Your Life and Posessions . . . in 2123
I’m not used to thinking where I will be in 100 years, but that’s what I was doing a few days ago. A friend sent this reel by someone I’d never heard of. It’s about what happens to you and everything you own in 100 years.
Take a look (it’s just over a minute).
I was struck by the voice (Aussie), the music, the images of that grand Victorian mansion. It wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t know, but somehow this reel made it real. We all know that everything is impermanent, passing away, but that knowledge is stored in some cellar of our brains where we keep “interesting concepts.” It doesn’t register as real. It certainly doesn’t affect our daily decisions about how to live our lives.
When the voice said, “Strangers will live in our homes that we worked so hard to build,” I jumped. Pam and I built this house. It’s ours. Every room, every stone wall and garden expresses who we are, or who we want to be. But in 100 years, all of that would belong to some stranger who did not know us.
I think the voice was wrong about our memory, and the way our lives ripple out for generations after generations, for good and for ill. Every small investment in a child, a grandchild—ours and others’—shifts the trajectory of a life that, in turn, changes the destiny of another succeeding life. That will last a hundred years and more.
But about the things, the possessions, our one fragile human life—the voice was astonishingly right. Watch it again.
It’s amazing that we are usually more interested in what we can slap a plaque on than what will be truly consequential long after we are gone. Who we are and how we have loved (or withheld love, sadly) will live on in amazing ways we cannot imagine. We just won’t get credit for it…
Ha! “We just won’t get credit.” I like that. (Actually, I don’t.)
Very thought-provoking. You go to an antique mall today and see racks of fur coats that used to be luxury items, fine china no one buys, little figurines so avidly collected all gathering dust. The life we create should be so much more.
Very well said: “The life we live should be so much more.”
What struck me is how little we know of our ancestors. Yes, it’s true our “things” will be acquired by others. But it’s amazing how little I know about my great grandparents. And the great-greats? I need the family tree even to recall their names.
I read the bios of “famous” people. As a result I know more about complete strangers than I do of my own family line. What does that say about me? That you matter to me if you’re famous. If you’re not, you don’t–even if your my flesh and blood. Pretty sobering.
But I guess it’s hard to find out about my great-greats. There’s not a lot of material.
Ah, well, it’s complicated. But a very good lesson anyway. Makes me think.
Thanks, David!
That was another sobering part about that reel–“how many people know their grandfather’s father?” I was totally stumped. It’s interesting that there seems to have been a resurgence in people wanting to fill out their family tree–and now with genetic testing and the popularity of 23 And Me, and Ancestry.com, people are finding out about their great grandparents. So, if this keeps up–maybe in a hundred years our descendants WILL know us!
Holy conjuring up 1000 thoughts! First off I’d always wanted a Victorian house and bought one in Darien in 2002..sold it in 2019 because of the divorce..it’s 1/2 a mile from my current home and so weird to me that someone else lives there and that I know them. I did a renovation there in 2005 thinking I’d be there forever. I think in terms of “will this matter in 5 (not 100) years” all the time, it’s definitely great perspective. As a result of the reel I asked my Dad about both of his grandfathers because I know nothing about them. I got sober because it was that or death but I do think about maybe having some sort of positive impact on a multi-generational curse.
That’s powerful, Matt–asking about your great grandparents, and deciding to use whatever influence you have to break that “multi-generational curse.” Your actions will ripple for who knows how many years and years.
Great advice: “If it won’t matter in 5 years, don’t spend more than 5 minutes being upset about it.”
I actually wrote that on a stickie n my desk…
Thank you David.
I had seen this video sometime before the holidays, and it certainly gave me a new perspective on ‘gift-giving’ this year. My cabinets are crammed with ‘things’ that my daughter has made clear she has no interest in. I’ve already begun selling or giving away some of these ‘things’ in an effort to declutter and focus on more experience based ‘gifts’. Even if it is only a quiet afternoon spent reminiscing and not an elaborate trip. I have always been saddened when I see an older, charming home being torn down and replaced with something three times larger and often lacking the same character. I think of someone growing up in that particular house and it now being just a momentary memory. Thank you for reminding us, me that we are responsible for the form and content that our legacy takes, by how we live, treat others and in our faith- not necessarily in the stock portfolio we pass on. Best to Pam.
Thanks, John—you’re living this movement, from all the things that were once quite necessary and now aren’t.