Building Upon the Shoulders of Other People’s Sand Castles
One of the hardest parts of legacy building is sharing the vision and purpose and need behind what matters so much to us today in such a way that others will feel inspired and excited to pick up the flag and carry on. And in most cases, to do this effectively, we have to detach ourselves enough so that the next generation of sand castle builders can make theirs their own.
I look back on a sand castle building experience with particular joy not so much because the sand castle was particularly well made, but because of what happened the next morning.
My sister and I set out to build a particularly sturdy sand castle on the Oregon Coast. It was one of those somewhat rare warm and sunny days on the Northwest coast and so my sister and I prepared for quite the extensive operation. I would be the first to admit that I am no engineer. I’m not particularly mechanically inclined and I was glad to move beyond the two required math classes in college. But it seemed to me that one possible way of protecting the structure of the sand castle against the changing tides would be to dig out a very deep and fairly wide mote. My thinking was that when the waves rose with the night high tides, they would slip into the mote and leave the structure of the castle itself intact.
Of course there are many other variables like how strong the foundation of the structure is and how quickly the waves rush up against the mote, but we did our best. In the end we had a mote that was almost as deep as I am tall. We included a few decorative flourishes to the castle itself, but with all the time and attention we gave to the mote, we didn’t have a lot of extra attention to give to the castle. By the end of our efforts, we were both very pleased with ourselves, excited to see if anything was left the next morning, though I think we both expected there to be no evidence at all of our efforts the next day.
To our delight, when we visited the beach the next morning, the castle was still standing and in fact, about half of the mote was still there too. We congratulated ourselves on building something that could withstand those sometimes rough tides, but we really didn’t have any interest in building the castle back to yesterday’s glory. We spend some time flying a kite and reading in the sun.
Then I spotted a mother and her daughter who appeared to be maybe three or four walking along the beach picking up sea shells as they went. The little girl seemed very focused on gathering the shells and collecting them into her shirt tails being used as a makeshift basket. But then she spotted the sandcastle.
She ran the best she could while keeping close tabs on her shells to the sand castle. I still remember her delight laugh when she saw it. I wondered what she would do next. Would she destroy it? There’s something very satisfying in totally demolishing sandcastles so I wouldn’t have blamed her if the thought crossed her mind. But no, what she did next has been a lesson for me ever since. She crouched down and carefully placed several of her shells into the moist sand of the castle. She thoughtfully chose which shell would fit best on the turrets and used a stick to dig out some of the mote. The pair worked on beautifying the castle for about a half hour—an amazing amount of time for a child that young to stay focused and to dedicate such careful work.
When the mother and daughter left the castle, it was transformed into an ornate and repaired work of art. Something that my sister and I had built and left had taken a life of its own completely independent of our efforts or supervision. I doubt that the little girl will remember that particular experience. Maybe her mother will though. When I think about the perhaps little portion of added enjoyment that those two might have experienced because my sister and I built something before for they to add and enhance, I still get excited.
What kinds of legacies are we leaving? So often I find myself clinging to my own self-importance, as if that sand castle could only continue to exist with me to watch over it. One of the hardest parts of legacy building is sharing the vision and purpose and need behind what matters so much to us today in such a way that others will feel inspired and excited to pick up the flag and carry on. And in most cases, to do this effectively, we have to detach ourselves enough so that the next generation of sand castle builders can make theirs their own.
