There was a time in my life where I wanted to climb the corporate ladder. Ok, it wasn’t corporate, it was academic, but it was just as stifling, rigorous and it definitely paid less than any corporate ladder.
Like many other academically gifted and undiagnosed ADHD millennials, I burned out before my 30th birthday. Before I recognized that the girlboss lifestyle was damaging, I blamed it on my home environment. I became a self-proclaimed minimalist. I lived in a 188 sq foot Airstream and I truly did learn that I prefer a life with less stuff.
But what I didn’t learn as quickly or as easily was that the stuff is the physical manifestation of a capitalist lifestyle. It’s what I could buy with that “success.” And that kind of success was hollow. It’s the kind of success that you can set on a shelf and maybe one day write in an obituary, but it’s not the kind of success that feels exciting or rewarding or like a legacy.
As a childless-by-choice couple in our late 30s and early 40s, my husband and I talk about legacy a lot. Our nephew and niece might have memories of their weird aunt and uncle, but we won’t be in the memory of our kids or grandkids. So how do we want to be remembered?
I want to be remembered as a storyteller. That story can take many forms. It can be written, spoken, painted, shaped, designed, molded and grown. But most of all, I want my stories to make the earth a little better, a little brighter, a little happier and a little more hopeful.
“Ok, that’s great, Melanie, but you and I still have to pay our bills. We have to eat! We have to keep going to our silly little jobs.” I know, friends, I know. I hope one day we can all lay in the sun, eat fruit and tell stories about how silly it was to want anything more than just that.
This is merely a reminder that your job is not your life. Your job probably isn’t even your legacy.
And sometimes doing less is the most sustainable thing you can do— for yourself, for the planet and for the future.
If you’re having a little trouble finding your legacy, remember that it’s ok for your legacy to change. It’s also ok for it to be as simple as: “the happiest person I knew.” Or, “the kindest person I knew.” Or, “the funniest person I knew.”
Here’s a few of questions to ask yourself when imagining your legacy:
What do I value?
What are my talents?
What do I want people to say about me?
What daily, tangible steps can I take to add to my legacy?
What kind of relationships do I want to cultivate?
You know… all those big life questions!
Do you think about your legacy often? What do you want to be remembered for?
Telling you stories by the digital campfire,
Melanie
Hi Melanie, what a perfectly timed post! I am 28 and started an impressive sounding job this year and I recently realized how much I dislike it and how little desire I have to climb the corporate ladder. I keep thinking of ways to pivot and be happier, but find faults with a lot of other paths and the way it all ties into capitalism. I really appreciate the reminder that jobs are not our legacy and love the helpful questions to think about as I continue to figure this out! I’ve enjoyed following you for the past several years and have found your posts and content to be really impactful and helpful!
I've been spending a lot of time lately unpacking why so much of my identity is tied up with succeeding at my job (a job I don't necessarily enjoy) and how that has made what I hope to be my legacy harder to achieve. So much to work through when yes, we have to earn money, but also so much of what society tells us will make us feel successful and will give us a good legacy isn't really what will make all of us happy. Needless to say, I loved reading this Melanie. Did my therapist call you and tell you to write it? lol