Legacy: What's Yours?

Instant gratification seems to be the theme of our generation. Let’s all just live for ourselves and the current moment; YOLO right?

Yesterday I had a bout of spare time, and found my mind strolling down deep avenues of thought. What led it there, I cannot recall, but nonetheless I caught myself mulling over the word legacy. As a girl of nineteen and three quarters, I’d probably be told by people of my age to stop acting like a retiree and concern myself with more trendy avenues of thought like what filter to use on my next instagram. This just goes to show, that my generation (myself included) pay little or no mind to the concept of legacy and the taste our lives will leave in the mouth of this planet once we are no more.

This is not about ‘save the trees’ or ‘go green,’ but the reality that whether we live like it or not, every one of us will leave our footprint on this planet in some way, shape or form. For some it will be a bloodline of beautiful children and grandchildren, for others it will be a worldwide business concept that changes the face of the globe (think Bill Gates or Mark Zuckerberg), or perhaps a series of novels that will make their way onto the bedside table of children everywhere.

Yesterday, I was caught up with identifying the legacies that have been left behind for me; the ceilings of previous generations that have become the floors on which my generation stands. There have been people throughout history that have fought for a day they would never see. Paid prices for things they’d never taste, and given their lives for people they would never meet. Think of the freedom fighters who shed their blood on the battlefield of human rights. Think of the 15^th century bible translators that traded their lives in order for the word of God to be read by every nation. Think of the inventors that stared in the face of failure and said “it can be done,” just so we could switch on a light, or pick up the phone, or hop on a plane.

Then there are legacies that live on in the hearts of men and women. The legacies unseen and untold that have their substance in the deep inner places of people that span the generational gaps. Legacies of love, of peace, of undeserved kindness. With every measure of oxygen inhaled, we are writing our stories, creating our legacies. A child is born onto a blank canvas on which he paints the picture of his life that will only be seen in it’s full measure by those who will one day stand at a distance and observe the portrait.  I want the canvas of my life to be an invaluable masterpiece that warms the heart and moistens the eyes of all that will one day enjoy its colors and brushstrokes.

If my life were to know no tomorrow, I want my head to rest assured on my pillow tonight in the knowledge that I lived a life that was a sweet taste in the mouth of this world and all it’s people.

I am creating my legacy, are you?

{Background image from emilymcmanus}

Elegance

I have just finished a 5 week course called 'The Writer's Eye' which is one of the electives that form part of my ministry school syllabus. I loved this little adventure of falling in love with words and eloquent sentences all over again. Not only was it therapeutic and enjoyable, but really enabled me to refine my writing ability further.
Our last assignment was to read out a composition that we had begun during class and then fine-tuned during our own time. I chose to take an abstract noun and give it a personal definition, much like C.S Lewis did with the word 'Pride' in his book 'Mere Christianity.' I chose one of my favorite words, 'elegance.'


Elegance:
The walls were reverberating with the gong of incessant chatter. Everywhere your eyes darted there were clusters of sophisticates competing for the conversational spotlight, and there wasn’t a square space in the room that was void of diamonds or Dulce and Gabana. But, all it took was one of her feet to touch down in the room, and every mouth slammed shut while every neck strained to catch a glimpse of elegance. Was it her dress? Surely not, it barely cost more than twenty dollars. Was it her face? No, It couldn’t be, there were lines around her mouth and on her forehead that told tales of a life joyfully spent. Maybe it was her physique? Definitely not, her form boasted to the world that she had mothered many children. What then, was the origin of elegance?

It lay somewhere in the way that she graciously formed pictures with her hands as she spoke and exposed a gorgeously crooked smile when she threw her head back and laughed.  It was in the way she had made herself comfortably at home within her own skin and gave others the liberty to do the same in theirs. Elegance never takes herself too seriously, nor does she strive to reflect her name any more than the morning sun strives to make it’s way over the mountains. She is constant. She effortlessly exudes timeless grace as if it is the substance in which she daily bathes.

Elegance is not the catwalk queen with legs that stretch from now until next Tuesday. Nor is it the familiar flawless face on the cover of this week’s Vogue proudly brought to you by botox and photoshop.  The pioneer of fashion herself, Coco Chanel even once uttered, “elegance does not consist of putting on a new dress.”

With the definition of elegance vaguely and arbitrarily understood, in my attempt at defining the indefinable, I would call it timeless tastefulness and classic confidence. However, not the kind that begs to be noticed but rather because it is rarely seen, it is seldom overlooked. It is more than conduct. It is a state of being. It is as much a part of someone as an ear or an eye, and they can no more help being elegant than a cherry tree can help bearing blossoms in spring. Elegance is the mother of beauty, and it delights in taking hold of something ordinary and making it extraordinary.

My definition of elegance comes from where I seek to find it. Where do I see elegance? I see it in the “V” shaped formation the birds make as they disappear into the sunset and in the twirl of a little girl’s dress as she dances before daddy. I see it in the pearl on a necklace of an elderly woman who never lost the twinkle of the twenties and in the eyes of a mother that saves the world one band aid at a time whilst still managing to have dinner on the table by six. 

Like rays of light streaming through a blanket of clouds, elegance is the element of another world that every once in a while creeps into ours, permitting us to capture a blink of heaven.

{Images: ángeles peña on Flickr}