I recently attended a memorial service for a respected leader in our community. I have been close to his family for over half of my life. He and I got to know each other one winter when we shared a small cabin, in the dead of winter, above the Arctic Circle. We had a lot of time to talk. Legacy was evident in every heartfelt moment.

He died a week before his 90th birthday. The birthday party was already planned—so the family just decided to use the time to remember him. But it still felt like a birthday party. Or family reunion.

Hundreds and hundreds of people were there.

The ‘service’ was short. His son read a letter that this man had written to be read at his memorial. He wrote it the week before he died. His letter was full of humor, clarity, and peace. He knew where he was going. He was ready—in the best kind of way.

A life well lived.

Later, I thought about some difficult funerals I’ve been to. Ones where there were unanswered questions. Ones for people who had existed more than lived. Or ones for people who had lived badly. Those are awkward services. What’s not said is louder than what is.

Most of my readers are leaders. If that’s you, you are probably building, growing, or fixing something. It can be very easy to get caught up in goals. But suddenly—maybe sooner than you expect—it comes to an end.

What makes a life well lived?

What Makes a Solid Legacy?

Legacy is about the ongoing impact we leave through our leadership and the people we uplift.

Many leaders think about legacy. That’s legitimate. But very few have defined what they want their legacy to be. Or what actually endures.

What is a solid legacy made of?

Most leaders struggle to answer this.

It’s not just about being remembered. People are remembered for all kinds of reasons—and often not for the reasons they intended.

Perhaps it’s the continuation of a company you’ve built. Or a clean handoff to someone who is reasonably competent.

These are all forms of legacy. But at the end of the day—for leaders—it’s about the people we’ve built.

If your leadership dies with you, was it ever really leadership?

Perhaps legacy isn’t about what stays visible. It is about what keeps moving.

Perhaps it is measured more in the value we’ve added to other’s lives. How we treated people. How we helped others live bigger, fuller lives.

We can miss that in the pursuit of professional success. Or chasing targets. But these aren’t mutually exclusive. We can still work to win and build people.

It’s easy to talk about legacy. Difficult to live the life you want remembered. I know many leaders who want to be remembered for building people. And I believe them. But they don’t lead that way. Instead, they use others as tools for their goals.

Their legacy may not be what they expect.

The man we remembered that day—he was ready. I don’t know what his thoughts were about legacy. But he left one anyway.

What would it take for you to be as ready as he was?

If your team held a “memorial” after you exited—what would they talk about? Or would the silence be loud?

None of us are getting out of this alive.

But some of us will leave something—in others—worth carrying forward.

Take good care,

Christian