I've got this internal meter in my head, without your help, anyway, that's always asking, "If you died tonight, would you see Jesus?" No wait, that's not the question, I know that one. It's more like "If you died tonight, would everybody be like, oh, man, she had so much potential but she never did jack squat," and it'd be a sermon illustration about carping the dang diem and my kids would have all this pressure to finish all my bucket list because I never did any of it, because I was busy with Facebook. That's so grim! you say. Tell me about it. That's why I only watch comedies, because inside my head it's like some kinda psychoanalytical hipster drama with sad whale music playing a lot of the time. Except the jokes, I do have a lot of jokes in there too. In another compartment. Also recipes.
There's lots of things I want to do, but they're all jumbled up together in the someday category. Get current plates on the car and lose 10 pounds and skydive and buy some more coffee creamer and travel Europe but not with hiking, with cars and trolleys and swanky hotels, not hostels and mountain biking because vacations should not involve sweating, things like this. Also get the cat fixed.
In the meantime, in the now when I have all these little kids and no money to speak of, I am trying to figure out how to be present and joyful and content, even content with myself. That internal dialogue is so unpleasant sometimes, I want to figure out how to improve without the mental self-flagellation.
So maybe I can make a daily bucket list, of sorts. Stuff like,
- try to see my kids without a screen between us;
- be patient, even if I'm late to every single thing on my list;
- be nice to myself, there's enough grace for me for this day;
- quit thinking so much about my legacy and more about today
And then, if I can get the hang of that kind of thinking, maybe then I'll be ready to get a tattoo and pay the water bill.