Old Hopes Can Find New Meanings
When I was in 8th grade (that was in the 60’s – yikes!), our school introduced us to a cutting edge computerized assessment that promised to expertly predict our future careers. I remember the pages and pages of questions, filling in the circles perfectly with my #2 pencil, and then waiting many weeks for the results. When the day came and our guidance instructors handed out the printed assessment reports, they were truly impressive looking, and heavy! I scanned the thick, heavy pile of pages with excited anticipation to see what I would be when I grew up. Finally on the last page, my single future career was announced to me in two words. I’ll give you a hint, so you can share the anticipation with me for just a moment. The first letters of the two words were:
E.O.
What do you think E.O. stood for? Executive Officer, maybe? A terrific guess, but no. My career destiny, according to this impressive computer science evaluation was:
Elevator Operator!
Imagine my excitement. The thought of saying, “Going up?” or “Going down?” all day long certainly did not ‘elevate’ any hope in me. Yet it became the beginning of my career hope story. Because I actively, passionately, and consciously HOPED I would not grow up to be an Elevator Operator!
I never gave it much conscious thought beyond that until eight years ago when my father was dying of cancer and I had a vivid dream about an elevator. In the dream I was trying to get to the elevator I could see through a glass wall, but I couldn’t seem to punch in the correct security code to be allowed in. I gave up and left, even though I knew I belonged there. Everything in the dream after that was wild and crazy, including my car driving the wrong way through heavy traffic. When I awoke, I knew it meant I had to go see my father immediately.
In the previous weeks, Dad had begun saying three words repeatedly, “I have regrets.” None of my four sisters or mother knew how to respond because he had taught us to never talk about tough topics, especially his alcoholic and abusive behavior. We were quite sure that’s why he had regrets, so we would always gently close the door he was trying to open for the first time in his life. We would say, “That’s okay, Dad, you don’t have to talk about it.” We had all obeyed his unique security system and avoided talking about difficult matters. The elevator dream provided clarity to me and gave me hope that both my father and I could open the doors to discuss his regrets if we were brave enough to “punch in the right security code” and not give up.
Doctors had predicted he had several months to live, but the elevator dream planted urgency in me that I could not ignore. As I drove to Nebraska
After two days his anxiety had vanished and he went into a peaceful sleep, dying just four short days later. Obviously, he didn’t have the four months the doctors had predicted after all. This taught me the many dimensions of mourning and making the most of unexpected losses. Those hours with my dad have helped me elevate my courage, when my own fears would have otherwise sent me running. Seeing the remorse on his face when he looked back on his life with painful regrets made me committed to what I call “Regret Prevention” for the rest of my life.
As financial advisors, aren’t we all in the business of “Regret Prevention?” In countless ways, we work to paint our clients’ futures for them, so they can prevent financial regrets. Whether we do comprehensive planning, investment management, or insurance, we are in perpetual “operation elevation” mode all the time with clients. We help elevate their chances of living a more financially secure life, save more money, allocate assets sensibly, and much more.
It takes tremendous courage to be a financial advisor. At times, especially in the early years of my business, a sense of hopelessness tried to creep in. At those times, it helps to remember operation elevation and regret prevention. Courage is at the heart of hope in any endeavor. So regardless of what your official title might be, why not secretly add CEO (Chief Elevator Operator) to your career title every time you feel disheartened by a difficulty? We are the Chief Elevator Operators of our business hopes, decisions, spirit, and goals.
Hope is simply desire with expectation for fulfillment. Of course, there are times when we have to modify our hopes to accept life’s difficult transitions and losses. It’s true in our business as well. HOPE makes us all elevator operators. Keep operating to elevate hope – for yourself and others – and you will find infinite courage to share your gifts with the world.