The wind battered the tent for the second night.  Or maybe it was the third night. Trapped at 11,000 feet in a horrid storm.  The wind blowing – not gusting but blowing – a constant 70 mph.  We’d cut countless snow blocks to protect the tents from imploding.  I lay in my bag sleepless as the tent bent and snapped against the wind and thought, “What’s the point?”

It wasn’t the first time that this thought had occurred to me. On the carry to 10,500 feet, I’d flamed out under the weight of a 70 lb load, sure that I was too old, too fat, too out of shape, too “something” to be doing this stupid project. I never uttered the words out loud, but I sure wondered what the point was.

Ann later confided that she too had struggled in her own private hell – more than once – asking the same question.  Is there a point to all this?

It is, of course, a question many of us ask ourselves from time to time.  I do, like when I’m arguing with a recalcitrant teenager or endeavoring to understand why a client has made the same bad choice for the third time.  Should we be concerned that there be a “point? ”  Should we only engage in activities that have a “point?”   Is a well lived life one that has a “point?”

Should our objective be to leave some “legacy?”

Our 43rd President, George W. Bush, was utterly consumed by the concept of legacy. In the fascinating fictionalized biography of Laura Bush called  American Wife by Curtis Sittenfeld, the character who becomes president is single-mindedly driven by the notion of how his political decisions will impact his legacy.  Most of us have an opinion as to how that turned out for the real character.

I was thinking today about Alison Hargreaves.  She was the Brit who wanted to be the first person to climb the three highest peaks in the world solo without supplemental oxygen. She died on K2 leaving a husband and two small children. Many asked, what was the point.  What, in fact, is her legacy?

Ann has a friend who wants his legacy to be that he has read all of Western literature before he dies. That seems rather narcissistic to me.  But is it any more so that wanting to climb the Seven Summits as I do?

Most everyone has an opinion on the politics of Ted Kennedy, who died this past week.  It would be difficult though for anyone to argue that he failed to leave a legacy. He was part of the national discourse for more than 40 years and authored more than 1000 pieces of legislation. Many would say that he left something of importance behind.

Leaving something of importance is what motivates many writers and artists. Photographers too! (I even suspect it may be a motivating factor for parents, although it is so easy to lose sight of that!) We want to create something meaningful. Something tangible.  Something that stands the test of time.

And what is that?  What is the proof of a life well lived?  What is legacy?

I am reminded of the poem that some attribute to Stevenson, others to Emerson or Stanley:

She has achieved success
who has lived well,
laughed often, and loved much;
who has enjoyed the trust of pure women,
the respect of intelligent men
and the love of little children;
who has filled her niche and accomplished her task;
who has left the world better than she found it
whether by an improved poppy,
a perfect poem, or a rescued soul;
who has never lacked appreciation of Earth’s beauty
or failed to express it;
who has always looked for the best in others
and given them the best she had;
whose life was an inspiration;
whose memory a benediction.

Much of life is like hauling a 70 lb load up a steep hill. To climb, to adventure, to journey on the edge is to live deeply into the richness of life. But, finding the “point” is up to us. We create meaning and legacy out of the ordinary fabric of our lives, with vision, boldness and determined action, especially when the load is heavy. What do you think?