January 2026: Joy is Not Made to be a Crumb

“Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this is its way of fighting back, that sometimes something happens better than all the riches or power in the world.”

-Mary Oliver

Greetings!

2025 served as a constant reminder of my Ikigai, my “why”. There’s something powerful about witnessing families create what they thought was impossible through the patient work of building authentic connection with one another. While my work centers on family philanthropy, I’ve learned that creating meaningful family conversations applies to any family navigating complex decisions together whether that’s charitable giving, business succession, wealth transfer, or simply wanting deeper connection across generations.

Reflections on 2025: A Year of Igniting Sparks

Transformation often begins in unexpected places. Sometimes in a room full of families discovering they are not alone. This summer, I presented at a luncheon for women exploring their “Philanthropic North Star.” In ninety minutes, we moved from individual values discovery through money messages to concrete next steps. I watched women identify patterns they’d never named: how messages they received about money growing up shaped how they talked to their children, how their core values lived beneath assumptions about what “good philanthropy” should look like, how finding their voice in family giving required first knowing what they wanted to say.

In November, I facilitated a workshop for multigenerational philanthropic families at different stages of their journeys. Some had established foundations; others were just beginning conversations about giving together. The gathering included first generations wondering how to pass their values forward, rising generations eager to find their voice, and everyone navigating the delicate work of honoring tradition while making space for evolution.

What struck me was what happened in the spaces between the exercises. The recognition in people’s eyes when another family shared a challenge they thought was uniquely theirs. The quiet “oh, we struggle with that too” moments. The way sharing across families gave permission for harder conversations within families.

We worked through values cards and family huddles, explored case studies about real intergenerational tensions, and laid groundwork for family mission statements. The real discovery was that the awkward conversations about money and meaning, the generational differences in giving priorities, the uncertainty about honoring what came before while creating something new all meant they were already doing the work.

When people see others navigating similar challenges, it changes what feels possible. When a parent hears another parent talk about making space for their adult children’s different giving priorities, it shifts from threat to opportunity. When a young adult hears peers articulate their values with confidence, it gives permission to do the same. When a woman names her philanthropic vision in a room of other women, it strengthens everyone’s voice. The families and individuals in those rooms left with belief that the work is worth doing, the tools to start a conversation, and knowledge that they were not alone.

The workshops and gatherings I facilitated in 2025 were laboratories for understanding what makes this work transformative. Every framework I designed, every exercise I refined, every question I posed taught me something I could bring to the individual families I coach.

As I mentioned in December, I finally did the powerful work with my own family that I have been doing with families over the last decade. After facilitating these conversations all year, I was convinced more than ever that the work is worth doing. I wanted to experience it from the inside.

What I learned by practicing what I preach, in addition to confirmation that the tools work, was visceral understanding of what it feels like to be vulnerable in these conversations, to hear my family members articulate values I didn’t know they held, to discover alignment we’d never named and differences we had never honored. It reminded me that this work demands courage, openness, and trust, and that the gift it gives back is worth the ask.

And the best part is that we did it with joy.

“If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don’t hesitate. Give in to it… Joy is not made to be a crumb.”

— Mary Oliver

Since Thanksgiving weekend, something has shifted in how our family shows up with each other. We haven’t made our first collective grant yet or finalized our giving strategy. But we’re laying groundwork for future collective giving and deepening our relationships, strengthening the bonds that will make everything else possible.

The joy is in more than the giving. The joy is in knowing each other more fully. The joy is in watching your adult sons articulate what they care about with clarity and conviction. The joy is in discovering that meaningful conversations can be energizing, connecting, even fun.

Mary Oliver reminds us to embrace joy’s plenty, to refuse to make it into a crumb. What my family discovered is that when you create intentional space for the conversations that matter most, joy shows up as a natural byproduct of genuine connection. That joy sustains our relationships as well as our giving together long after any single grant is made. It’s what makes this work worth doing.

One of the deepest insights from 2025 is that the process itself creates impact. Whether families are making philanthropic decisions or navigating any complex choice together, the conversations matter as much as, often more than, the outcomes.

When families engage in structured listening circles, when they map how individual strengths complement each other, when they create mission statements that articulate shared values, they build the relational foundation that will sustain their work together for decades.

I saw this with one of my multigenerational family clients. Their collective grant was both moving resources to an organization doing important work and a tangible expression of what they’d built together: a shared vocabulary, mutual respect for different perspectives, confidence in their ability to collaborate, and excitement about what they might create in the future.

I saw it in another client family’s journey through values clarification, where what seemed like irreconcilable differences in how to use their resources turned out to be different expressions of a deeply shared commitment to equity and access. The grant decisions that followed were innovations, ways of giving that none of them would have imagined alone.

Impact is measured in relationships deepened, in next generations finding their voice, in founding generations learning to trust what they’ve built will continue in meaningful ways. It’s measured in families discovering they can work together and find joy in it.

I’ve been returning to The Book of Joy by the Dalai Lama and Desmond Tutu, which captures a week-long conversation between two spiritual leaders about finding joy in the face of suffering. Their insight that joy is cultivated through the practice of gratitude, compassion and turning to others, not pursued as a destination, resonates deeply with my work. The families who experience the most joy in their giving together are creating the conditions for joy through the practice of showing up, listening deeply, and doing hard things together.

As I think about the year ahead, I keep returning to Brené Brown’s wisdom: “Clear is kind. Unclear is unkind” So let me be clear about what I’m trying to accomplish in 2026. I want to help families get resources out the door and do it with joy. That’s it. That’s my work.

Purposeful giving that flows from authentic conversations about what matters, that honors each person’s voice, that strengthens family bonds.

I’m committed to creating the conditions for meaningful conversations between generations. Genuine dialogue where people can be curious about each other’s values, vulnerable about their hopes and fears, honest about their vision for impact.

My coaching is for purposeful engagement and social impact, helping families build the connective tissue that makes collaboration possible, even joyful. This means:

• Working with families to clarify individual values before attempting to articulate collective ones
• Facilitating listening circles where each person can be truly heard
• Helping next generations find their philanthropic voice and founding generations trust what they’ve created
• Developing governance structures and engagement plans that honor both continuity and evolution
• Creating mission and vision statements that are living expressions of shared purpose

As always, I’m also continuing my own learning and growth. I’m deepening my work with values-aligned investing, staying current with emerging trends, deepening my study of family systems, and learning from every family I work with and committing to strengthening my personal relationships.

As we begin 2026, I want to ask you:

What would it take for your family to move resources out the door with joy?

• What if the conversation you want to have could actually happen with the right structure, the right facilitation, the right conditions for everyone to be heard?
• What if your family’s differences in priorities are complementary perspectives that, woven together, create something more meaningful than any one person could envision alone?
• What if purposeful engagement with your family around philanthropy could strengthen your relationships?

If you’re curious about creating these conditions through values clarification work, mission statement development, facilitated family conversations, next-generation engagement planning, or governance structure design, I’d love to explore that with you.

When families commit to the process, trust the design, and create the space for authentic conversation, they discover joy in giving together. Here’s to making 2026 a year of purposeful engagement and meaningful impact.

My joy!