When we think of legacy, we often picture it as something monumental—a grand achievement, a lasting impact that outlives us. For many, it’s tied to the end of life, to what remains after we’re gone. But I’ve come to understand that legacy is much more fluid. It’s not just what we leave behind when we die, but also what we leave behind every time we evolve, grow, or simply walk out of a room.
This perspective didn’t come to me in a vacuum. It’s the product of years spent caregiving, of sitting with death—not in abstract terms, but as an active presence. I’ve walked alongside people as they transitioned from life to death. I’ve carried the weight of decisions, the quiet moments of acceptance, and the unspoken grief that often fills those spaces. These experiences, which are more common in old age, became part of my life long before most people around me were ready to face them.
Because of this, I’ve had to adapt and evolve in ways that can seem foreign to others. Some even call me “weird.” But I know I’m not weird—I’m just different. My experiences have shaped me, forcing me to confront truths, unknowns, and misconceptions that many never have the opportunity—or perhaps the desire—to face. And through it all, I’ve grown. I’ve ascended past obstacles that might have otherwise held me back, and I’ve come to see legacy as something far more intricate and immediate than I once thought.
Legacy isn’t reserved for the grand gestures or life-changing accomplishments. It’s in the moments we often overlook—the small, seemingly insignificant exchanges that make up our days. What you leave behind when you walk out of a room, a store, a doctor’s office, or a meeting is just as much a part of your legacy as anything else.
It’s in the way you offer a genuine smile to the cashier at the grocery store, making their day just a little brighter. It’s in the patience you show during a frustrating encounter, choosing understanding over anger. It’s in the warmth of your presence in a room, the way you make others feel seen, heard, and valued. These moments may seem fleeting, but they create ripples—ripples that touch lives and leave impressions far beyond what we can see.
Legacy, then, becomes less about what you achieve and more about how you live. It’s about the energy you bring into the spaces you occupy and the impact you have on the people you meet, even if only for a moment. Every word you speak, every choice you make, every interaction you have carries the potential to add to the tapestry of your legacy.
If you feel like you’ve run out of time to leave a meaningful legacy, I want to gently challenge that belief. You haven’t. Time is not the enemy, nor is it the measure of what you leave behind. Legacy isn’t built in one grand act; it’s shaped moment by moment, in the small, consistent ways you choose to show up in the world.
So, ask yourself: What do you want to leave behind when you walk out of a room? What part of yourself are you offering to others, even in the smallest interactions? What is the essence of you that will remain, not just when you physically leave this earth, but every time you step out of a space?
Maybe the answer is love. Maybe it’s kindness, peace, joy, or wisdom. Whatever it is, you get to choose. Every day, every moment is an opportunity to reflect on the legacy you’re creating.
The beauty of this perspective is its simplicity. You don’t have to wait for a “perfect” moment to begin shaping your legacy. You don’t have to have it all figured out. All you need is the intention to live with awareness, to be mindful of how your presence affects the world around you, and to infuse your daily life with the essence of what matters most to you.
Legacy isn’t something you leave behind only after you’re full-stop “gone.” It’s what you leave behind every time you leave a room, a conversation, or even someone’s thoughts. So, the next time you walk out of a space, remember: that’s your legacy, too.
And when you make the conscious choice to leave behind love, kindness, or light, you’ll find that your legacy isn’t something you need to chase. It’s something you’re already living, moment by moment, breath by breath.
The Twin Tree Project 