At this time of year most of us look back and think about the past.

And maybe it’s because that backward glance doesn’t exactly fill us with pride, glory or immense achievement that we swiftly turn to look forward instead. It seems we do this every year. Truth is – most of us get through our lives just getting by and doing fairly average things that are remarkably similar to what everyone does.

Yes, there are some remarkable exceptions. Those individuals who stand out from the crowd. These are the type of people who merit a sizeable obituary in the columns of The Herald of record and recognition.

They may be people who have achieved remarkable success in the field of science or literature or music. Perhaps a captain of industry or a great adventurer. A political heavyweight or sporting supremo.

They all qualify.

Your average Joe who left school, got a job, became fairly good at football or golf, helped raise and provide for a family, and was regarded by his mates as a good all-round bloke wouldn’t make for much of an editorial epitaph.

The best most of us can hope for are a few words spoken from the heart as a eulogy at a gathering attended by a few dozen of the people we were closest to in life.

That’s one view of an average life well-lived. But it’s not mine. Much has been said about how mentoring schemes are lauded for successfully inspiring others to achieve academic, professional, and personal developments and outcomes.

They are, indeed, rich in examples of creating a truly worthwhile legacy.

The people approached to become mentors, however, are usually those recognised as the “high achievers” and not the average man or woman. But just take a step back for a moment to consider the everyday things that so many football or club coaches achieve, of the Scout and Guide leaders, or perhaps those who work with disadvantaged young adults.

And then consider what parents and aunts and uncles achieve by understanding, supporting and influencing the young ones in our lives.

On Christmas Day my new grandson was born. Noah Alastair McLaws, weighing in at 8lbs 4oz and with a full head of dark hair, arrived at 3.39pm and lifted the spirits of an entire family.

I can see a lot of me in my children and a lot of them in my grandchildren. I’ve even been lucky enough to influence step-grandkids for more than a decade. These are the legacies we can all leave behind and why everybody can earn a glowing editorial obituary – even if it doesn’t grace the pages of a newspaper.

We can write our own – by living it.

Ally McLaws is managing director of the McLaws Consultancy, specialist in business marketing and reputation management. View all columns at www.mclawsconsultancy.com