I like to joke sometimes about how awesome I am.

Someone will ask, “How are you?” And I’ll reply with “Charming and witty. You?

They won’t know what to do with it. I’ll giggle.

Good times.

And I AM joking.

You know, mostly.

Truth be told, I kinda like me.

So, before I get into the meat of this post, let’s remember that it is entirely possible that I’m a raging egomaniac.

A charming and witty egomaniac.

Let’s remember that things I say shouldn’t always be taken seriously.

And let’s also remember that sometimes they should be.

Somewhere in my mid-twenties, I began thinking about my legacy. I began thinking about the mark I want to leave on the world.

I’ve always wanted to do something “great.”

I’ve always been sure that I will.

Some people want to travel the world and see everything that they can. They want to experience everything the world has to offer. I can appreciate that. But, it doesn’t have the same appeal to me.

Memories of all you’ve seen can fade with time.

Legacy doesn’t.

I think that some people are travelers and some are builders.

I think that I’m a builder.

At some point along the way, I decided that writing could be my legacy.

I loved the idea of my great grandkids watching a movie in the future that was written by me.

I thought that was how I’d achieve my “greatness.”

I’m still planning on seeing my screenplays produced, though whether or not that is “greatness” is debatable.

But, maybe that isn’t supposed to be my legacy.

Maybe I’m supposed to be a good son. A good brother. A great Unc.

Maybe I’m supposed to be a great Dad too.

I have great parents.

Maybe I am supposed to raise a kid that cures Cancer.

Maybe I am supposed to raise a kid that writes a song or poem that truly inspires others.

Maybe I’m just a guy with a mediocre blog that should just write for the enjoyment of it.

Or maybe I could use my writing for other things.

Maybe I could write letters for Amnesty International.

Maybe I could write press releases for a charity (or charities) that make the lives of others better.

Maybe I could write speeches for a politician that can change the world.

Maybe I use “could” too much and “should” not enough.

Maybe we can’t decide what our legacy will be. Maybe it just happens.

Though we can control what we do and don’t do.

And, for some reason, I feel closer to figuring out what I should be doing.

That’s progress.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *