A wall in our building has one of these chalkboard social art installations. You've probably seen photos of other similar ones. They can be found on building sides around the world. The idea is anyone can contribute their big thought; what they want to do before they die.
I've watched this collection grow over the year we've been in the Stutz. I haven't personally added to, because it seems ridiculous to me to try to pick just one and if I had to, how do I even start to pick the one? No. It's the same issue I have with lots of decisions, actually. Anyway, I walked by it for the first time in a while the other day and it struck me, how much it had grown. In a way, I related to it a lot more.
I thought to myself That's what mine would look like.
Mine would be whole entire board of options, with no room left. And the messiness would drive me a little nuts, so I would notate a cleaning reminder.
And whoever added the "t" to the end of the "die" in "things to do before you die" was kinda talking to right to me. (Personal answer = always almond croissant.)
While my mind wandered on the topic of those bucket lists I started to think about how mine haschanged over the years. Visit every country in the world at some point became replaced by the more modest Visit all of Europe, the remaining states that I haven't seen and the lower parts of South America.
I had to make room for all the things I wasn't willing to take off the list. Adopt, write books, tell important stories.
I scratched off things like Go skydiving entirely, because really, what was I thinking? It seemed like the kind of thing you'd put on a bucket list, but frankly, at this point I have zero desire to fling myself out of an airplane and gamble on a the contents of my backpack. That seems semi-suicidal to me. I guess I'm sort of a thrill seeker, but I just don't find any thrill in that kind of activity. My thrills come from people, travel, events, books, and putting creative things out into the world. Talk about scary.
And as I got older I added some new things that didn't matter as much when I made my first drafts as a little kid.
Have a giant, life giving garden. Maybe some chickens and some goats. Make a deeply nourishing home. Barn.
Then there's still those things in the grey in-between. The secret wishes that I'm not sure I'll actually get to, but I'm still attached to, so I can't quite put that line through them; that straight sword to the heart of the dreams they were.
Go to culinary school. Write and photo for travel and lifestyle magazines. Learn another language.
It's a big list. These things don't even scratch the surface. When my husband and I have lift list conversations, sometimes Aaron is sad, when he thinks of the things that used to be on the list and aren't anymore. But not me.
Because I think what's happening is exactly what's supposed to happen. Time makes a singularity of us all, if we do it well. When life starts, all possibility is ahead of us. But as time goes on, it strips away all the things that don't matter to our individual and unique span here and what we're left with, if we're paying any attention at all, is what really matters. The sooner we can mark things off the list, the sooner we can get to the business of putting our time to what does. The longer we'll hopefully have for that.
So I consider it hopeful, the way the list has changed over the years.
Those are my #saturdaythoughts