Historically, men have been particularly infatuated with the idea of legacy.
Which makes sense, since our primitive instinct and biological imperative is to reproduce. To spread our seed and make our mark and leave behind a part of ourselves.
That’s the fundamental premise of human evolution, right? It’s not about quality of life, but quantity of its replication.
But let’s get real for a minute.
Isn’t legacy just another word for ego? Isn’t it just a futile attempt to cast an anchor of permanence in a bottomless ocean of change? And isn’t this whole idea of legacy just another an archaic, narcissistic, macho narrative that men are too terrified and insecure to let go of?
Fact is, we’re all mortal beings who get one turn on this speeding mud ball, and not one of us will live beyond this planet. Why put so much pressure on ourselves trying to immortalize our identity along the way?
My theory is, the more we accept this inevitability and reality of death, the less motivated we will feel to obsess over our precious legacy, and the more we can just get on with being alive, right now.
Computer scientists actually use the term legacy in a slightly different context. They talk about legacy systems, which are old technologies and programs that are out of date or in need of replacement.
Bisbal conducted the premiere case study on the topic, proving that legacy systems are considered to be potentially problematic by many software engineers for several reasons. The cost is too high, the maintenance is too labor intensive, the operating systems are too vulnerable, the technology is too complicated to integrate.
What is your infatuation with your own legacy costing you?
Does your obsession about what people will say at your funeral sap your joy in this moment?
Are you so busy planning and protecting your reputation in the future that you have a dysfunctional relationship with the present?
That’s why men are afraid to call legacy on bullshit.
Because we’re afraid of not being men.
LET ME ASK YA THIS…
Are you still chasing your little parcel of immortality, or accepting the reality that nothing lasts?