I’ve always been a big “Bucket
Lister.” Recently, however, I realize
that my bucket list is way out of date.
I have been so busy juggling what is on my plate that I have neglected
to dream on for the future. Many items
that had previously been key motivators for me (return to piano and give a
public performance, take my daughter to Greece, become a writer, perform Chopin’s
b-minor Sonata) have found their way off the list and into my life’s story. There are two things you can do when this
happens. You can live with the knowledge
that your bucket list is exhausted (and the psychological consequences
thereof), or you can add more things to the list.
I choose the latter. There is no point in dwelling on the
possibility that the best years are behind.
It is simply time to fill up the life ahead with more dreams and
goals. I choose to interpret the fact
that I have achieved so many of my goals as a life well-lived (rather than as a
life mostly spent). This latter phase of
my life reflects an adjustment in my circumstances. For example, I no longer live to see my
children installed in the colleges of their choosing. Instead, I hope to see them accomplished in
their professional goals, situated in loving, lasting relationships, and
developing an independence and fulfillment of their own. I also hope to live to hold my grandchildren—and
while that seems to imply some urgency, I am really in no hurry given my
children’s current stages in life.
It is probably no surprise to
anyone who knows me that most of my dreams and wishes involve my children. But a bucket list should be personal and
selfish—otherwise, what is the point? So
given the proximity to New Year’s Day, (and we all know what happened when I
made resolutions LAST New Year,) I have decided to renovate my Bucket
List. And a word to my husband: you are welcome to join me on any or all of
these journeys.
1) I want to visit Alaska. For some reason, Alaska is always on our
vacation short list but never becomes a planned destination. My husband is from the Pacific Northwest, so
perhaps Alaska is not as exotic a destination for him as it is for me. I love mountains and glaciers. I love taking real “discover America” trips. I want to see bears and caribou and the
Aurora Borealis. I love eating salmon
and halibut. I prefer cold destinations
with snow to beaches and tropical climes.
I want to visit Alaska while I still have the stamina (and the joints)
to enjoy it.
2) I want to prepare and perform an all-Chopin
recital. Chopin is a pianist’s composer,
but many of his pieces are over-done and even shunned by audiences. Still, there is much richness in the
lesser-played pieces of his vast collection of compositions. For me, playing Chopin is story-telling. His pieces capture the fragility of his
failing health, the vulnerability of his circumstances as an expatriate, and
the reflection of the larger-than-life characters that inhabited his life
(Georges Sand and Franz Liszt among them).
To do them justice requires great physical strength and broad emotional
availability. It is hard live in that
space (for the time it takes to accomplish the task) without being profoundly
altered by it.
3) I
want to renovate a loft space as a general contractor. My husband and I have always lived in old
homes, so I have come to enjoy tearing down walls and renovating them room by
room. We are reaching the point where
our home is too large and impractical for our current circumstances. We have been talking about going sleek and
urban. I would love to find some
up-and-coming industrial space that I can design for our specific needs
(gourmet kitchen, recital parlor, library, master retreat—and I suppose some
space for when the kids visit). I derive
particular joy from sourcing fixtures, knobs, and reclaimed materials while
parlaying the savings into top quality kitchen appliances.
4) I
want to see The Last Supper, Leonardo daVinci’s masterpiece in tempera and
gesso, before it fades from the walls of the humble convent of Santa Maria
della Grazie in Milan.
5) I
want to complete the novel that I sketched out three years ago. It now has a different form than I originally
planned—the result of a year spent writing daily. I would like to find the time and the focus
to embark on such a large-scale project.
6) I
want to go to art school. I have studied
lots of things in my life, but my first love was always art. Long before I became accomplished at music, I
wanted to be an artist. Today, I tinker
with lots of crafts, loving to make things “with my hands.” If I have one regret, it is that I never took
art lessons. I have always felt that I
possess the soul of an artist, but I have always been lacking the essential
skills. I would love to experience the
discipline of drawing classes, honing my eye, my sense of form, and the
conviction of my (shaky) line.
7) I
want to start some sort of a company that harnesses the creative power of my
closest friends—brilliant 50-something women with a wide variety of backgrounds,
interests, and experiences. Together, we
have the bench strength of any Fortune 100 company. We ought to be able to combine the best of us
into something that will bring value to some segment of the world.
There is more where this list
comes from, but it is a start. This
ought to keep me busy for at least another twenty years.
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