The need to make a difference in the world magnifies for some people as they age. It certainly has for me. I wake up every day to things that I can do that make a difference for people that day, but I fear that only a fraction of the momentum generated by my efforts will carry on after I am gone. Like many, I want to leave this existence with the biggest impression of contribution that I possibly can. Being in the history books, or at least on Wikepedia for hundreds of years after my body is cremated and sprinkled off the coast gives me a sense of accomplishment.
It’s kind of weird that so many humans, me included, worry about what people they never met, or will come generations after them, think of them after they die – while not giving much, if any, thought to what people think of them while they breathe the same air.