Legacy

Lately, I have been thinking about legacy.

What kind of impact do I want to leave behind, and what am I willing to sacrifice to achieve that impact? What do I want to build, or to help tear down? What constructs, whether physical or otherwise, do I want to outlive me?

I have friends writing and publishing books. I have friends directing and starring in local theater productions. I have friends who are active in politics. I have friends who build software that is used every day. And whenever I hear of some new accomplishment, even as I cheer them on, I cannot help but wonder, how will I be remembered when I am gone?

I don't mean this in a morbid way. I am only twenty-nine, and it is likely that I will live three or even four times my current number of years. Or I might have a tragic accident and die a week from now.

There is simply no way to know.

For my birthday this year, I received a copy of the Hamilton soundtrack: two CDs together comprising over an hour and a half of music from the Broadway blockbuster, with accompanying books of lyrics. Since then I have listened to the complete play something like four times, mostly in ten minute increments on my commute, and I have nearly finished a fifth repetition.

Hamilton, as presented in the musical, is obsessed with his legacy. As soon as he realizes that he has a chance to build something real, he throws himself headlong into it.

"See, I never thought I'd live past twenty
Where I come from some get half as many
.
.
.
I'm laughin' in the face of casualties and sorrow
For the first time I'm thinkin' past tomorrow!"

Later in the play, he sacrifices his personal reputation and the stability of his home life in order to protect his professional reputation, and by extension the stability of the federal banking system he designed. To him, that economic structure was his most lasting legacy, the most important thing he could leave behind.

"Cuz we'll have the banks
We're in the same spot
[Burr] You got more than you gave.
And I wanted what I got
.
.
.
God help and forgive me!
I wanna build
Something that's gonna
Outlive me!"

The first time I listened to the soundtrack, I couldn't imagine making that kind of personal sacrifice. I couldn't imagine valuing something enough to make that kind of choice. Recently, however, I realized that I was thinking of it all wrong.

Hamilton didn't feel he had a choice.

He didn't think of it as a sacrifice, nor would he have chosen differently had he been offered the opportunity with the benefit of hindsight. In his mind, it was the only thing he could do and remain true to himself. Maybe, that is what legacy really is - the impact of the actions that are so completely "us" that we don't think of them as choices anymore.

I found myself thinking about the situations where people have complimented my actions as though they were above and beyond the norm, much to my confusion at the time. The times I traveled to help a sick friend after work, or spent a day off driving someone around while they do something time sensitive or important. The times I've offered my home as a safe space for someone, for short or long term. All things that positively impacted someone without giving me any tangible benefits. None of these things felt like sacrifices, even if they inconvenienced me or otherwise impacted my life.

They were simply things I couldn't imagine not doing.

The fact that such things feel so natural to me is itself the legacy of my large, loving family and their vast network of equally loving friends. I grew up surrounded by people who would readily give a hand up to anyone who was struggling, and I became such a person myself. Now, far from my childhood home, the impact that I have is magnified.

I have changed lives, if only in my own little circle of friends. Maybe I will live another eighty years, never doing more than making these small, positive impacts on the lives of those whose paths cross mine, but ultimately affecting hundreds directly. Or maybe I will die in a freak accident tomorrow, having changed only a handful of courses and given hope to only a handful of hurting hearts. Either way, I have changed the world, and generally (I believe) left it better than I found it.

That is legacy enough for me.