The Scene
I am not an expert, or even a novice, at human relations or what resides between our (or my) ears. And, in a sense, this newsletter – and even the very article you are reading – is my own ego project.
Why am I admitting this? At its core, I hope that I can disarm you… that perhaps my writing won’t challenge your own ego. But beneath my bluster and hubris, and what they cover up, is an altruistic desire for connection and impact. At the end of the day, I want to help you for genuine reasons even if several layers of the onion cover up these reasons. And for all my flaws, perhaps I subconsciously hope that you will see some of yourself in me and thus be inspired to fearlessly and ruthlessly pursue your own aspirations without self-judgment.
Having set that intention, it is (American) Thanksgiving week. In our space of estate planning and family wealth, we often use the image of the Thanksgiving table to illustrate the messy intersection between well-intentioned outcomes, and past or anticipated hurts. We speak loftily of family success, with the hope that virtue can perhaps rise above pettiness. We attempt to draw lines around family identity, while sometimes demonizing individualism as an attempt to color outside these drawn lines.
Most of all, we rightfully speak of gratitude for what we have in hopes that, for perhaps one gathering, we can turn off our quest for more long enough to create some peace in the presence of those closest to us – whether it is our family of origin, or the family we have chosen.
But, I am getting at something bigger here – that metaphorical quest for more. As we explore gratitude, sometimes there is a part of us that pushes back against that ideal. That part of us may express itself as a small itch. Or it might be bigger – expressing itself even as an allergy against the idea of gratitude itself. It is a part we dare not expose, because doing so might make us appear ungrateful, entitled, spoiled, selfish, or any other number of labels designed to bring us back into our “place” or “role” in the system.
What if, instead, we could give that small itch, or even that bigger allergy, some space? Could we sit with it for a while without reacting? And if we are willing to take that step, could we even do something that seems radical – express gratitude and thanks for that itch or allergy? Should we be thankful for that desire for more?
Ego and Goals
As part of a nascent podcast series I have been working on with someone else behind the scenes (which has been affected by my own ego), we will discuss goals in estate planning. Often, our goals take on a certain sheen of what our outside advisors – or even our family – would want to hear. Platitudes such as “saving taxes,” “protecting from creditors,” and “making heirs productive” are repeated every day in meetings nationwide. These goals are baked into practically every estate planning form or document.
Yet, there are some goals that reside deep down inside of us that will never see, or hear, the light of day. These goals drive us in secret. On occasion, we may view them as their own secret to our success – a superpower, perhaps. On the other hand, there may be some shame or fear that accompanies these goals. Shame may reveal the conclusion that sharing these goals with others would not lead to a favorable impression. Fear may reveal that sharing these goals would lead to a loss of our self-perceived competitive advantage. In response, we create an NDA[1] with ourselves to keep these things inside.
In the big picture, these goals are often ego-driven. And whether we like it or not, many estate and wealth transfer plans are affected in some way, shape, or form by ego-driven goals.
The big secret is that these ego-driven goals are not so secret. Whether it is the goal itself, or the effect – positive and negative – that concealing that goal has on us, it tends to seep out and express itself indirectly. It does affect our relationships during life. And, to the extent it becomes an unacknowledged part of our estate plan, it affects our relationships after our passing. The cover-up becomes worse than the crime. But, what if the crime is one we have imagined?
In his book I Hope I Screw This Up, Kyle Cease speaks of our tendency to draw a picture of a monster, stick it on the wall, and then get scared (or at least startled) every time we see it. What lives in the dark has a tendency to become a monster. But, I do think Mr. Cease accomplished his goal and did indeed screw one thing up. Perhaps the very act of drawing a picture of the monster, and sticking it on the wall, sheds the light of day on the monster and thus disarms it.
I am not telling you, however, that the monster should be drawn. Your own ego-driven goals, and the ego-driven goals of your clients, can become monsters in and of themselves when covered up. But, you can continue to honor the NDA with yourself as long as it serves you. The cover-up can continue, because there is something deeper driving your image of the supposed “crime.” What is that something deeper? The monster itself may wish to be honored.
When is the last time you acknowledged your ego-driven goals, and the feelings they bring up? And, when is the last time you expressed gratitude for these goals and associated emotions – much less encouraged a client to do so?
This is Stupid
As I just alluded to, gratitude extends not just to the goal. It extends to the associated emotions. And, in keeping with my expressed hope above of disarming you, I am throwing myself at the mercy of those whose emotional gut reaction is, “this is stupid.”[2]
You’re right. My conclusion may be too simple, or trite. It may reflect my lack of experience, wisdom, and/or (quickly waning) youth. It may reflect my lack of time in the trenches. The truth is, you do have some advantage over me that may make you more deserving. And, while you may not believe me, I am not here to threaten that advantage.
Instead, I just hope for a moment of reflection – a reframe, perhaps - to view this as something that is too simple when applied to others but overly complex when applied to ourselves. That advantage we speak of? It is perhaps the result of ego-driven goals, and the desire for more discussed above.
For yourself, and not for me, take some time to express gratitude for that advantage and ongoing desire. You did it – maybe with help from others, or perhaps largely on your own. But the gratitude is not designed to be reflected outwards to give others their credit, whether you think that credit is due or not due. It is instead designed to give credit to that part of you that operates in secret to keep you safe and drive you forward.
You can keep that part of you in the dark, and allow it to grow if you wish. You don’t have to disarm it. Just give it thanks. And all the negative or positive emotions that accompany it? You don’t have to stop running from those. Instead, give thanks for those emotions – or even your own fear or avoidance of those underlying emotions.
In other words, give thanks to your ego. It wants some credit, and you are the only one able to provide that appreciation. No amount of outside affirmation will ever satiate it, because (just maybe) what it desires most is affirmation from you.
Next Steps?
My hope is that this helped you scratch that itch, or temporarily relieve that allergy, that can pop up when confronted with the idea of gratitude. I also hope that this opened up just a small space for connection with others as you gather to give thanks. While I cannot speak for you, it is my own ego that often gets in the way of my own connections. It creates a sense of fear and distrust that, when left unchecked, can lead to misanthropy.
I am thankful for you. Egotistically, I hope for thousands upon thousands of readers and subscribers. I long for more, and let myself get sucked into my own self-created competitions and battles for superiority in this narrow niche of estate planning and tax education. And, in the process you – as an individual reader – can get lost in the shuffle. But, if nothing else, I am grateful that you have taken the time out of your busy day to read this far. And, whatever your aspirations might be – whether ego-driven, or altruistic, you have my permission to honor those aspirations in a world where it can seem like everyone is telling you that doing so is shameful or wrong.
Let’s give thanks for those parts of us that drive us, and perhaps even those parts of us that resist gratitude itself. Why? Because this is a necessary first step to the joy that gratitude can bring.
And, I am going out on a limb to speculate that this can help us become better advisors. It can help us create space for the purposefully-unspoken goals and aspirations of our own clients. It can also inspire us to, perhaps, drop the fear and shame which cause us to cast our own aspirations negatively to begin with. In other words, what if the monster isn’t actually a monster at all?
Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours,
Griffin Bridgers
[1] A Nondisclosure Agreement, in legal-speak.
[2] I originally cited this as my oft-repeated attempt to emulate the character of B-Rabbit (played by Eminem) in 8 Mile, by anticipating criticism and writing or speaking in response to those anticipated criticisms. But, for the sake of flow and decorum, I felt it better to footnote this as a pop culture Easter egg.