, the less interested I become in people who claim they’ve arrived. I’m far more interested in people who stay curious, continue asking questions, and aren’t afraid to admit they’re still learning.
Maybe wisdom isn’t reaching a destination.
Maybe it’s recognizing there will always be another lesson waiting around the next corner.
We Usually Suffer Twice
Somewhere in the middle of the conversation, Josh referenced one of Seneca’s observations that has survived nearly two thousand years.
“We suffer more in imagination than we do in reality.”
I don’t know about you, but I can think of plenty of moments where I lived through something a hundred times in my own head before it ever happened. Starting a business. Changing careers. Having difficult conversations. Re-launching the HVAC R&D Podcast as a solo venture. Walking away from opportunities that no longer aligned with where I believed I was supposed to go.
Most of the suffering happened before reality ever showed up.
How many dreams have we quietly talked ourselves out of because we’d already convinced ourselves how the story was going to end?
That’s a question I’ll probably keep asking myself for a long time.
Freedom Usually Looks Like Fear First
As our conversation continued, Josh shared another thought that fit perfectly with everything we’d been discussing.
“Freedom lives on the other side of discomfort.”
I don’t think that’s just true in business.
I think it’s true in life.
Every meaningful opportunity I’ve had started with something that made me uncomfortable. Speaking into a microphone for the first time. Sitting across from guests I deeply respected. Leaving familiar jobs. Taking chances on ideas that didn’t come with guarantees.
None of those decisions felt comfortable.
Most of them felt terrifying.
Looking back now, I’m grateful I didn’t mistake discomfort for a stop sign.
Sometimes it’s simply pointing us toward the life we’re meant to build.
Learning to Laugh at Who We Used to Be
Not long after we’d been talking about some of the heavier chapters of life—including the loss of Josh’s sister-in-law and my own experience losing a sibling—I asked him a question that wasn’t meant to be profound at all.
I simply wondered what twenty-year-old Josh would think if he met forty-year-old Josh today.
Without missing a beat, he smiled.
“Probably that I have a beard.”
We both laughed.
Looking back, I don’t think either of us needed comic relief as much as we needed permission to smile again.
That’s one of the things I’ve come to appreciate about conversations like this. The deepest ones aren’t heavy from beginning to end. They breathe. They make room for joy right alongside grief, because that’s how life actually works.
The more I thought about Josh’s answer afterward, the more I realized there was another lesson hiding inside the joke.
Twenty-year-old Josh couldn’t picture forty-year-old Josh.
Twenty-year-old Rhydon couldn’t picture me either.
Life has a funny way of taking us places we never planned to go. We outgrow ideas. We change our minds. We discover new passions. We lose people we thought we’d have forever. We find purpose in places we never expected.
If we’re fortunate, we eventually stop beating ourselves up for who we used to be.
Instead…we smile.
Because without that younger version of ourselves making mistakes, taking chances, and occasionally looking foolish, we wouldn’t have become the people we are today.
Sometimes growth sounds like wisdom.
Sometimes it sounds like laughter.
I think we need both.
Closing Reflection
Episode 189 will stay with me for a long time, but not because Josh turned forty.
It reminded me that reflection isn’t about celebrating the past or regretting it. It’s about paying attention to it. If we never stop long enough to understand what life is teaching us, we risk spending decades collecting experiences without ever collecting the lessons.
As our conversation came to a close, I found myself thinking less about Josh’s forty lessons and more about my own. Not because I want to publish a list someday, but because I want to know that when I finally stop long enough to reflect, I’ll recognize the person looking back at me.
Maybe that’s the real purpose of milestones.
Not to celebrate another year.
But to pause long enough to ask whether we’re still becoming the person we once promised ourselves we’d be.
Because twenty-year-old me had some pretty big dreams. Some of them I’ve accomplished. Some of them I’ve completely outgrown. Some turned into things I never could have imagined.
And a few…I’m still chasing.
Maybe that’s exactly how it’s supposed to be.
One day, if I’m fortunate enough to get there, sixty-year-old me will look back at the life I’m living right now.
I hope he won’t remember every accomplishment. I hope he remembers that I kept becoming. That I kept learning. That I kept asking better questions. And that I never stopped trying to become the man that twenty-year-old Rhydon believed was possible.
The story isn’t finished yet.
There’s still another chapter to write.
I just hope it’s one worth reflecting on.
Stay grounded. Keep grinding.
Ramblin’ Rhyno, out. Peace Y’all.
Want to keep the conversation going? Check out our latest episode of the HVAC R&D Podcast or check out the resources in the HVAC R&D Resource Hub and remember that you’re part of something bigger. Follow the Ramblin’ Rhyno Column for more reflections on the trade, or contact us to share your story.
