Legacy is a Verb: How Estate Planning Can Be an Act of Living Generosity

Over the last several years, I’ve found myself thinking more and more about what it actually means to leave a legacy.

When I first started working as a wealth strategist, conversations about wills and trusts were usually just a line item on a checklist: Do you have one? Yes or no? If not, the advice was predictable: get thee to an attorney. But it wasn’t until I began helping people realize their estate plans, putting their wishes, values, and long-term hopes into action, that I understood: the documents are important, but they’re just one piece of the story.

Because a will or trust is simply a tool. A vehicle. A way to legally state your intentions. But the deeper work, the true estate planning, is in deciding those intentions. What items, beliefs, and lessons do you want to pass on? What parts of yourself do you hope will ripple forward? That’s the heart of legacy.

And here’s the thing: I don’t think legacy starts after death. I’ve said it before, and I’ll keep saying it over and over: I believe legacy is a verb. It’s what we do every day.

It’s how we spend our time, what work we choose, where we give, how we show up for others, and what we teach our families—whether we're aware of it or not.

So no wonder estate planning can feel overwhelming. You’re trying to distill a whole life into a set of instructions and asset transfers. Of course that’s hard. We’re not just organizing paperwork, we’re wrestling with meaning.

This Month is About More Than Making a Will

August is National Make-A-Will Month, and yes, this is your nudge to schedule that appointment with your lawyer. (They’re probably booked out a few weeks or months anyway, so you can congratulate yourself on being proactive and still procrastinate a little.)

But as you do, I’d encourage you to zoom out. Ask yourself:

  • What legacy am I already living right now?

  • Does the life I’m living reflect the values I hope will endure?

  • Are there ways I want to be more intentional about what I give and how I’m remembered?

  • What stories, traditions, or values do I want to pass on just as much as money or things?

This kind of reflection is estate planning, too. It’s the internal clarity that makes the external logistics meaningful.

Not Sure Where to Start? Read an Obituary.

Truly. One of the best exercises I’ve picked up (thank you, Show Your Work by Austin Kleon) is to read a few obituaries. Not to be morbid, but to notice what gets remembered.

You’ll quickly see that legacies aren’t defined by net worth or tax structures. They’re shaped by how people lived and what they stood for, who they loved, and how they showed up.

So this month, yes: make the appointment. Get the documents in motion.

But also take a walk. Make a list. Write a letter. Call someone who shaped you. Live in a way that future documents will only need to catch up to.

Because your legacy isn’t something you leave behind. It’s something you’re already creating today and everyday, choice by choice, with a little generosity and a lot of heart.

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Integrating Philanthropy and Financial Planning