Papa David used to say, “The only thing you have is your name.”
These words echoed in the corridors of my adolescence, becoming a soundtrack to my ambitions. As a child, the significance of these words was cloaked in mystery, a cryptic message left to be unraveled. I remember how my mother would repeat this mantra while tending to our garden, her hands delicately nurturing the plants as she nurtured her reputation in the community with equal care and attention.
Her interpretation was clear and straightforward: a name is built by actions, fortified by goodwill, and remembered for the kindness it spreads. But for me, it stirred a deeper, restless curiosity. I wondered if the weight of one’s name could really tip the scales of fate. Could a name be a spell that conjures storms or calms seas? Does yours?
In my view, a name carries both presence and legacy; it's the immediate impact we have on those around us and the lingering essence we leave behind. Presence is palpable, immediate—like a firm handshake or a steady gaze. Legacy, however, is more elusive, shifting with the sands of time and memory.
How will your presence change when you depart? What will that legacy be?
I want my name to be imprinted on the world: my presence shaking the heavens and earth and my legacy remaining ingrained in people’s minds long after I’m gone. Alexander the Great, Aristotle, Einstein, and Helen of Troy all burned their brand onto our history books. Did you? Echoing the words of my college essay: “I want to create things that spark that same feeling of wonder I got when I sat in the bright light of a campfire reading stories from ages long past.” Did you ever find out if there was space for that kind of purpose in the indelible names of our forefathers?
The urge to carve out a niche, to mark my era, to be remembered—is it vanity, a noble pursuit, or a bit of both? The names that lingered through history weren’t just carriers of deeds; they were beacons of influence and power. What is your right to stand amongst those names? How did you achieve such a thing?
As I navigate the murky waters of adulthood, my grand designs often feel more like daydreams—vast and indistinct. My ideas and plans are all wishy-washy, half-fleshed out and blown to the size of a grandeur that my mind cannot comprehend. It’s like I’m staring up a gargantuan snake, and I can only see one of its scales. In the quiet hours after everyone is asleep, I often wonder if you have figured it all out. Or are you, like me, still piecing together the puzzle?
“I feel like my potential for greatness is slowly dwindling. Fuck that,” Is written in sharpie on tape stuck to my mirror right now. You must have realized your potential and become great, I’m sure of it.
Consistency is key, and motivation is a trap. I’m sure you remember my “Get Shit Done Book”, where I track how many days in a row I complete all tasks I set for myself. I’m at 25+ days of being on day 0. There have been 5 days where I’ve successfully gotten to day 1, but never further. Is the problem that I’m giving myself too many tasks to do in a day, or am I just fundamentally incapable of finishing all my tasks in a day? I’m definitely more productive right now, but I know I can be doing better. You’re leagues ahead of me; I’m sure you don’t even need that goddamn book anymore.
Did you push the boulder up the hill, every day, every minute, every second? Or did you fall from the sky, blinded by the sun?
How do I get to where you are, when I don’t even know where that is?