When the Cup Runs Over: The Art of Philanthropy

As a first-generation founder, I didn’t inherit a roadmap. I built it. Every dollar earned was new ground broken. And for a long time, every decision was about survival, growth, and protecting the future. But eventually, you reach a point where the future is secure. Your children are safe. The numbers in the ledger stop changing your life.

And yet, something within still stirs.

The Weight of More Than Enough

I say this with reverence, not guilt: I have more than enough.

The phrase my cup runs over has always felt poetic until it became real. My resources, my time, my knowledge, all of it began to spill beyond the borders of personal use. And once you recognize overflow, you realize you have a choice:

You can dam it up or you can direct the flow.

Philanthropy, for me, is the conscious redirection of that overflow.

Not as performance. Not as penance. But as alignment. A rebalancing of what it means to live well.

Reimagining Legacy

I once believed legacy was what you left behind. Now I understand: it’s what you build into others while you’re still here.

I’m not interested in sterile giving or blind donations. I’m interested in intimacy with impact, seeing the thread between what moved me as a young, broke builder and what moves me now as a steward of capital.

Some causes are deeply personal mirrors of my early struggles. Others stretch me beyond familiarity, forcing me to listen, to learn, to reimagine what help even looks like. But the common thread is intentionality.

Philanthropy isn’t just writing checks. It’s choosing to be in relationship with the world in a new way.

Wealth as Energy, Not Destination

I’ve come to think of wealth not as a finish line, but as a form of energy, raw potential that asks to be directed. You can hoard it, spend it, multiply it. But the most profound use of energy is to circulate it, to move it through ecosystems that can transform it into healing, access, creativity, and renewal.

When I give, I don’t see it as subtraction. I see it as planting.

Sometimes what grows is measurable. Often, it isn’t. But if you’ve ever mentored someone who reminds you of yourself, or seen a dream funded that would’ve once been out of reach you know the kind of wealth I’m talking about.

It’s not net worth. It’s soul return.

A Founder’s Next Act

Building a company taught me how to turn vision into form. Philanthropy is teaching me how to do the same with purpose.

I’m still building. Still dreaming. Still solving problems. But now, I measure success not by scale but by depth.

If your cup, like mine, is running over, don’t let it flood aimlessly. Let it flow with intention. Let it carve new rivers where the ground is dry. Let it teach your children what value really means.

Philanthropy, done right, is not a conclusion. It is a calling. And for those of us who built from nothing, it is perhaps the most natural next frontier.

You didn’t just build wealth. You built capacity.

Now what will you make of the overflow?

Let it matter.

Love,

Lauren