Mails Reps
Kallid sõbrad
Olen saanud kümneid ja kümneid küsimusi pea iga päev- et miks ma ei räägi? Olen tõesti pea 5 aastat vaikinud. See on olnud mitmel põhjusel. Annan Teile nüüd järgnevate päevade jooksul mõned vastused.
Viis aastat tagasi lubati inimestele, et minu ja mu pere menetlemisega luuakse mingi teistele mustreid loov näidis. Olen nõus, loodi mitmeid hoiatavaid näiteid. Kõige hirmsam nende hoiatuste hulgas on raiskamine ja valetamisega endale aupaiste tekitamine.
Alustan siis algusest. See, et ühiskonnas püüti näidata, et ilma Reformierakonna võimuta on koalitsioonid jubedad, töövõimetud ning lausa Eestile ohtlikud – see kahjuks mõjus ka koalitsiooni sisse. Lõpuks hakkasid kriitika surve all koalitsiooni sees pinged tekkima, eriti peaministril endal. Jüri Ratasel ei jaksanud. Mis oli aga selle perioodi kõige hullem näide- kui 30 aasta jooksul olime Eesti sees ikka poliitiliselt erimeelt olnud, siis väljaspool jätsime riigist, sealhulgas ka valitsusest, ikka hea mulje. Sõnadega- välispoliitikas, kaitsepoliitikas me oleme konsensuslikud. Muidugi ei olnud, mitte kunagi, aga nii me ütlesime. Nüüd tuli Reformierakond ja sotsiaaldemokraadid opositsioonis- ja hakkasid just väljaspool Eesti kohta rääkima- kuidas on fašistid võimul, kuidas Eesti investeeringud ja IT valdkond on vähetähtis jne jne. Muidugi teati, et see on vale. Aga Eesti maine hoidmine väljaspool Eestit ei olnud enam oluline. See oli kõige kahetsusväärsem samm kogu selle perioodi jooksul- lõi mingi narratiivi, mis jääbki nüüd kestma. Kahju.
Tuleme nüüd edasi. Koalitsiooni hoidmine 2019-2020 oli vaieldamatult suur töö. Samal ajal toimusid ka erinevate ministeeriumi kärped. Päris kärped, mitte sellised nagu nüüd. Ja siit minu teine hoiatav näide- mitte ükski poliitik ei peaks isegi mõtlema ministeeriumi ametnike koondamisele. Esiteks, tulevad järgmised ministrid ja koik suured massid võetakse uuesti tööle- sellel pole lihtsalt mõtet. Ametkond kasvatab ennast uuesti nagu pärm heades tingimustes. Teiseks, keegi ju ei täna, aga saad hulga inimesi, kes on valmis avalikult valetama, et töökoha kaotuse eest kätte maksta.
Minuga nii juhtuski. Inimene, kes koondati kõigi objektiivsete näidete põhjal, hakkas kätte maksmise eesmärgil valetama. Ja minu siiras usk, et kunagi need valed tulevad ju välja- on 5 aasta jooksul kokku vajunud. Inimesed ei taha tõde, vaid huvitavat lugu. See, et kollane meedia võtab mõne fakti ja selle siis suureks ja põnevaks blufib, see on nende töö. Aga kui sellele tuginedes kirjutatakse kokku kahtlustus, siis süüdistus ja siis seda kohtus menetletakse aastaid- kusagil peaks keegi ju faktid ja muinasjutud lahutama. Seda pole siiani juhtunud. Isegi siis kui jutustus kokku ei sobi. Isegi siis kui loo jutustaja ise kohtus tunnistab, et ta valetab. Isegi siis kui faktid millele lugu toetub ju ei saa lihtalt nii olla- jutustus püsib. Kättemaksu ja pahatahtlikku laimu ei analüüsita. Just see on minu loo kõige hirmsam külg! Kui Sa oled avaliku elu inimene, ükskõik mis valdkonnas, ei ole sa kaitstud valeliku pealekaebamise eest. Ja küsimus on vaid selles, kas on üldse suures pildis ennast võimalik ennast kaitsta. Minu vastus- ei.
Ma selgitan. Võetakse laimaja poolt üks fakt. Laps viidi lasteaiast koju. Fakt. See, et seda nelja aasta jooksul juhtus- tõsi. Aga nii kaebaja kui ka ajakirjanik kes loo kirjutab, politsei kui ka prokuratuur- tegelikult saavad kõik aru, et lugu 17 tunnisest laste sõidutamisest ühest kohast teise ei vasta tõele. Aga lugu jääb püsima. Ja areneb. Ja igaüks paneb värvi juurde. Kuidas seda ümber lükata. Pea võimatu. Jah, Sul on lasteaia juht ja õpetajad, kes ütlevad et tegelikult käis ema järgi ja nõunikke nad ei näinud. Jah, Sul on muusikakooli juht, kes selgitab, et VHK muusikakoolis käivad lapsed ise koolist. Sul on koolijuht, kes selgitab, et huviharidus on pikitud koolitundidesse ja toimub samades majades. Narratiiv püsib. Seda ei ole võimalik ümber lükata. Sest meedias ju kirjutati teisiti. See on justkui uus fakt.
Valed toetuvad üksikutel tõestel juhtudel, kuid on üles puhutud suurte väljamõeldistega. Miks ma ei vaidle? Alguses ei jaksanud. Ausalt. Olin just lahutanud, lapse kaotanud, oma pisikest last meedias näinud, alandatuna. Ei jaksanud. Hiljem uskusin, et küll tõde välja tuleb – ju ainult üks inimene rääkis ühte versiooni- aga ei. Inimesed hakkasid ütlema. “Ma enne ei teadnud.” “Aga kust te nüüd teate?” “Lehest lugesin.” Ehk siis lehes trükitud lugu sai uueks tõeks. Hirmutav, milline jõud on meedial. faktide varjutamine, vahutamine ja tõlgendamine- kõik ju klikimeedia ajastul tavapärane. Muidu lood ei müü, pole põnevad. Seetõttu ma ei vaidlegi meediaga. See on need töö. Aga see, et keegi ei hakkagi teri sõkaldest eristama, on minu jaoks uskumatu. Miks ja kelle tellimusel oli mind vaja maha joosta ning maha matta- need poliitiliste vaenlaste read on pikad. Aga see, et poliitiliselt suudetakse politseid ja prokuratuuri nii võimsalt kontrollida- et määrata kellele peab süüdistuse kokku panema. See on õudne. See ei lase magada. Kahjuks on neid lugusid palju. Erinevad eluvaldkonnad. Tuntud ja tugevad tegijad. Lihtsalt joostakse maha. Nii mõnigi lõpetatakse vaikselt. Teised menetluses aastaid. Hirmus. Teeme siinkohal pausi ja vastame küsimusele, mis mind elus hoiab. Pere ja hobi- aiandus. Seega panen siia ka pildi oma ühest lemmikust, pojengist.

