I’ve been trying to write a bucket list for almost a year now. Yeah, you read that correctly. ONE. YEAR.
I don’t know why it’s so tough for me, I mean, it’s a list of things you want to do before you die, right? I feel like that should be an easy task, but I’ve Googled “Ideas for a Bucket List,” numerous times now. I just can’t seem make a list long enough to write down.
So, the other day, I was listening to a Jack Canfield seminar, and he was talking about writing out a list of at least 100 things you want to accomplish before you die. And I got this sudden urge to write a few things down. I was in the car of course, (the really, really great ideas always happen while you’re driving or in the shower) but as soon as I got home I got out my journal and started making my list. I got to number 6…and stalled. And Googled. And Pinterested.
I am now up to number 7. And I was proud that I came up with that many…
Then, I was talking to my roommate about his bucket list, and he named some of the things he wants to accomplish in his life. As I sat and listened to his grandiose plans, I sheepishly pointed out how small my plans were compared to his.
I wanted to ride in first class one day.
I wanted to touch a killer whale.
I wanted to stay in the penthouse suite of a hotel for more than one night.
I felt like my extensive list of seven should’ve been better somehow. More “world peace-y” and “big dreams” type stuff. Why don’t I want to climb Machu Picchu blindfolded or learn Hungarian or something? And why can’t I come up with more than 7 things?
So, guess what my goal is this week? To get 93 more things added to my bucket list.
Wait, make that 92.