Legacy of Dust and Blessings

What is Your Legacy–Ethical Wills.

As I sift through my attic, engaged in what the Swedish romantically call döstädning (death cleaning, but let’s not be dramatic), I reflect on the legacies I could leave behind. Society obsesses over inheritance, assuming our value is measured by the material baggage we pass down. But as someone who has spent years guiding others through hypnotherapy and transpersonal regression, I see things differently. Perhaps the best legacy is not a pile of possessions but the gift of freedom—freedom from financial debt, from generational burdens, and from the weight of expectations never met.

The obsession with legacy is exhausting. Somewhere along the way, humans decided that merely existing wasn’t enough—we had to build empires, carve our names into marble, and leave behind something ‘grand’ for the world to admire. As if future generations are eagerly waiting to bask in the glow of our achievements rather than rolling their eyes while sorting through yet another set of bone china no one actually wants to use. What is this compulsive need to be remembered? Fear of insignificance? A desperate attempt to cheat death? Or just sheer arrogance wrapped in the illusion of duty?

So, what could I leave behind? A debt-free inheritance? That would be nice, but let’s be honest—most people inherit more emotional baggage than bank accounts. Maybe I could pass on wisdom, distilled from years of navigating the subconscious minds of others. But then, wisdom often comes with the unwanted side effect of unsolicited advice, and who wants that?

No, I believe the greatest legacy is nothing at all—a clean slate. No debts to pay off, no unnecessary heirlooms, no suffocating family traditions demanding allegiance. Imagine the sheer joy of receiving an inheritance where the only thing left behind is peace. No ancestral trauma, no mismatched Tupperware, no ‘someday useful’ clutter. Just a life unshackled.

Take inheritance, for example. Ah, the glorious tradition of passing down an assortment of outdated furniture, jewelry no one likes, and land that sparks a family war. What a beautiful way to ensure future generations spend their best years in court. If we were truly considerate, we’d leave behind only blessings and well-organized financial records. No one needs to inherit a collection of ceramic frogs or a kitchen cabinet stuffed with Tupperware lids that fit nothing.

And let’s not forget emotional legacies. Some people bequeath generational trauma like it’s an heirloom—”Here, take this crippling anxiety; it has been in our family for generations!” Others pass down expectations so heavy they could double as dumbbells. Maybe the true act of love is not forcing our offspring to fulfill the dreams we couldn’t.

So, as I continue purging my attic, I make a vow. My legacy shall be this: a home free of clutter, a family free of obligation, and a future free of inherited nonsense. I’ll leave behind warm memories, laughter, and a detailed list of all my streaming passwords (because that’s the true treasure trove).

Everything else? Straight to charity.

Let them fight over someone else’s ceramic frogs.

This post was written for the #BlogchatterBloghop collective writing by Blogchatter.