I went through a phase in college where I was big into existentialism. Or at least, I thought I was. 

I fell in love with the idea that nothing matters. And in truth, I still believe that… at least in an absolute sense.

It started with a book I read, Another Roadside Attraction by Tom Robbins. It wasn’t heavy-handed about a message, but it noted that many people are fixated on finding the meaning of life, but what is the meaning of meaning?

That got my head spinning, and eventually I came to the conclusion that meaning is a human construct; nothing has intrinsic meaning. A sunset doesn’t mean anything. Neither does a song, or a marriage, or a life.

Meaning only exists because we assign it.

Some may find that depressing. I find it to be quite the opposite. Empowering, even.

Because if meaning is something we create, then it doesn’t have to exist on a cosmic scale to be real.

If you matter to someone, to anyone, then your life has meaning. 

For a while, I called this “coexistentialism”. Years later, I discovered that my personal philosophy lands closer to pragmatic humanism (doesn’t have as fun a name, I know).

Anyway, labels aside — this all came to mind recently when I was asked about my “legacy”. What does legacy mean to me? What do I want to leave behind?

And I realized I don’t really have a good answer.

Some people have a long list of places they want to go, things they want to accomplish, and mountains they want to climb.

Other folks want to build something that outlives them. A company. A body of work. A name people recognize after they’re gone.

I’ve never really wanted either. 

All I want, in my heart of hearts, is to have people in my life who decidedly feel that their life is better for having me in it.

So I live my life treating others well, and valuing our time together, not for what we’re doing but for who we’re doing it with.

Or, as two of history’s greatest philosophers once put it:

current mood: thoughtful

current music: mumford & sons – alleycat