Life Without a Bucket List
I can confidently say that I don’t live with a long list of things I want to do, see or complete before I’m done in this place. I carried a dream for years of having a farm. I could picture it, the life of routine created by the land and its rhythms. But beyond that I’ve never longed for having a list and checking things off. I’m happy with my old cars, my simple wardrobe, my lack of fancy things and vacations. Don’t get me wrong, I do love a good concert, but I also love an organic dance party in my kitchen. I love great food, but I also love a hot dog over the fire pit in my backyard. I love a hike in the mountains, but I also love a walk around the block with my people. Last week, when I heard I may have another long road to travel on this journey, I turned to Jason and cried. I told him how day after day this place is losing its grip on me. Driving down the street this place sometimes feels so depraved, so wanting my money without a care for my heart. Billboards blare at me about what to buy, what to think, how to vote. But the tie that binds me here is relationships.
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