On Hero's Welcomes, or Not.

When we set out to make a difference, what is it that we are really aiming for?

Says the song from the animated movie, "Hercules":
"I have often dreamed of a far off place, where a hero's welcome will be waiting for me."

I must admit that for decades (even before the song was written and released), this thought was among the driving forces in my professional life. Half-knowingly and half-instinctively, in every job I had--every project, every responsibility that was assigned to me--I jumped in head-first. I strove not just to get the job done, but to do it in a way that makes a positive difference. In part, it was because of a self-imposed duty to live up to my name--to make a mark. But in a larger part than I had cared to admit, it was also because I imagined being applauded for my accomplishments. More than a few times, I pictured myself, years into the future, receiving a hero's tribute for some valuable contribution that I had made to some greater good.

Twenty-five years into my professional life, I realize now that maybe the point of making a mark is the mark itself. A tribute party would be a nice opportunity for taking pictures that you can look at every now and then, when you are past your prime, to remind you that once upon a time you did something notable. But really, if you need such pictures to remind you of what you've accomplished, then you're probably not giving yourself enough credit.

The truth is people have very short memories. Years, even decades after the fact, your accomplishments may live on and continue to have an impact on your industry, your community, your company, or your colleagues. But your name will fade sooner than you can write a journal entry about your latest achievement. Pretty soon, people will refer to your contributions with the phrase, "it's always been there." Ironically, that's probably when you know you've actually done something worthwhile.

So, I guess, the better thing to do is find fulfillment in having your impact outlive your name. On many of my pep talks with my teams in the past, one of the things I found myself saying almost too many times was:

"Sooner or later, you will all reach the peak of your professional success. I will probably not be around when that happens. But when it does, I will be happy knowing that somehow, I had something to do with it."