I recently spent a few weeks in Rennes, France, visiting family.
I always cherish these moments in my hometown, where every place, object, or conversation brings back memories.
My “madeleines de Proust” abound!
I also like to walk these streets named after inventors, scientists, and politicians who are now forgotten by most.
When I was younger, growing up there, I had secret dreams of having my name on one of these plaques someday.
With my creative mind on steroids and decades spent in the hi-tech business, I aspired to be remembered for my positive contributions.
I was not alone. Most leaders want to leave their mark, and as long as their egos don’t grow out of proportion, there’s nothing wrong with that..
Whether for your work achievements or the equally impressive energy required to raise your children, wishing to be remembered and leaving some legacy is naturally human.
Yet, the reality is that most of us will soon be forgotten.
It doesn’t take more than a few quarters at work to forget about previous contributors.
With friends and family, your legacy will last a bit more. But even having children doesn’t guarantee that a part of you will always stick around. While your DNA might keep circulating, your name will eventually disappear.
And beyond two generations, most of us will fall into the abysses of the unknown. The only person I remember from that wedding picture is my Grandma, Angèle. Well, it also helped that she lived until the honorable age of 95 in 2005.
But what about celebrities? They, too, eventually disappear or get commoditized, even in a country like France, deeply rooted in history and its past heroes.
Roland Garros is now more known as the French Open tennis tournament than the aviator who first flew across the Mediterranean in 1913.
For as long as the airport keeps that name, Charles de Gaulle will eventually be primarily known as a flight destination, not the great statesman.
Should we be depressed about it?
I used to, but I’m not anymore!
I’ve come to realize I’d better avoid any legacy aspiration, whether at work or in any aspect of my life.
And guess what?
Something powerful happened: tremendous freedom.
People don’t remember records for a reason: they’re meant to be beaten. So, instead of chasing that delusional GOAT quest (Greatest Of All Times), I’ve redirected my energy to learning things I’m genuinely interested in.
This doesn’t mean I’m not aspiring to excellence anymore or that I don’t have goals or a vision. My passion for product creation, effective leadership, running, and even sailing all help push my boundaries in these domains.
But I’m not concerned about being remembered for my performance there. Although I have a competitive edge, it lives in the present, not the distant future.
It also doesn’t mean I don’t get that thrill when I’m doing well and being noticed. But the thrill is in the moment—it’s now.
And that’s quite liberating.
The best contribution you can have at work is how to impact what you and your teams are doing now. Don’t chase elusive distant recognition.
The best mark you can leave to your friends and family will soon be out of your hands. Maybe they’ll do something great with it, but it’s mostly up to them. Your fulfillment with them is in the here and now.
So, let go of the desire to be remembered, and you’ll embrace the richness of each present moment.