Why I Don't Have a Bucket List

Note, links are to podcast episodes & specific points in them. Take a listen for context.

On the Mstdfr Show, episode 59, I learned something new about myself. Just after our guest talked about his amazing adventure seeing the Northern Lights, the hosts mentioned their adventures they finally got around to, and then I was called out for not sharing my bucket list (click to listen). 

I did beat around the bush. I tried to shrug it off as laziness. I named cities that I want to go to, it wasn't good enough for them. I presented the combo of wanting to know Arabic & changing the world.

In the spirit of practicality, I get honest and admit how I set up goals, which was met with scoffing. Finally, I admitted it. The joy and euphoria I get when I am safe and doing daily activities is all the bucket-listing I need. This gratitude I feel during these moments is what I imagine ending up at the peak of a mountain feels like. 

What I didn't offer is the reason of this joy. This is an instance where withholding information does feel like lying. It's the reason why it's taken me 3 months to write this post, why I stay quiet when joyful experiences are being shared, and especially why I haven't re-listened to a talk I gave on anxiety. 

I'm surprised I'm alive. I'm in awe that I'm married or have pets or have my own home. To a room full of strangers, and you, I admitted I know what suicidal feelings are, and I knew for a big chunk of years in my life.

This life is more than I feel I've deserved given how ready I was to throw it away. Every moment is an achievement, a gift, and an honor that I can't fit on any list.