Two Stories that Will Stir Your Soul
By Vishen Lakhiani

I’m writing this to you from New York City.

I’m here with my son, Hayden—he’s 17—and we’re scouting universities.

And as I sit in this country, watching him walk through these towering campuses, full of ambition and wonder, I find myself reflecting on two stories I heard recently. Both American. Both powerful. Both true.

And both soul-stirring.

One happened in the 1920s.
The other, in the 1940s.
Two different men.
Two violent deaths.
Two lives that, through tragedy, reshaped a nation.

And as I share these stories with you, I want you to notice what they awaken in your own heart.

Because these are stories about legacy.
Not the kind written in dollar signs…
But the kind etched in making the RIGHT decision when it really counts.

 
Story 1: Easy Eddie and the Price of Redemption
We begin in Chicago.

The year is 1920.
America is in the grip of Prohibition—and Chicago is a city run by the underworld.

At the center of it all: Al Capone.
The most feared man in the country.

Capone was untouchable. His enemies ended up in the river. His critics disappeared. There’s a story—true story—about how Capone once beat a man to death in the middle of a restaurant… with a baseball bat… because the man insulted him.

No one dared call the police.
No one dared stand up.

That’s how powerful he was.

But Capone’s true power didn’t come from his fists or his gun.
It came from one man:

Easy Eddie.

Easy Eddie was Capone’s personal lawyer.
And he wasn’t just good. He was genius.

Jhon Lennon
No matter what charges the government brought—murder, bootlegging, racketeering—Eddie made them vanish.
He knew how to manipulate the system so well, no one could touch Capone.

And for his loyalty, he lived in unimaginable wealth.
Cars. Mansions. Clothes. Power.

But behind the tailored suits and million-dollar smile…
was a man who also happened to be a father.

Easy Eddie had a son.
A boy he loved more than anything else in the world.

And that son would ask him—

“Dad… what do you do?”

Eddie couldn’t give a straight answer.

As the boy got older, the questions sharpened:

“Where does all our money come from?”

