Historical eras are defined by their conception of the future. When we appraise previous generations, we do so by examining how they conceptualized the future, the decisions they made in anticipation of it, and the ways they built their societies to align with their vision of tomorrow.
For our generation, the question of legacy looms large: What will our reputation as ancestors be?
There’s a strange paradox at the heart of human ambition: the more we achieve, the more restless we become. Our achievements—personally and collectively—no matter how grand, never seem definitive. They hint at something greater just out of reach—something we can’t name but feel. We aren’t content with success as an end in itself. Wealth is rarely enough. Neither is power. The common thread in every aspirational pursuit is a subtle, unspoken ache: I want this to mean something. This isn’t just personal ambition—it’s existential.
This ache points to a profound truth. We are wired with desires nothing on earth can satisfy because we’re meant for something beyond it. There is a built-in dissatisfaction to success, seemingly designed to leave us wanting more. However, rather than acknowledging and confronting this deeper longing, we have avoided it. We have conflated recognition with significance and applause with meaning. In doing so, we trade the pursuit of true fulfillment for fleeting validation and lose sight of the deeper reality: our restlessness is meant to draw us toward something greater.
Ambition is not wrong, but it’s incomplete. The weight we carry isn’t just the pressure to succeed; it’s the burden of knowing that success alone can’t fulfill us.
We instinctively reach for permanence. We build legacies—companies, families, institutions—not just for ourselves but for future generations. The mother whispers stories to her child, knowing that memory is a fragile yet enduring thread. The entrepreneur dreams of a company that thrives long after their hands have left the reins. The artist pours heart and soul into their work, hoping their voice will echo when they are gone.
At the root of these desires is a deeper question: Will my life leave a lasting imprint, or will it vanish into obscurity?
As mathematician G. F. Hardy observed:
"Ambition is a noble passion which may legitimately take many forms... but the noblest ambition is that of leaving behind something of permanent value."
Permanence may well be the most noble compass for human ambition. We instinctively rebel against the idea of insignificance. Even those who claim to believe in a meaningless world live as though permanence is within reach. We carve monuments into stone, tell stories across generations, and nurture relationships, all hoping that they will outlast us. This instinct points to something real: a hidden truth that our lives are intertwined with eternity. The human story is far more enduring and significant than we often dare to imagine.
But we shudder at the conscious thought of eternal consequence. It feels too vast, too weighty, almost self-indulgent to consider. Yet, it quietly underpins much of what drives us. Whether we admit it or not, we are people desperate for significance, for the assurance that what we do today will ripple into tomorrow. This longing is not a frivolous desire; it is an inextricable component of our being.
Me vs. Others
Every human being carries eternal significance, yet the biggest undoing of our generation is our failure to recognize it. We are a naked generation, desperate for something greater to clothe us—we ache for glory, even if we cannot name it. We yearn for meaning in achievements and accolades, yet our deepest hunger remains unsatisfied.
It is in relationships that the concept of eternal consequence becomes most tangible. We often think of glory in individualistic terms—personal achievements, accolades. But as C.S. Lewis reminds us:
"There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal."
When we begin to see others as eternal beings, every interaction shifts in weight and takes on more profound significance. The way we mentor a colleague, encourage a friend, or resolve conflict is no longer a trivial act but something that ripples into eternity. Imagine leading a team with this perspective—your leadership transcends efficiency and becomes a calling to nurture legacy, not just success. And in that, we find a glory far greater than anything we could ever achieve alone.
This shift from the transactional to the relational forces us to rethink the purpose of our influence. Our aspirations shift from merely amassing a “following” to understanding our cosmic role in kindling the eternal flames in the lives of those who follow us. We understand that we have a responsibility to steward the eternal value in others.
This is what gives human connections their weight. And when we operate with this mindset, we engage with the world not as consumers of fleeting experiences, but as contributors to a story that transcends time.
Faith is the Compass for Eternal Purpose
If every interaction has eternal stakes, then every choice matters more than we realize. It is both liberating and terrifying. It liberates us from the trivialities of daily validation but confronts us with the unsettling truth of how lightly we treat things that may carry eternal ramifications. To live this way is to prioritize faith over unbelief and nihilism.
Faith carries an undeserved stigma in modern discourse. It’s often seen as naïve, a distraction from hard-nosed realism. Some people think that faith is a cowardly and immature defense against death anxiety. But those who see it that way falsely think that death is the worst thing that can happen to a man -- that's just where the worst gets started. A person driven by eternal significance doesn’t crumble under short-term failures.
Faith recalibrates our perspective, allowing us to endure, innovate, and build with patience. Ambition, in its truest form, isn’t about accumulation but transformation. Success isn’t about winning; it’s about becoming fully alive to our purpose. When we stop chasing shadows—status, recognition, superficial glory—we free ourselves to pursue what really matters. And maybe, just maybe, that’s where true greatness lies: not in what we achieve, but in who we become through the pursuit.
Our lives carry more weight than we imagine. Every decision, project, and interaction contributes to a larger divine story. And if we take that seriously, everything changes. The bar for success rises—not just in the material sense, but in the moral, relational, and spiritual sense.
The absence of faith creates a spiritual vacuum that nothing finite can fill. Only the quest for the eternal can.
We must change the occupation of our daily desires and conversations.
Mindless bickering is a luxury we can no longer afford.