Peter W. Johnson’s Origin Story

The night before my 30th birthday, I was alone in my studio apartment. I had been told that my mother — who was 53 years old and 400 miles away — probably wouldn’t survive the night. At about 2 am, I woke up with my heart racing and pounding. I was having a severe anxiety attack, which went on and on for hours. I could not calm myself down. Finally, around 5 am, utterly exhausted, I drove myself to the emergency room at Stanford hospital. The doctor simply suggested that I find someone to talk to.

Now that I look back, I see that two major themes in my life had their genesis that night. The two themes that were birthed were:

• First, a stark recognition of my primal need for connection.
• Second, as the months and years passed, I came to realize the importance of astute estate planning and the preparation of heirs.

Let me address each of these separately.

First, connection. My mother had been my best friend, cheering me on when I earned the top spot in my college classes, comforting me through years of ear problems and multiple surgeries. Losing her was a loss of sensed security, grounding, and reliable connection. It was disorienting and anxiety-provoking.

My father and mother divorced when I was five, and never forgave each other. As a result, when my mother died, I had no functional family to find comfort in or to grieve with. I had just two close friends, both of whom were unavailable at that time.

Upon her death, I felt urgently compelled to seek companionship and connection, which I began to do immediately. Within weeks, I found a terrific roommate, got into therapy, and perhaps less healthily, learned that work could serve as a comforting distraction. Later, I met new friends through ham radio, and was blessed to discover men’s work (I was part of a group of seven core “team” members that met weekly for 18 years).

These new social connections — which formed quickly — helped me feel more grounded. The men’s team work I got involved with created an emotional safety net, so that I felt more comfortable taking the normal risks of independent, adult life. I learned more about myself and the lives of other men as we shared our wins and disappointments, victories and struggles, our strengths and our vulnerabilities. Most importantly, I had a group of men who had my back, and I had theirs. The stories, vulnerabilities, and adventures we shared completed me in ways I never could have foreseen.

The second theme, families and legacy, took longer to develop and led to some of the most meaningful work I’ve ever been part of.

Unfortunately, after my mother’s death, her estate plan — and our inheritances — didn’t go smoothly. I had a brother who had significant drug abuse and behavioral issues. I wound up going to court against him in an effort to conserve assets and ensure fairness. Although that was 40 years ago, it was the last time I laid eyes on him. I have to admit it’s hard to forget the lies and accusations he so publicly directed at me.

A few years later, our grandmother died, leaving her entire fortune — tens of millions of dollars — to charity, because she “didn’t like the way family members were turning out.” I was personally disappointed, of course, but grateful that I had begun a real career path and knew that I could take care of myself. Perhaps not by coincidence, I chose a career in investments and financial planning.

My big “aha” moment came years later. One day, while reading a seminal book called Preparing Heirs, I had a sudden flash of insight that absolutely floored me. With proper mentoring and healthy connection, my family’s story could have turned out 180 degrees differently.

For example, what if we had been exposed to family values around the role and meaning of money? What if we had been given education and the opportunity to build money skills? What if we had learned to trust each other before losing our parents? What if?

I’ve learned this: When we lose our families, whether to death, chemicals, or conflict, we’re exposed and vulnerable. We’re more susceptible to feelings of isolation and anxiety. When we lose connection, all of our sources of wealth, including health, peace of mind, money, support, and resilience are put at risk. And I learned that no estate planning — no matter how well intended and conceived — can survive unprepared heirs.

The realization that family mentoring and preparation is critical to the successful transfer of wealth and the preservation of relationships led me to intergenerational legacy work, with the twin goals of preserving wealth plus the relationships for other families. I can’t fix the past, but I can help others avoid some of the serious pitfalls that might otherwise haunt them for generations.

As soon as I realized how different my life and the lives of my family members could have been, I realized that I had a life calling. How could I get the word out to families and to my colleagues in the Financial Planning profession? The answer was so simple! Everything that had led up to where I was in my career at that point made sense and fit into this newly revealed master plan for my life.

As I began to speak to others and to write about this, I found like-minded people, and that led to new openings to apply these insights. A major step forward occurred when I heard from Nancy Ross, a world renowned Licensed Clinical Social Worker, and co-creator of Collaborative Practice, more commonly known as collaborative divorce.

