Lionel Richie and the Wisdom of a Well-Timed Fall

A note to young leaders.

Flying high in April, shot down in May.

It’s remarkable how often periods of health, happiness and success are swiftly followed by periods of the exact opposite: illness, sorrows and failure.

It’s as though the universe is reminding us to not get carried away, to stay humble, to stay grounded.

In the mid-1980s, Lionel Richie stood at the peak of his powers, with a string of mega-hits like Easy, Hello, Endless Love and All Night Long. He had also just organised and co-authored “We Are the World” with Michael Jackson – a humanitarian anthem raising over USD 50 million for African famine relief.

The whole world adored him. He could do no wrong.

In that season of triumph, his father cautioned him: “Son, if you lost it all tomorrow, would you still be the same person? You haven’t been tested yet – and I worry about that.”

Lionel didn’t fully grasp it then – but within a few short years, life delivered the test his father had foreseen.

His father fell ill, and Lionel pressed pause on his career to care for him. His marriage collapsed in infidelity and public scandal. Then his father died. He spiralled into depression. Worst of all, his throat gave way – four surgeries in four years – with doctors unable to promise he’d ever sing again.

His very identity as a “good guy superstar” seemed to be slipping through his fingers: “I came about as close as you ever could come to a nervous breakdown”.

It was then, driving alone one night in LA, that he took the wrong exit off the freeway. A homeless man tapped on his window. Expecting a plea for money, Lionel rolled down his window, only to see the man beaming:

“I thought that was you, Lionel. Man, I just want to tell you that you’ve been a beacon of hope for me.”

Richie raised his car window and cried. He felt as though God had spoken to him through that stranger.

That was a turning point. Lionel’s voice healed, the crowds returned and the public adoration was even greater than before.

So, when you’re flying high and your “May” arrives – smile, you’re in candid company.