As children were playing and adults were happily chatting away, I found myself in conversation with Linda, a beautiful woman in her 70s. We were exchanging pleasantries and talking about life in Southern Tasmania. We got onto the topic of gardening and our shared appreciation for all things cultivating, planting, weeding, and everything in between.

I proceeded to tell Linda that when I moved into my property, one of my neighbours had informed me about the previous owners, Nick and Macy, and how they were avid gardeners and well known for their horticultural wisdom. The couple had spent years investing in the soil, nurturing it diligently. By the time I had moved in the grass was overgrown, but underneath the shrubbery, the ground was thriving with worms and bugs and still had that sought after chocolate cake consistency.

I told Linda that while my husband and I didn’t have any gardening experience, we relished the idea of creating a beautiful space that could grow our fresh produce, and a surplus to share with our friends too. Garlic, tomatoes, broad beans, silverbeet, and potatoes. It wasn’t a lot to begin with but we tended to it as much as we could. We built compost bins from recycled wood and sourced and stripped bamboo culms to create bespoke garden enclosures. The natural materials were both functional and aesthetically pleasing. That was our aim – to ensure that nothing artificial entered this space. No plastics, no treated materials, nothing that could seep into the ground and interfere with the organic evolution of growth. Even though we didn’t know Nick and Macy, we wanted to honour their legacy.

As I regaled Linda with my intentions for our future art-garden, I observed her presence. She was listening intently and smiling. She said, “Annia, talking to you and hearing this today is powerful.” At first, I thought she was being kind and simply appreciated that the next generation of families are keen to preserve the land. But that wasn’t it. Linda told me that serendipitously, she was Macy’s best friend, and that Macy was dying. “She was diagnosed with cancer, and it spread to her brain. They say Macy only has a few weeks left,” Linda explained. She continued, “You know, the cancer attacked the part of her brain that controls speech, but she can still hear, and I can’t wait to tell her this because I think it will make her happy to know.”

Maybe you already know what you want your legacy to stand for. Perhaps you’re already that way attuned. But asking yourself the following questions can be a good way to provide further clarity:

1. If you knew you only had five years left to live, how would you live your life, and why?
2. Imagine you were able to attend your own funeral. What would you absolutely love to hear your favourite people say about you?
3. If you could leave the world one sentence to read about you and what you stood for, what would that be.

We avoid thinking about our death. That’s normal. None of us want to be reminded that our time is limited. However, contemplating our legacy can be empowering. It can offer us permission to adjust our behaviour and make choices that feel more aligned with how we want to be remembered. Because at the end of the day, that’s what we all want. We long to know our lives were meaningful and that what we did, and how we did it, influenced others in a positive way.

Sometimes we think of legacy as having to be something monumental such as achieving global success or being known for making remarkable contributions to society. The truth is legacy is about the small things. The way you speak to your kids when you’re tired from not having slept well the night before, the way you greet the barista who serves you coffee each morning or the way you choose to prioritise your self-care practices when so much else also needs doing. Because regardless of whether you think about your death or not, you’re already creating a legacy. It’s how you show up and how you choose to share yourself with others.

None of us will ever comprehend how our life’s choices will influence the world after we’re gone, but nurturing the seeds of our legacy now, be it through our love of gardening, our desire to commit to our goals, or our willingness to better understand ourselves, can leave us feeling a little lighter about the inevitabilities of our limited time here together. Think about your legacy.

Annia Baron is a Clinical Psychologist & Mindset Coach. Want to create a life you desire and deserve? Get in touch on Instagram @anniabaron or visit www.remindyourself.com