My legacy —
What will it be?
Flowers in spring,
The cuckoo in summer,
The crimson maples
Of autumn…
– Ryokan
It’s easy to get wrapped up in wanting to create permanence, something that will last beyond this body of ours. It seems important to leave something behind.
I think I’m caught somewhere between wanting to leave an enduring reminder of my time in this life and coping with the fact that there is no meaningful reason to believe that it really matters. I think the reason we want something lasting to remain is that we secretly want to live forever and that somehow an effigy of who we were will serve as a permanent reminder to everyone that we were here. Thinking about the matter, I see the absurdity of it.
The absurdity seems to lie within the fact that we consider ourselves separate, yet once again, from the universe,the “out there”, the “not me”. It’s like we are needing to remind ourselves that we exist, even long after this “self” has turned to dust. By leaving something behind, we’ve proven to latter generations that we were here and the thought of leaving a legacy is enough to quell the concern that we might not exist.
But we are not me and that, not really. There is an interdependent relationship. I am that and that is me.
While these eyes perceiving the world may fade and return to the source, the returning in of itself is the continuation of it all.
My legacy is in the leaves, the wind, the bumble bee hovering around a flower in spring. This is what is “left behind”. Nothing constructed of my two hands can surpass the real legacy, nor will it be as enduring.