Nancy had been instrumental in creating interdisciplinary professional teams to help families navigate another challenging life event, divorce. The Collaborative approach was to help families build communication and find their own answers, respectfully,without having to go to court and taking adversarial positions. The Collaborative (with a capital “C”) approach utilizes professionals who cover the bases for their client families: law, finances, and communication. In addition to their traditional silo roles, Collaborative professionals are trained in mediation and to work collaboratively and transparently with the ultimate goal of respectful solutions for all concerned. As a financial professional I knew about Nancy and her work, which is well-established worldwide.

Nancy reached out and informed me that it was her intention to apply the Collaborative Practice model to resolving trust and estate issues within families, much as it did with divorce. Nancy asked if I would like to be part of this nascent movement, serving as co-chair of a new committee with her. So here was a solution that could help families solve and settle disputes around estates and trusts, using a proven solution that was already well recognized. I jumped at the opportunity.

Now I knew I had found my life calling. And I was thrilled to work with some of the finest professionals in the world, developing new trainings and materials to educate, inform, and serve.

But even as interest has grown in this dynamic approach to estate conflict resolution, I longed for some way to prepare families in such a way as to avoid damaging conflict in the first place. That’s when I met Jon Young.

I attended a four day camp-out weekend called Music, Nature and Storytelling — three subjects that enliven and fascinate me. What I did not expect was that much of what Jon would talk about had to do with culture and connection. The remarkable depth of his knowledge and passion was evident. And it was immediately apparent to me that he was essentially taking on the same problem I was, except that his focus was culture and society, while mine was the microcosm of the family. Still, the same dynamics and solutions were at play.

What struck me especially were Jon’s unique insights and perspective. He brought the mystery of love of nature, as well as the wisdom of indigenous tribes and peoples from around the world into the equation. Who knew that ancient cultures might have already discovered the importance and secrets of connection?

I had already been introduced to the unfathomable depths of magic in nature connection. I came to this familiarity rather late in life unlike Jon and Lonner,[1]  but it has made a profound difference for me.

Similar to Jon and Lonner, my “lineage“ traces back to Tom Brown. In 2007, I attended my first workshop, led by Tom. During that week, we were introduced to “primitive living” and deep nature connection far beyond “survival.” It was a transformative experience in many ways—filled with wonder and awe—and led me to a profound appreciation of awareness and tracking, building shelter, edible and medicinal plants, and a much deeper sense of connection with the living things around me. It was an invitation to a life-long path of curiosity and appreciation for all our human gifts and abilities.

I thought to myself, “Here are the answers to the questions about how to give families the gifts of deep connection, understanding, and mutual care that are necessary for strong, intergenerational ties.”

Tom Brown has said, “What we don’t understand, we fear, and what we fear, we destroy.” That’s so often true in terms of how we humans relate to each other. But there’s a powerful flipside to that. The corollary is “What we understand and invest in becomes an extension of ourselves. And when we’re connected to something or someone, we love them and protect them.”

My journey with Jon and Lonner for the last few years has been to take the best insights from our various disciplines and to create a structure that supports families in building understanding, connection, and joy.

The current pandemic and associated economic shocks have shaken all of us, but there may be a silver lining. We all now realize how essential connection is to our well-being and peace of mind. We’ve seen that we need each other and that we need to build resilience into ourselves, our families, and our culture.

But we need more than resilience. We need the capacity to keep generating new answers to new problems, re-discovering joy, and attaining greater depths of well-being.

In terms of family dynamics and legacy, we need new generations that revere time proven values, but at the same time that can stand in their own power and generate new possibilities. We need kindness, creativity, empathy and caring. Not just for each other, but for ourselves and for this beautiful, life-filled planet that we are so privileged to live on.

In our work we call this process Regenerative Family Dynamics^©. We are re-generating all of the drive and wisdom that has brought the human race this far, and which clearly needs new paradigms, given the challenges we now face. We need the kind of people that understand the needs and have the capacity to meet the challenges.

We need people who can marshal and build resources, create strong communities, and manifest the leadership qualities necessary to move in healthy new directions. And we believe that only those with strong ties to themselves and others can marshal the resources necessary.