How do you want to be remembered? The answer to this question differs from person to person. To some, a nice invention to be remembered by would be cool. To others, any kind of impact on humanity as a whole that is talked about for generations to come would be all that’s needed. This thought process is one that sits with a lot of people, but it is one born out of the fear of being forgotten, and the lack of meaning we have in the grand scheme of the universe. We understand our lives are finite, and so to circumnavigate this, we attempt to leave our mark on the world, such that we live on—even after death.

I think first I should acknowledge that these feelings are 1000% valid. This is a natural response to the human condition, so much so that philosophers have talked about this for centuries. The existentialists, in particular, understood this "existential anxiety" that arises when we confront the apparent meaninglessness of existence. Kierkegaard spoke of the "dizziness of freedom" (the anxiety of having the freedom to choose), Heidegger of the "uncanniness" of being-in-the-world (humans are always involved in the world, and that the world and humans shape each other), and Sartre of the "nausea" that accompanies the realisation of our freedom. The fear of being forgotten is a manifestation of this same anxiety—that our lives will ultimately amount to nothing, that we will simply disappear without a trace—and that we must leave a legacy to circumnavigate this.

However, the way the problem is framed here—equating a meaningful life with a lasting legacy—is where we can begin to offer a different perspective. To define a fulfilling life as one that leaves a legacy implies that without such a legacy, life is meaningless. This is a common idea, but a problematic one, and one we may come to realise is ultimately unsatisfying. Traditionally, legacy is tied to external validation—fame, recognition, having one's name carved in the very fabric of history. Ancient heroes tried to immortalise themselves through acts of bravery and conquest, the pharaohs built pyramids to house their remains and preserve their memory for eternity, and artists and writers of the Renaissance sought to create works of everlasting beauty that would transcend their own time and place. Some certainly succeeded, but their succeeding isn't a testament to this understanding of meaning being one we should strive for. It is problematic. 

Firstly, it assumes a static and unchanging self, and that a fixed identity that we humans possess can easily be preserved forever. But "the self" is not a thing; it is a process, a dynamic, ever-evolving project of self-creation and understanding. We are constantly making and remaking ourselves through our choices and actions. There is no guarantee that the self we are today will be the self we are tomorrow, let alone the self that will be remembered by future generations.

Secondly, the pursuit of a lasting legacy relies on the illusion of permanence. We want to leave behind something that will outlast us, something that will testify to our having lived. But as Marcus Aurelius reminds us, "All things fade and quickly turn to myth." Even the most enduring monuments, built to sustain the legacy of some king or ruler, eventually crumble, and memories, even of the most famous figures—memories they may have even wanted to be remembered instead of what we know them for—eventually fade.

Thirdly, historical narratives through which legacies are constructed are inherently subjective and selective, shaped by the biases and agendas of those who tell them. We may impact some people, but there is no guarantee they will remember us, and there is no guarantee they will care to retell our story to their children, and if they do, there is certainly no guarantee that their telling of us is without malicious intent or misconstrued.

To seek meaning through external validation places our sense of self-worth in the hands of others, which makes us vulnerable to their judgements, which constantly change. It is not a solid foundation upon which we should build a meaningful life. People may make efforts to socialise with more people in the hope of living on in their memories, and this reflects this very concern. But while connecting with others is undoubtedly valuable, it doesn't fully address the root of the anxiety because it still relies on external validation (unless I'm wrong then ignore the next bit until the end of the paragraph, then carry on). Yes, we should certainly build meaningful relationships with others, but the rationale as to why we are doing so is problematic because we act "as if we were going to live ten thousand years. Death hangs over us. While we live, while it is in our power, be good" (Marcus Aurelius). We should be good because it is the right thing to do, not such that we may leave an impact behind that allows us to live for a few more years after death. Impact is a by-product that comes naturally with acting in accordance with virtue. Do not make it the forefront of our actions. There is more to be said about this in literature surrounding virtue ethics, but that would require a lot more time (I’ll probably write about it later though).

The ball, then, is now in our court. Existentialists would urge us to embrace our freedom and take responsibility for creating our own meaning. This is the path of authenticity, of living a life that is true to ourselves, not as defined by others or by some external standard. Socialising is good, and it is certainly good to want to have a lasting impact on others, but the way we may go about it, like wanting to stay in their memories, is rooted in trying to live after death in some capacity. A meaningful life starts by recognising that our lives are meaningful not because of some objective measure of impact or recognition, but because we choose to make them so. We are free to define our own values, to pursue our own passions, and to create our own unique meaning, regardless of whether it conforms to societal expectations or results in a lasting legacy. To live authentically means understanding that we can't fully control how we are perceived, and that’s okay.

