This is my contribution to humanity, find yours!
Find yours, not by waiting for the perfect opportunity, but by giving what only you can provide, right now.
A few years ago, I met a woman at a conference who introduced herself, not by her job title, but by saying: “I run a soup kitchen on Thursdays.”
She said it so simply, so matter-of-fact, that I almost missed the significance.
Later, over coffee, she told me that she had worked for decades in an ordinary office job but that the soup kitchen was what people remembered her for. “I don’t feed hundreds,” she shrugged. “Maybe twenty or thirty on a good day. But it feels like something that matters.”
That conversation has stayed with me because it revealed how contribution doesn’t have to look like a TED talk or a viral campaign. Sometimes it’s as unassuming as serving soup on a Thursday.
I grew up thinking that “contribution to humanity” meant something dramatic, such as writing a world-changing book, launching a global charity, or inventing a cure.
Anything smaller felt inadequate. It took years to realise that contribution is not about size but about sincerity. A single stitch is small, but when stitched together with others, it becomes a quilt.
We often live by this formula: If I make a significant contribution, then my life will matter.
But this logic is deceptive. Most of us will never be household names. Our lives will not be written about in textbooks. And yet, the world is carried forward by countless invisible acts of care and creativity.
Your teacher in primary school may never be famous, but she contributed to who you are. The nurse who stayed late to comfort your grandmother may never receive an award, but she made a difference.
In Man’s Search for Meaning, Viktor Frankl argued that meaning arises not from circumstances but from responsibility: our ability to respond to life with integrity.
“Life is never made unbearable by circumstances,” he wrote, “but only by lack of meaning and purpose.” Meaning doesn’t wait for a spotlight; it waits for a decision.
A parable of the mason
I once heard a story about two masons working on a cathedral. A passer-by asked the first what he was doing. “Laying bricks,” he grumbled. The same question was put to the second mason. He smiled and said, “I’m building a cathedral.”
Both were stacking stones. But one saw only the task in front of him, while the other saw his contribution to something greater. Perspective transformed labour into meaning.
How many of us dismiss our own work because we only see the bricks, not the cathedral?
Small acts, deep ripples
Last year, I spoke to a friend who had gone through depression. When I asked what had helped, she didn’t mention therapy techniques or motivational speeches.
She said, “It was when you texted me every week to check in.” I had almost forgotten about those texts. But to her, they had been lifelines.
It reminded me of the Dalai Lama’s line: “If you think you are too small to make a difference, try sleeping with a mosquito.”
Contribution is rarely about grandeur. It is about presence, persistence, and care.
So here’s my new formula: If I offer my unique contribution, however small, my life already matters.
Your contribution might be writing, mentoring, making art, cooking meals, raising children, or repairing bicycles. It doesn’t need to be universal. It only needs to be yours.
Of course, contribution comes with doubt.
I have often asked myself: Who am I to write these essays? Who will even care?
But then I remember the tailor in my hometown who sewed school uniforms. He never went viral, but his work carried children into futures they might not have had otherwise. That was his contribution.
Legacy isn’t measured in applause. It’s measured in what people carry forward because of you.
So here I am, adding another stitch to the quilt. These words may not reach millions. They may not change history. But they are my contribution. And one day, someone will find a line here that steadies them for an hour, a day, a season. That would be enough.
This is my contribution to humanity. Find yours, not by waiting for the perfect opportunity, but by giving what only you can provide, right now.
PS: I am creating a lot of videos on youtube, check them out!
Thank you for reading. Your time and attention mean everything. This essay is free, but you can always buy me coffee or visit my shop to support my work. For more thoughts and short notes, please find me on Instagram.