Again… no answer.

Easy Eddie could buy him the best schools. The finest shoes. The softest sheets.
But he couldn’t give him the one thing that mattered:

A father worth admiring.

And that truth… began to gnaw at him.

He realized: I’ve given my son everything—except a good name.

And one day, he made the most courageous decision of his life.

He turned.

He flipped on Capone.
He went to the authorities.
He testified in court.
His actions helped put some of the most dangerous men in America behind bars.

And he knew…

He knew…
It would cost him everything.

One day, while driving through Chicago, another car pulled up beside him.
Gunfire erupted.
Bullets tore through the steel.
Easy Eddie’s car spun off the road.
His body was riddled with holes.

He died alone.

But in his pocket, the police found a folded piece of paper.

A poem, creased at the corners, worn from being read and reread.

“The clock of life is wound but once,
And no man has the power
To tell just when the hands will stop,
At a late or early hour.

Now is the only time you own.
Live, love, toil with a will.
Place no faith in time…
For the clock may soon be still.”

That’s what he left behind.

A man who chose truth over comfort.
A clean name over a corrupt fortune.
A legacy worth dying for.

 
Story 2: The Sky Over the Pacific
Now fast forward to the 1940s.
World War II.

A young fighter pilot launches from the USS Lexington—a massive aircraft carrier in the Pacific.

Mid-mission, he’s told to return. He’s low on fuel. But as he circles back, he spots something.

Nine Japanese bombers.
Headed straight for the Lexington.
Thousands of lives on board.

He’s alone.
No backup.
No bullets to spare.

But he doesn’t retreat.

He charges.

USS Lexington
He fires everything he’s got.
Two enemy planes fall into the sea.
Then—he’s out of ammo.

But still, he doesn’t back down.

He begins ramming the bombers.
Flying dangerously close.
Clipping wings.
Disrupting their formation.
Throwing them into chaos.

His plane is being shot at from every direction, but he keeps going, relentless, fearless.

Eventually, the remaining bombers retreat.
The ship is saved.

This pilot became the first Navy aviator in World War II to earn the Medal of Honor.

His name?

Butch O’Hare.

You might know that name if you’ve flown into Chicago.

O’Hare International Airport is named after him.

O’Hare’s legacy helped inspired millions of Americans and allied troops to give their all to win the war against the Nazis and the Japanese empire.

But here’s the part I didn’t tell you.

Butch O’Hare…
was Easy Eddie’s son.

The man who once protected America’s most notorious gangster…
gave his life to give his son a clean name.
And that son went on to save thousands.

 
What Will You Leave Behind?
Both men gave their lives for this country.
Both died in violent sacrifice.

But one—gave his life to redeem himself.
The other—gave his life because of that redemption.

And maybe—just maybe—
it was Easy Eddie’s sacrifice that planted something in his son’s heart.

The courage.
The integrity.
The compass that said: This is what we stand for.

So now I want to ask you—
Not as a parent. Not as a professional. Not as a role. But as a soul:

What are you leaving behind?

Maybe your legacy isn’t your business.
Maybe it’s not your money, your house, or your donations to charity.

Maybe legacy is something quieter.
Something sacred.

Maybe legacy is…

The values and emotions you leave in the hearts of those who loved you most.
The truth you lived by when no one was clapping.
The moments your child reflects on—not what you built, but who you became.

Legacy isn’t a LinkedIn bio.

It’s what your child says about you when they bury you in the ground.
It’s the stories they tell.
The character you pass on.

We’ve been conditioned to believe that legacy is about what we acquire—money, cars, stock portfolios.

But I believe… It’s really about what we stand for when no one’s watching.

And I believe that’s what echoes beyond the silence.

That’s legacy.

Not what you leave to your children and the people who loved you most.

But what do you leave inside their hearts when they think about you?

If you enjoyed this story, 👉 leave a comment.

And for those of you who want to take this further, here are two reflective questions you can ask yourself.

Legacy Reflection: 2 Questions to Ask Yourself Today

What would my children—or those who love me most—say about my character if I were gone tomorrow?

Where in my life am I choosing comfort over courage… when my soul is asking me to stand for something greater?
🌍 PS – Want to be in a room where stories like this come to life?

These are the kinds of reflections we dive into at Mindvalley University — live this July in Amsterdam.
It’s not just about lectures. It’s about awakening your values.
Your voice.
Your vision.
If you’re feeling the call, this might be your place.

Learn more about MVU in Amsterdam

With love and in service,

— Vishen