I Think We're All a Lot More Replaceable Than We Want to Admit

A coworker of mine retired after 32 years with the company.

There was a cake in the break room, a short speech, a signed card, and a few hugs.

The following Monday, someone else was sitting at his desk.

By the end of the month, people had mostly stopped mentioning him.

It wasn't cruel.

It was just... life.

That got me thinking about how often we tell ourselves we're indispensable.

At work.

In social circles.

Even in our routines.

But the world has a way of quietly filling empty spaces.

At first, I found that thought depressing.

Then, oddly enough, it became comforting.

If I'm replaceable at work, maybe I don't need to sacrifice every evening for my job.

If life goes on without me answering every email immediately, maybe I can stop treating every minor problem like an emergency.

Maybe being replaceable isn't a tragedy.

Maybe it's permission to stop carrying everything on my shoulders.

The people who truly matter won't remember me because I answered emails at 10 p.m.

They'll remember whether I showed up for birthdays.

Whether I listened.

Whether I was kind.

For some reason, realizing that I won't be remembered for my productivity has made me want to spend a lot less time proving how productive I am.