As a human being, I have an idea of how I want to be perceived and in what way I want to create this image of myself. However, if I am only working for momentary perception, the few compliments I receive will only take me as far as the air takes to travel from another's lips to my ears. I do not want to look in the mirror and see a young adult who reaches for the stars just to add another to her belt. I want more. I want the world to shake me, I am not quite as interested in if I leave a mark wherever I travel. That is the least of my worries. For I am not the first to set foot upon land, and will not be the last. I may not understand the origin of such things or why they are as trendy as they are at this moment, however I am devising a bucket list for myself. Unlike those who find their bucket lists twenty years later in the bottom of their hope chests, smudged and illegible, I plan on preserving mine. The items I have jotted on the list are as full of personality as my dreams, and, I feel, represent everything I want to accomplish and the excitement I have for the future. While I may not know when I will start or how I will begin, I want this to take me somewhere.
I have friends who have accomplished more than I in shorter amounts of time: they have seen the best architecture has to offer, met socially-declared brilliance, climbed greater mountains than I have even seen in photographs, and come away with little-to-nothing from such experiences. They have lost their spark--their fire--to keep moving and searching for daily inspiration. These friends have seen it all and have nothing to say. My bucket list contains all that I have ever spoken of achieving. As of this moment, there are roughly thirty places marked on my list I have always wanted to see. They range from within my own country to overseas. And underneath one list lies another full of things to collect along the way--memories. As stated in The Wonder Years, "Memory is a way of holding onto the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lose." My memory has done me well so far, and if I could ask for anything, it is to never lose touch with the side of my brain that stores such precious jewels so that I can remember more and remain always open to the processes of learning and loving.
Textbooks illustrate the bigger picture, but I am looking for the finite details--the moments in life quickly fading, the stone on walls chipping away, the wrinkles gathering on the brow of great men. And if one day I finally sit in my dream room full of postcards and pictures of the amazing people I have met and the places I have seen, I will not see the amount of time and money spent to get there, I will not see the accomplishments of my life, but I will remember the moments I was blown away, embraced and all the times I laughed and cried. The treasures I collect along the way will not be to remind me of how amazing I am for having seen it all, but to remind me of how quickly time moves and how precious life is. The truth is, one can live forever in constant motion and still never see it all. And, as the character Logan Huntzberger says in Gilmore Girls, "People can live a hundred years without really living for a minute." I choose to really live. I shall begin where I am until I can move forward with my official list.
A bucket list is more than just a list of things to do before one dies. It is a list of purpose.
And to add a bit of humor to this post, I have posted the half of my list that talks about the places I want to visit on my other not-quite-as-awesome-blog. (Seriously, I could forget about that blog tomorrow and never look back.)