In the early 1990s, my “GPS” was a giant spiral-bound Atlanta street atlas.
The map book
I was in my early 20s and just starting out as a financial advisor.
I spent hours every day cold-calling people at home. I called at all hours, often right in the middle of dinner, hoping someone would agree to meet with me.
When someone said yes, I would drive to see them.
First, I had to find their home.
So I’d flip to the right page, trace the route with my finger, and go fight Atlanta traffic.
Within a few months, that map book was worn and dog-eared.
I still got lost.
And being a guy, I was too stubborn to stop and ask for directions.
But sometimes I’d pull over, find a payphone (remember those?), and call the person I was on my way to see. I always hoped they wouldn’t use my call as a reason to tell me not to bother.
Now picture me in Atlanta in August, in a suit and tie. My car’s A/C never stood a chance.
I can’t imagine navigating Atlanta today without my phone.
But that map book made me pay better attention.
I learned how different parts of the city looked and felt. I saw where people lived, and how much that changed from one neighborhood to the next.
Retirement is new territory
I’ve been thinking about that big map book and the women I work with.
Most are in their 60s or 70s. Many are about to retire, or already have.
If that’s you, your career is gone, or soon will be. Your kids are grown, and maybe you have grandkids. Perhaps you’re helping care for your aging parents. It’s easy to get turned around.
When that happens, you need a guide.
The question is, what kind do you want?
GPS
She was 57 and eager to retire from a long career running a hospital department. She had about $2,800,000 saved.
Before we met, she typed her numbers into a free online planning tool. It asked a dozen questions and gave her an answer.
The answer was exact. She’d be financially independent at age 61.
She slid the printout across the table.
“I know I’m supposed to feel good about this,” she said.
Then she paused.
“But I have no idea where I’m going.”
That printout was a GPS.
Type in an address and it tells you every turn. It knows you’ll get there at 4:47. Miss a turn and it finds you a new route without skipping a beat.
But it never asks why you’re going.
It doesn’t care about the lake view around the next bend. Or the small town with the best barbecue in the state. It just wants to get you there quickly.
So you watch the blue line, you arrive on time, and you don’t remember much about your trip.
Map
A printed financial plan is more like my old map book.
A thick binder or a long PDF that shows your life the way it looked the day it was printed.
A few weeks ago I wrote about how every plan is out of date as soon as it’s done.
Once it’s out of date, a map ends up folded in a drawer. So do most financial plans.
Compass
She was in her early 60s, recently divorced, with about $4,000,000. She came in with no plan at all. No printout. No binder.
What she had was a direction.
“I want to live close enough to my daughter to pick up the grandkids from school,” she said.
“I want to keep painting. And I never want to ask anyone’s permission to spend my own money again.”
She never asked when she’d be financially independent.
A compass doesn’t pick your path. It doesn’t give you an arrival time. It just shows you which way is north. The path is up to you.
Being her compass is my job.
I keep pointing her back to what she told me that first day. When the market drops. When her daughter’s family moves to Charlotte. When a small gallery offers her a show, and she wonders if she can afford six months off to paint for it.
Her route will change many times. Her direction hasn’t changed at all.
And since she isn’t staring at a blue line, she gets to look around. She sees her grandkids grow up. She finishes the painting on her easel.
Why direction wins
I run plenty of numbers for clients.
But in 30+ years, I’ve seen women with precise plans feel lost.
And I’ve seen women with nothing but a clear direction feel calm and confident.
The difference is where they look.
A GPS keeps your eyes on a screen. A compass lets you look up, appreciate where you are, and decide if you want to take a new route.
My old map book is long gone. What stayed with me is the city, and the people who let a sweaty kid in a suit into their homes.
You know who you are. 😉
Your turn
Before you try one more planning app or ask for one more “what if,” write one or two sentences about where you’re headed.
No numbers. No deadlines.
Just where you want to be, who you want with you, and how you want your days to feel.
Then read it to someone who is taking the journey with you, like your spouse, one of your adult children, or a trusted financial advisor.
Until next Wednesday,
Russ
P.S. Zilly is the best compass I know. We often take a different route on our walks. She always knows the way home, and she enjoys every step.