Being of a certain age I am noticing a lot of attention to Bucket Lists. These are the "Before I Die" lists of places and experiences we want to see or have before we kick the bucket. We can only joke about this, of course, because it makes us nervous to think about our own death. Bucket Lists are a problem for me. It's not that I am prepared to give up my aspirations about seeing South Africa. But the whole idea of another Big To-Do List before I die makes me tired. It feels too driven. I have the sense that I need to slice this some other way.
For one thing, it feels like a contest. I tend to shy away from contests. If it is a contest, I am happy for you to win. Go right ahead. Jump out of airplanes or bungee jump into a deep gorge. Through-hike the AT surviving on nuts and berries. Check off Macchu Picchu. Learn to tango. You win.
Most Bucket Lists I have heard about involve going and doing. Lots of planning ahead, creating memories to look back on. Not much about being. Now. Present. Aware of myself in this moment, in this place, in my life. They feel more like the going/doing evidenced in piles of slides I took maybe 30 years ago. Going through them, I was disappointed to find pictures of scenery I could no longer identify with precision. So I culled looking for photos of people I cared about. My daughter at age 8 dressed in a kelly green Izod skirt suit, ready to board a plane with me for our first big international adventure. The other slides--endless ancient temples, big buildings, bucolic countryside views, vineyards in the Mosel Valley--mostly hit the round file. I thought about all the effort, not to mention expense, that had gone into taking and storing and moving those slides for all those years. I felt grateful that at some point around the year 2000 I gave up scrapbooking my life and travels. I love the photos that show my daughter growing up, but I don't need them to remember her proud face after she successfully bargained for a peacock fan in Agra.
About a year ago when I was contemplating retirement (aka The End of Paid Work) I threw myself on the mercy of a way-too-young psychologist to sort this stuff out. Should I have a Bucket List? How was I going to spend the rest of my life? I had no shortage of ideas. But I was going in circles and my anxiety was growing. After two sessions she said, "Rilla, you have a lot of words (Bingo! Young, but not stupid.) I would like to see pictures. Bring me pictures of what you hope for, not in the rest of your life, but maybe for the next couple of years."
What a great assignment for me. Get me out of my head, away from words. I went after it with gusto. I put away the item that said "Take a textile tour of India with my sister." I found pictures of women together, mothers and daughters, sweethearts, beaches, baskets, cloth, lush vegetation, people crossing a finish line, a kayaker on a quiet lake, yarn. I found a whole lot of pictures. Suddenly my perspective seemed more fluid, more horizontal. The possibility of mixing and matching became apparent. Within months, I went to Armenia with my sister for ten weeks. Not India, not textiles, not beaches, but extended time with my oldest friend discovering a new place, thrilling to fine music, making new friends. "Go to Armenia with my sister" would never have been on a checklist.
Rather than checking off Victoria Falls, I am looking for a chance to be with my sweet Peter in a place where we can hike, enjoy the arts, maybe even participate in the arts (Lord knows, I love a craft and indigenous art seems the fastest track to that in the world). Where we are not up to speed on the language and need to figure things out on the fly. Where we might even have a chance to speak something other than English, however haltingly. Where we can simply be for awhile. Slightly but tolerably edgy. Just outside our comfort zones. A chance to stretch, to get more acquainted with ourselves.
I feel more comfortable with this approach. I am not in a contest or a race. There are no must-dos or best/right answers for all time. Just embrace life. Live wholeheartedly. Every day. Wherever I am. If I learn to speak Spanish, so much the better.
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