To feel powerlessness and uselessness, to feel that our life lacks impact because it might be easily forgotten, stems from a particular understanding of meaning that equates it with an externally verifiable legacy. But I'd argue we shift our perspective to redefine what it means to have an impact, which is that to find meaning is not to echo into the future but to leave small differences in the present. To talk about the "eternal scheme of things" and the desire to be "known for something more" is understandable, but we should recognise that even the most significant lives, when viewed from a cosmic perspective, appear meaningless. The vastness of time and space dwarfs even the greatest of human achievements. But this does not render our lives meaningless. Meaning is not a function of scale or duration. This function accounts for depth, quality, and the intensity with which we engage with the world and the people around us.

Instead of striving for a legacy that will withstand time, consider (but do not make it the forefront) the "ripple effect" of our actions. Every choice we make, every interaction we have, will send ripples into the world, and affect others in ways we may never fully comprehend. Think of the countless acts of kindness, compassion, and generosity that make up the fabric of everyday life—hell, that have shaped some of the most brilliant thinkers out there. Think of all the mothers, fathers, friends, even strangers that had nurtured their children, helped their acquaintances and random people on the street, and have helped shape those brilliant minds we study in school, all through simple actions like a kind word, a helping hand to someone in need, a moment of genuine connection. In the grand scheme of things, these acts may seem insignificant, but they can have a very deep impact on the lives of others. They can brighten someone's day, offer solace in a time of distress, or even inspire them to pay it forward, creating a chain reaction of positivity that extends far beyond our initial action. Imagine how a single smile, a single gesture of goodwill could have prevented the suicide of even one human being. These are the things that are truly meaningful, but may not be realised or seen as meaningful in the grand scheme of things. And these aren't actions done for the intention of living on in someone's memory. They were done simply because it was the right thing to do. A virtue of kindness cultivated in an individual allows for kindness to be reciprocated in a chain reaction, one that the original agent may not even realise. The agent didn’t act with kindness because they expected some sort of chain reaction or recognition, but because it was kind.

This is not to say that we should abandon all concern for the future. A meaningful life involves a commitment to something larger than ourselves, something that is more than our individual existence. But instead of focusing on leaving behind a tangible legacy, we can focus on contributing to the ongoing flow of human experience, and on making the world a slightly better place through our everyday actions. Moreover, keeping the ripple effect in mind allows us to find meaning in the present moment, rather than constantly striving for some future recognition. It frees us from the never-ending chase of external validation and allows us to focus on the quality of our engagement with the world and the people in it. We can do this through cultivating presence, mindfulness, and a genuine appreciation for the interconnectedness of all things. And by doing this, we will realise we will discover a deep appreciation for meaning, defined as one that is always available to us, regardless of whether our names are remembered by future generations (I think at the heart of this lies the cultivation of virtues, although that's an entire topic on its own, which is why I say that some sort of remembrance should never be at the forefront of your actions).

Ultimately, the fear of being forgotten is a fear of the unknown. Death is coming; we cannot avoid it, and so we look for ways to outlive it. But by shifting our focus from the external to the internal, from the future to the present, and from the quantitative to the qualitative, we can find a sense of meaning and purpose that is not dependent on the judgments of others or the illusion of a semi-permanent legacy. We can embrace our freedom, take responsibility for our choices, and create a life that is both authentic and meaningful, a life that ripples outward, touching the lives of others and contributing to the ongoing story of humanity, and at the heart of that, being a good and virtuous person. Even if our individual names are forgotten, the positive impact of our actions, however small, can continue to resonate through the world, creating a "legacy" that is not written in stone, but into the fabric of our experiences.

We are a drop in the ocean, but remember, every single drop creates ripples. Our actions now can have positive impacts on other people's lives, and their lives, and so on, far into the future. Even if it doesn't last forever. It is up to us to decide what those impacts will be.

References

• Aurelius, M. (2003). Meditations: A New Translation (G. Hays, Trans.; Revised ed. edition). Random House Publishing Group. (My favourite translation) Access Here
• Heidegger, M. (1978). Being and Time (1st edition). Wiley-Blackwell. Access Here
• Kierkegaard, S., & Anderson, A. B. (1981). The Concept of Anxiety: A Simple Psychologically Orienting Deliberation on the Dogmatic Issue of Hereditary Sin (R. Thomte, Ed.; unknown edition). Princeton University Press. Access Here
• Sartre, J.-P., & Wood, J. (2000). Nausea (R. Baldick, Trans.; New Ed edition). Penguin Classics. Access Here