I do not believe in the concept of legacy. This idea that one should work tirelessly, striving to do good so that they may be remembered after death, is, in my view, an inadequate way to live. And yet, it has become widely accepted as an altruistic and noble pursuit. I cannot agree.
A human being is composed of three distinct components: the body, the soul, and the spirit. While these three are separate, they cannot exist in this physical realm without collaboration. The body is the physical medium, the tangible form we see and touch. It houses the organs and enables interaction with the world. Yet, on its own, the body cannot be called a human being. If you were to 3-D print a human body, complete with functioning organs and connect a cannister of oxygen, it would still remain lifeless. What animates the body is the presence of the soul.
The soul is the seat of emotions, intellect, and desires. It is where thoughts are born, where love and ambition reside, and where sorrow and joy take root. To prove the dependency of the soul on the body, think about the gains we have made in the world of science, why then have we not been able to create a human being from a lab? We have reverse-engineered the brain, heart and many other organs; bio-hacked sensory functions, yet no human. We have even preserved the brains of many great individuals, keeping some aspects of their brain tissue alive. Yet, these preserved organs do not think, feel, or create. The soul, distinct from the body, cannot exist independently of it. The soul finds expression only through the flesh, weaving the abstract into the tangible.
But the soul is not transient in the same way the spirit is (more on that later). When the body dies, the soul ceases to exist, not because it “dies” in a traditional sense, but because the medium through which it expresses itself is gone. The body and soul are paired together, none can function without the other. It’s akin to a gasline-powered car; no matter how good the car is, it cannot run without gas. And no matter how potent the gas is, it cannot generate locomotion on its own. The soul would be the “gas” in this case, if you were wondering.
The spirit, however, is eternal. It exists independently of the physical body and soul, transcending the limitations of both. Unlike the soul, which is driven by emotions, desires, and the influence of the physical world, the spirit is connected to higher realms. It is not swayed by the books you read or the music you hear. Its nourishment comes from spiritual engagement, and it is concerned only with eternal matters. The spirit does not crave recognition, validation, or remembrance.
Yet there is something profound about the union of body and soul, for without it, we would not have the unique opportunity to access the spirit while living in this physical world. This life offers us a singular portal, a rare chance to consciously connect with the spirit without becoming spirit beings ourselves. In life, we can touch the eternal while still being grounded in the material. This balance, this intersection between the finite and the infinite, is one of the great privileges of existence. It suggests that life should be spent cultivating this connection, maximizing the opportunity to engage with the spirit while still experiencing the richness of the physical realm.
When people die, they cease to exist in this consciousness, the body decays, and the desires and emotions of the soul vanish. The part of you that craves remembrance, the part that seeks to leave a legacy, is buried with the soul. It is the soul that yearns for immortality in the hearts and minds of others. The spirit, however, has no such concerns.
Death, then, is not the tragedy we perceive it to be. For the one who dies, there is no awareness of what has been left behind, no regrets, no unfulfilled ambitions, no pride in accomplishments. Death is only tragic for those who remain, for the living who carry memories in their souls. For the dead, it is a release. They are taken to a realm where time is not linear, where existence is not bound by atoms and molecules, and where the struggles of this world cease to matter. To the dead, there is no care for legacy. It is akin to sleep. When you sleep, you are unconcerned with the tasks you left unfinished while awake. You slip into dreams, where the soul takes you on a journey (some believe dreams are also a way for the spirit to communicate).
So why, then, do we spend so much of our lives consumed by what the soul desires, by this need to be remembered, when we could instead nurture the part of us that truly matters, the spirit? When was the last time you fed your spirit, the eternal part of yourself? When did you last act, not out of a desire for recognition or remembrance, but from the quiet inclinations of your spirit?
Legacy is fleeting. What matters is not how you will be remembered but how you live now, while you can still feel, laugh, love, and breathe. To live for legacy is to chase a shadow. The logic is simple, when you die, you cease to experience. There is no backstage from which you watch your monument being unveiled, no balcony seat for the tributes. Legacy is a story told by the living, to the living, about someone who is no longer there to hear it, memory belongs to those who remember. If the point of chasing legacy is to secure some posthumous satisfaction, it cannot deliver. The customer for that product goes out of existence at the exact moment of delivery. The only true immortality lies in the spirit, and the spirit is not concerned with applause.
Living for legacy also warps the present. It turns relationships into instruments and actions into branding. You start asking, “How will this look later?” instead of “What is right now?” That swap is subtle but corrosive. It can tempt you to choose spectacle over substance, visibility over integrity, and grand gestures over quiet reliability. Statues don’t hug you back. The pressure to be “remembered” can pull you away from the small, unglamorous acts that actually make life humane.
The only legacy that truly exists is the life you live while you are alive. It is found in the moments that bring you joy, in the connections you deepen, and in the peace you cultivate within yourself. To sacrifice your present, to deny yourself the fullness of life in pursuit of a legacy, is to misunderstand the purpose of existence. The best way to prepare for death is not to leave behind monuments or names etched in stone. It is to align yourself with your spirit, to engage with that eternal part of you, so you are prepared for the life that follows this one.
Miracle.