Dispatches from Good Name Advisors

I admit it: I’m a Peloton addict.

For nearly five years, I’ve worked out almost every morning—running, biking, walking. Lifting, lunging, stretching. Meditating. It’s a habit I love, and one that’s become foundational to my well-being.

But it doesn’t start in the morning—it starts the night before. That’s when the ritual kicks in. I check the Peloton app to see what live classes might work with my schedule. I lay out my workout clothes. I put my bandana by the stairs. These little actions—the ones no one sees—set me up for success. They give structure to the habit, and they prepare me for what comes next.

The rituals of the night before, and the habits of the morning after, lead me to immense gratitude—for my physical and mental capacity, for the growth I’ve experienced, and for the community of others who also show up, every day, to push themselves.

And then, weekly, there’s another ritual.

If you’re looking for me on a Saturday morning, there’s a good chance you’ll find me at my synagogue, Congregation Shaarey Zedek. I’ve belonged there my whole life. For over a decade now, I sit on the right side, one row back from the break, always at the end. That seat has become a habit—I can’t even remember when I claimed it. The ritual, of course, is showing up.

I go because I want to see friends and family, to pray, to learn, and to feel connected—to my community, to our clergy, to our shared heritage, to Am Yisrael. I am a regular. And on the weeks I don’t show up, I get a few “everything okay?” texts—another ritual, in a way. And again, I’m filled with gratitude.

So what does this have to do with philanthropy?

For me, philanthropy is a habit, a ritual, and a source of deep gratitude.

It lives in the rhythms of my calendar and the values I hold. I give regularly—sometimes with great intentionality, sometimes instinctively. But like my morning workouts and my Saturday prayers, the impact multiplies when it’s paired with preparation and presence.

We have rituals for giving—tzedakah boxes, tithing, family meetings, end-of-year reviews. We pass down customs, values, even donation ledgers. We light candles, say blessings, and teach our children to drop coins in the box before Shabbat. These aren’t just habits. They’re ceremonies.

Philanthropy deserves a ceremony.

Not for the tax receipt or the recognition, but because giving—done with intention—connects us to something larger than ourselves. To causes we care about. To people we’ll never meet. To a future we may never see.

Whether you’re a weekly donor or an occasional giver, whether you tithe, tithe-ish, or give when inspired: what would it look like to treat your giving as a ceremony? To make it personal, repeatable, sacred—even in a small way?

Let me know – I’d love to hear from you.

And if you are looking for some help in creating or executing your commitments around philanthropy, be in touch. I’m here to help.

Best,

PS: If you want to follow me on Peloton, I’m @KariBerry116. Or if you want to try it out, I’m happy to send a guest pass—maybe you’ll love it as much as I do.

And if you want to sit with me on a Saturday morning, you know where to find me.