Strong Shoulders, Short Shadows
I was grabbing coffee with a mentor recently. He’s getting older, and his perspective on legacy is shifting. He told me his new goal in life is to have “strong shoulders and a short shadow.”
That’s a hell of a statement.
All my life, I’ve heard the cliché about “standing on the shoulders of giants.” It’s the cozy idea that we’re all just building on the sturdy foundations of those who came before us.
I call bullshit.
Don't get me wrong—it’s a nice sentiment. But in reality, not every set of shoulders is sturdy; some are brittle, and others are braced for impact. In our current state of existing, everyone seems obsessed with casting the longest shadow possible. We want to be seen, to be remembered, and to loom over the future like a monument.
I like the idea of being a strong set of shoulders, but what does that look like in practice?
Like Liam Neeson, I have a "particular set of skills." But let's be honest: this old dog is slow with new tricks. We spend our lives building those skills and growing our presence, only to realize we've created a blockage. We’re told from childhood that we can be anything, then left in the void to figure out what that actually means.
The problem is, the next generation can't navigate that void if they can’t see the landscape. And they definitely can't see the landscape if your fat frame is eating all the light.
Maybe that’s the real work of the "elder statesman": becoming a human step-stool. It’s not glamorous, and your back will probably hurt, but it’s better than being the guy whose ego is a permanent solar eclipse.
I’m still working on shrinking the shadow. It turns out that when you’ve spent a lifetime trying to be the "Giant," it’s hard to settle for just being the "Shoulders." But I’d rather be a sturdy base for someone else’s view than a fat frame standing in the dark, wondering why nobody is clapping.
Besides, if I finally get out of the light, maybe I can see where I put my coffee.
Word Count: ~415 words
Approximate Read Time: 1 minute and 45 seconds