Dream On

I've had this bucket list knocking around in my head for awhile.

I have yet to actually take the time to sit down with a pen and a pad of paper, think carefully, and write them all down. I haven't wrote it out, because actually seeing it on paper, I fear, will fill me with anxiety that maybe most of the list will stay just on paper, as most of my wants are far away travels, or conquering things I fear most, my Mount Everest's.

Instead, I keep the list safe in my head, away from my eyes, where I can imagine I am fearless and triumphant, where I can have a conversation in my head that says "yes, you can!, or, "go ahead!" instead of my eyes reading a list, saying "no, you can't" or, "Dream on!"

I've been doing a lot of thinking and soul searching these last few months, questioning what it is I truly believe, and my purpose in this life. I think of these in terms of what comes from the core of me, not apologizing for any of my truths or molding to what other people think, or want me to be. Maybe that's what you do in your thirties? Start to cement these findings into a person that is honestly and uniquely you? I feel as if I am just starting to wake up from a coma. I am feeling again, I am wanting again, which is new. I was so used to the numbness inside, I thought it would last forever. Ten years ago a person died inside of me, and is just now starting to regenerate. There are pieces of her, blown apart, that were annihilated, unrecoverable, tossed into the throw away pile, and pieces of her that were somewhat salvageable. These pieces are broken, but still being woven into the new that has pushed past the surface, all these years later.  The bucket list is back on my radar after taking a long hiatus, asking for some attention.


On Thursday, I got to check off one of my top 5 off my bucket list, something I have so badly wanted  to do since I was eighteen years old. We went to a Pink Floyd concert. I had this deep, soul satisfying moment, up in row 15 , seat #7, as Roger Waters sang "Goodbye Blue Sky" one of my favorite Pink Floyd songs. I almost couldn't breathe, mesmerized by hearing the amazing music live, as if they were singing it just for me. That's what happens when you cross something off your bucket list. A big, black marker draws a line through the words in your brain, and in its place, a memory is made, diving straight into your heart. Bucket list satisfaction.


The concert quenched the thirst for that drink, but I am still thirsty for more. There is more I intend on crossing off that long list o' mine.

 Get a tattoo.
 Yodel across the Grand Canyon.
 Feel the mist on my face standing on the cliffs in Ireland.
 Run barefoot on Bermuda's famous pink sand. 
 Be able to go on a plane again.
 Kiss Jeremy under the Eiffel Tower.
 Swim with dolphins in the freedom of their own waters
 New Years Eve in NYC
 Go an a walkabout
 Hold my own grandchildren
 Watch the bats fly out of Bracken cave, TX (seems morbid, but, 20 million fly out!, wanna see that!)
 Spend Christmas in Hawaii
 Learn Spanish


The crazy thing about a bucket list, is you have no guarantee when that bucket will fall over. Could be tomorrow, could be years from now. It's easy to be caught up in the everyday, stay comfortable in routine. I am very guilty of that. I call it the "beige life." Beige is safe, beige is neutral. Why not push yourself into the green? Dip your legs into the blue? Bring the red up to your lips for a taste? This life was only meant to live once, no backsies, no trade-sies. Why not take that life of yours and run with it?

It is yours, and waiting.


You just need to push past the beige.

      I saw my sister-in-law this weekend, and she showed me this. We have been talking for years about getting butterfly tattoo's in memory of Vanessa, since her name is a type of butterfly. She did it, and got one, a check off the old bucket list. Thanks, Bets, it's so beautiful, and means a lot to us. XO