Legacy

It seemed like a odd place to be having a discussion on the topic of legacy. But my counselor led off one session towards the end of our time together by asking me what type of legacy I wanted to leave behind. It totally caught me off guard. I had spent zero time considering this.

A bit of background for those who aren’t regulars of this blog. I have a history as a ne’er-do-well folksinger, road bum, and a person who went through some severe trauma that both led to therapy and to major and immediate changes in lifestyle. Joel had been my therapist for several years. I had moved through major changes in attitude and career in those years. And was in the process of cementing what would become an over forty-year commitment to the woman I love—a lot of change.

I never spent much time thinking about the legacy question. It was not insomnia-provoking for me. But it was a very appropriate one. We were wrapping up years of work. There was a sense of completion developing from our recent sessions.

What should my legacy be?

I was working as a professional applied anthropologist. My first statements centered on my hopes that the work I was doing would yield ongoing and positive results for the community I was serving.

I then turned my attention to my relationship with my future bride. The relationship was unlike any I had before. Without prompting, I filled in that statement. It was developing into a true partnership, with respect and friendship, and an abiding sense of trust. We’d been together for two years and were beginning to discuss deepening our commitment and getting married. I continued that I wasn’t too sure about what the legacy might be. But I thought it was a good topic for me to revisit as things developed.

I think Joel was pleased that I didn’t rush in with great images of what my legacy was going to be. I also found it encouraging that it was an open topic for me to continue thinking about, reevaluating from time to time, and even questioning. He suggested that I not hound myself continuously over it, just reexamine it from time to time.

Within a few months, we agreed to pause our sessions and later end them. My career continued to grow, and I earnestly hope that the work the community and I engaged in had positive consequences. My relationships also continued to grow and thrive.

Eventually, my girlfriend and I got married and had a family. The question of legacy is one that I periodically review. The world changes around us, shouldn’t we also reevaluate our intentions and hopes also?

As retirement approaches, I sometimes find it an involving topic, because our legacies extend beyond ourselves. They are the communities and families we have loved and engendered.

Independence

Not too long ago, I realized that after a while, our legacies take on lives of their own. Because of our actions, they become independent of us. The kids are grown, have their own lives, and are plotting their courses. The parenting my wife and I contributed is part of our legacy, but it’s beyond our control and proceeds on its own, in its direction.

My professional work is also beyond my control. It lives on largely in the ripple effect it may have had on the people who participated in it, or were affected.

So Legacy becomes not just our hopes and aspirations, or what we do, but also its moving and ongoing effects as they spread beyond us and our control.