I have returned from a week of springtime ocean waves and beach in Destin, Florida. I am sunburn (tourist), jet-lagged (19 hours of driving one way), and sweetened out (Buc-ee’s Beaver Nuggets). I also had a marvelous time with my hubby, son, grandkids, and assorted other family members.
One of the things I’ve always wanted to do was walk the beach somewhere. Florida supplied that magical moment, although, being a little stiff these days, I was also content to sit on my balcony and watch the crashing waves with a cup of coffee and a blanket.
Which got me thinking … was this a Bucket List moment?
I don’t have a Bucket List per se. There’s so many things I’d love to do the rest of my life that my bucket list would be more than 20 pages long.
Bucket lists are made of those things one wants to do before they die. I’ve known people who have put parasailing alongside kissing the Blarney Stone as Bucket List must-haves. Other lists include seeing the Southern Cross, eating macaroons in France and spotting a whale in the ocean.
All admirable goals.
There is something so final about completing one’s Bucket List, though, that makes me not want to make one.
I’ve never had one single overwhelming desire to do much of anything during my 70-odd years of living here on Earth. I have experiences in my past that I remember to this day that, looking back, could be counted on a Bucket List. I sat at the same table at Le Recrutement CafĂ© in Paris that I once saw in a photograph; I saw the King Tut mask when it visited the Art Institute in Chicago in 1977; I was at the Beatles in concert at Comiskey Park in Chicago in August of 1965.
These memories weren’t on any list — they were just opportunities that came my way through the years.
Yet standing on the beach watching sunset over the ocean was no doubt something I wanted to experience before I left this world. That moment of beauty, of cosmic connection, was something to experience. It was a different connection than watching moonrise over the fields or sitting on a tree stump in the middle of the woods, both of which I’ve done too.
My take on the whole Bucket List thing is that one needs to think about what experiences are actually possible and which will never happen. Honesty can be a downer, but I also believe in the lemons-to-lemonade theory.
You can cross things off of your Bucket List every day.
Can’t make it to the upcoming Van Gogh: The Roulin Family Portraits at the Museum of Fine Arts Boston? Attend a local art gallery’s exhibitions. Can’t fly to the Metropolitan Opera House to hear Rossini’s Il Barbiere di Siviglia? Listen to the Met’s Saturday Matinee Broadcasts on public radio. Can’t experience sunset on the Hawaiian shore? Find a quiet spot and watch the sun set over your own town or city.
I’m not downplaying Bucket Lists. I may start one just to narrow down what I’d like to see and do before I check out the big Taj Mahal in the sky.
Until then, I’m setting achievable Bucket List goals.
Don’t make a bucket list of things you’ll never do. Don’t wait to experience awe, inspiration, peace or nirvana. Make your own version of a Bucket List , and start to experience life NOW.
Do you have a Bucket List? What’s on your list?