05/27/2026: For Those That Remain
A weekly newsletter I read posed a thought-provoking question: If your family inherited only your habits (not your things or your money), which ones would be your richest gifts? A book I read also made me think about the masks we wear and the difference in “seeming” and “being,” how we tell a story in our heads and how that story makes us who we are. Which begs the question for myself: Am I true to my inner values, my habits that make up who I am, and are they worthy of the legacy that I would deign to leave behind for my loved ones? Or is that hubris?
Deep down, we all want to make some sort of impact on the people in our world, something to be admired and remembered. We always strive to be good, or at least we tell ourselves we do. But what exactly do I have to offer that’s worthy of passing down? Do I know myself enough to answer with self-actualized confidence? Some days I think so; others I can only ask: Who am I to do this? Who am I to do anything?
Assuming we’re in an ideal world and I’ve done a few things right, I think that I could only hope to leave behind any combination of the following: my wide-eyed wonder and my caring heart; my fierce protection of my truth and my happiness; my obsessive thirst for knowledge and reflection; my undying loyalty; my adoration for nature and the silence in the loudness of life; and my dedication to running against the flow of the norm for the sake of my creative passions and my adventurous soul.
I could only hope to leave just one of those ways of being behind, if we could forget about worldly things like stuff and money to inherit a greater gift, a more precious memory to leave a lasting impression with for those that remain. I think that we all “seem” and “be” in different ways, that some masks are just a part of who we are. But I also know that true peace comes from “seeming” and “being” becoming one, in a place where we become centered and grounded in who we are and who we want to be.
That’s life’s greatest challenge, but it doesn’t have to be defined by the bad times; it can also be enriched by the goodness that comes from it, too. There’s surrender in every struggle, and light to illuminate even the darkest night. There is stagnation in the ebbs and flows and growth in the stillness. But one of life’s greatest gifts is looking back and knowing that you were nothing if not your purest self, someone who leaves a legacy behind inspired by your authenticity, your love, and your passions.
If I could boil it down to these three things, and if I could ensure that I could wholeheartedly leave these three pillars standing tall for those that knew me, I would consider these my richest gifts. I would leave the fourth pillar for those that come after, to construct and to lean on as they discover their own three truths that they deem worthy of passing on, and so on and so forth, in a beautiful cycle that continues on long after I’m gone.