And When I Die… - Part 2
I refuse to see The Bucket List for fear it may reignite my need to make my own bucket list.
By the time one of my roommates finally came and unlocked the door, I had already convinced myself that I was walking a dangerous precipice — dancing on the edge of a wasted life. If I wanted to make the most out of the short time I had on Earth, I needed to get organized. That afternoon I began work on my own list of things to do before I die. Totally missing the point of the book, instead of taking the sample lists as suggestions; I added every experience listed in the book onto my own list.
Visit an active volcano? Of course I needed to do that! Go on a pilgrimage? What list would be complete without?
In the end, I came up with a five-page plagiarized list of activities I needed to do before I died. The items ranged from the simple (tell my parents I love them — checked that off with a five minute phone call) to the slightly more difficult (appear on a light-night television talk show) to the really weird (make a doll that looks like myself).
The book’s suggested experiences came from all over the place. As I read over the list, instead of determination, I was swept up in a wave of despair. How was I possibly going to find the time — let alone the money — to visit all of the places that I needed to in order to make my life complete?
Being the foolhardy guy I am, I fought through my insecurities and the voice of reason that nagged at the back of my head and I dived headfirst into the list. One of the items was to buy a boat. Being a college student on a fixed income, I did not see myself owning a yacht any time soon. Seeking a compromise, I ventured into Toys ‘R’ Us and bought an RC motor boat.
I took it out to the local park and puttered around a lake for about half an hour before I got bored. In the end, I took the boat out again a total of two times before selling it on Craigslist. It didn’t matter if I wasted $50 though — I was living life to the fullest. During the time I kept my list, I did accomplish a lot of worthy tasks.
I performed stand-up comedy in front of a room full of strangers. I stayed up for 24 hours straight. I finally watched all three Godfather movies. In the end, though, I did what I do with most S.P.Ds (Sudden Purposeful Drives) — I lost interest. After a few months, I stopped forcing myself to cross an item off the list every week. Eventually, I stopped looking at the list all together. About a year after I found myself locked out of the apartment and first came across 2 Do Before I Die, I deleted the Excel spreadsheet that contained the list of things to do before I died.
It’s not that I’ve resumed the carefree theory of perpetual immortality that I seemed to have possessed well into my young adulthood — if anything, I’m even more aware of the fact that Death has me on speed dial. Instead, I came to the conclusion that a life spent planning is a life unlived. I still have a list of things I want to do before I die. Instead of cataloging and chronicling that list in alphabetical order, though, I keep it in my head — remembering and forgetting goals every day.
While I’ve come to accept the fact that I won’t be able to do everything I want to in my life, I’m going to try my best to do as much of it as possible. I’m going to see as many places, swim with as many dolphins and live as much as I can.
The time I spent obsessing over my list was the only time I truly wasted my life. Instead of typing up five pages of goals, I could have been making a doll that looked like me.
I’ve visited an active volcano. It’s not something to do before you die, but something to do AS you die.
Great column Rob!
Oh and don’t worry, people have wasted their lives doing stupider things so don’t worry too much about it :)