EPILOGUE

As I’ve said all along, when you live life according to The Lost Art of Connecting, you can make your life work and your work your life. It can all blend together into one big shining constellation, because it doesn’t quite feel like work when it’s meaningful. I laugh when people tell me what will be written on my tombstone: She got sh*t done.

Yes, that’s partially true.

But as the Beatles so famously sang, I did it with a little help from my friends. Because if you pay attention to and cherish the people you meet at those various pitstops along your life’s path, you will create enduring friendships. And if you are human, vulnerable, and kind—people will be much more willing to support you in the good as well as the more challenging moments. Remember, it’s so often the detours rather than the destination that matters most.

When I pause to take stock of the constellation of meaningful connections that I have developed in my lifetime, I feel enormous gratitude. For those who have guided and supported me, for those whom I’ve helped and connected, and for those that I’ve yet to meet. Each day, I feel those connections in my life. Phone calls, emails, text messages, online meetings, WhatsApp chats—they all nourish me daily. In the course of an average day, I hear from so many different people in my life. And each communication brings me a sense of joy and satisfaction. I feel as though the work we’ve done together and the relationships we maintain have meaning, for the world and for me, and that brings me a great sense of happiness and optimism.

As I end the writing of this book during month seven of working from home while living alone, I realize that my virtual connections have been my source of nourishment and tonic during this very peculiar time. They have truly been what has kept me moving forward, remaining hopeful, and continuing to stay focused. By way of closing, I hope to offer some last words of encouragement to stay on this path of service, connection, and valuing people over profit even when society is at odds with these values (to a degree—it all depends on the company you keep). We need that more than ever at this time in history.

It cements my philosophy of “my work is my life, and my life is my work”—in other words, everything I do with my time, every conversation, every relationship is going toward growing the business of my life. I remain steadfast that there is no line between work-Susan and home-Susan, which has allowed me to maintain a sustainable business through all its twists and turns, and is what keeps me confident about what’s ahead, but also rested and refreshed. I love what I do and feel inspired each day. I also value rest and relaxation, but my work and my social world are intertwined in extremely positive ways and my energy is rejuvenated each time I’m surrounded by those working in social impact and justice.

And perhaps that is the best advice of all: when you love what you do, and you love who you do it with—there really is no work at all.

So I’d like to amend my future tombstone inscription. I’d like to add a nod to the people in my life who’ve helped me, supported me, and are not just colleagues or coworkers, but friends. We got sh*t done.

Beryl Spector’s Recipe for Cinnamon Horns and Strudel

My late mom’s treats served at every one of her gatherings.