A Personal Essay by One Financial Services Principal and Co-founder, Jack Morrone
A few weeks ago, while traveling with my son, Dominic, on an Amtrak trip, we briefly got lost walking through downtown San Diego. We must have looked lost because a member of a construction crew working nearby stopped what he was doing, walked over, and offered to help us find our way.
It was a small moment. Simple. Brief. But memorable.
What struck me afterward was not only the kindness itself, but the interruption it required. He had every reason to stay focused on his own work. Instead, he noticed something uncomfortable in another person and chose involvement over indifference.
A few days later, while out on a walk at home, I noticed a plastic bottle lying along the side of the road. Like most litter, it had probably become almost invisible to everyone passing by. I initially walked past it myself before stopping, turning around, and picking it up.
That moment strangely reminded me of the construction worker.
At first glance, helping confused strangers and picking up litter seem unrelated. But both involve resisting what has quietly become normalized in our culture: moving past things that are not technically our responsibility.
Litter remains because enough people decide, consciously or unconsciously, “someone else will deal with it.”
Human struggles often remain isolated the same way.
Someone shares fear, grief, uncertainty, or crisis, and our culture has become remarkably skilled at offering compassionate-sounding exits before we ever fully enter the journey with them.
“I’m sorry.” “Thinking of you.” “Let me know if you need anything.”
Those words are often sincere. But sometimes they also function as emotional off-ramps. They allow us to acknowledge pain while remaining safely uninvolved.
Vulnerability, however, is often an on-ramp to connection.
When someone exposes confusion, heartbreak, financial fear, caregiving exhaustion, or uncertainty about the future, they are quietly asking a deeper question:
“Is anyone willing to come down this road with me?”
My former partner, Mary, who carried tremendous wisdom, used to say that one thing that separated our firm was that we were never afraid “to get into the goo.”
It’s an unusual phrase, but an honest one.
Because real life is often gooey. Messy. Complicated. Emotional. Unresolved.
People do not walk into financial planning carrying spreadsheets alone. They carry marriages, grief, aging parents, special needs children, business pressures, loneliness, regret, fear, uncertainty, and family systems that are difficult to untangle.
Getting into the goo means being willing to stay present after the socially acceptable moment to exit has arrived.
It means asking another question. Listening longer. Sitting in uncertainty. Helping carry burdens that technically do not belong to you.
That kind of stewardship takes energy. It takes time. It sometimes feels awkward and uncomfortable.
But perhaps that is exactly why it matters.
We live in a culture where less has increasingly become the standard: less patience, less attention, less responsibility for one another, less willingness to become involved.
At One Financial Services, we continue to strive for something different.
Not perfection. Not endless availability. Not pretending to solve every problem.
But a willingness to notice. A willingness to stop. A willingness to walk further down difficult roads with the people who trust us.
Oddly enough, a piece of litter and a construction worker both served as reminders of who we want to be.
LPL Tracking: 1194446-02-01