Bucket List Bonanza: Tiny Light's "Top Ten" Bucket List
For all the dreams that rise up
to get caught in your throat
and turn into wishes,
Dare to drop each one onto
the bucket list of your lifetime.
Let them be your lighthouse,
Streetlights to guide your
way home.
–Dena Parker Duke, "The History of the Future"
Everyone has a bucket list, meaning everyone has things they are longing to do or experience. You might not realize it or call it that, especially since that term comes from what one hopes to do before they "kick the bucket" (or die, in the fashion of animals who were slaughtered in the 16th century). But even if we go after them passionately or don't dare to wish them out loud, they are there.
What we do with them is our unique journey.
The keynote speaker's first words were, "Don't let teaching eat you up," and I still remember how wonderful that sounded. After six years as a play therapist working with homicidal and suicidal preschoolers, I fantasized about devoting myself to the "fun" of teaching, wanting nothing more than to be eaten up by it. I then found myself at one of my husband's work parties surrounded by biologists, most of whom had cross-country skied to the party, next to a small research lab deep in the woods. After being less than impressed with my being a teacher, they were curious about how I spent my summers off, suggesting that it had to be the only reason anyone would ever teach. Instead, they got the story of how I couldn't wait to put on my clothes in the morning because I wanted to jump straight into the car and get to work. They got the biggest kick out of that and asked me to repeat it to a growing audience. Like them, my husband was off on many outdoor adventures, and we had no children yet, so I was primed and ready for teaching to eat me up.
Poet Mary Oliver, when asked
how she was able to build a life around poetry said,
"I was very careful never to take an interesting job…"
Along with the sheer joy and complete exhaustion of finding ways to inspire students, I fell increasingly in love with the written word. Remembering how I had secretly written lyrics and poetry to survive while growing up, I became inspired by the rawness of 2nd-grade poetry and determined to make a space for writing somehow. Around this time, I participated in a Summer Writing Institute for teachers. Many walked out the door on hearing that we'd be expected to write (like so many students wish they could), but I returned for three summers, and my life as a real writing teacher and full-fledged writer/poet began. I learned to cultivate authentic audiences, create a safe writing community in my classroom, and wove it into every subject as a means of thinking, learning, and expression. However, during that chaotic time, I was constantly reminded that writing requires space to breathe, process, and reflect, which was my life's antithesis. No matter how hard I worked for over 30 years, I never once felt calm or caught up. And so I found myself just as the keynote speaker had predicted: burned up and completely eaten up. Retirement held the hope of rebuilding a life around my dreams. So, I started a few years early to construct the ultimate bucket list to address all the things I had put off, neglected, and denied were important and was longing for. I could share the list with those who would gather 'round to ask why I had not yet left on my travels (which did not even garner a place on my list). Please consider this an invitation to think about your own list. If you start yours even sooner, you may avoid the ones that involve basic self-care, just sayin'…
So here is my TOP TEN Bonanza Bucket List (and an invitation for you to think about your own):
1. To Take a Long Leisurely Breath (Contemplation 1.0)
If you rush, you can lose yourself. But if you are too used to hurrying,
you may not even notice the loss.
–Day by Day: Meditations on Mindfulness by Sister Stan
After a lifetime of trying to "hurry up and reflect," I wanted to take an untimed look back at my life. Perhaps jumping from childhood trauma into being a workaholic in the midst of starting the delicate dance of creating a family made the perfect conditions for what can only be described as an inner crisis. I found myself almost desperate to stay put to revisit old haunts, old relationships, old experiences, buried feelings, and unfinished business that surfaced on quiet walks, in journal entries, in old poems, and in vivid dreams. After decades of interruptions, I sat with myself feeling my one breath and listening to my one heart. Although I had done this in short stints, I never developed a regular practice, so it never had a chance to nurture or fully enlighten me. With the best of intentions, I had spent far too much time trying to emulate, educate, protect, and encourage others without giving myself the same considerations.
Stabilitas Loci is an ancient practice of remaining in one place in retreat until reaching a realization or completing an inner task.
(While some can only do so while exploring new places, some of us need to stay put to concentrate our energies.)
2. To Deal with My "Savings"
While others were saving up money for retirement, I was saving piles of things to address at a later time. There became towering stacks of poems mixed in with urgent receipts, lists of important unread books, unheeded health reports, untasted time-saving recipes, yoga poses never held, emails important enough to have been hard copied, and thousands of photos:
Remember free duplicate copies from the drugstore taking every picture, including the bad ones, and doubling them for you? Trust me, they were bound to end up stacked, piled, and fallen over on the floor.
All these things together signaled a life that felt like a tangled drawer of cords. While many things earned a long overdue place in the trash (and throwing away even bad photos feels like throwing away parts of your life forever), others called out to be sorted, filed, analyzed, organized, heeded, tasted, completed, and, most of all, shared. But asking myself why I had saved each thing helped me separate out treasures and clean the clutter out of my mind and heart.
3. To Acknowledge, Own, and Define Healing for Myself
While working simultaneously on the items on this top ten list, I began to untangle things and move forward in life. Dealing with the mountain of poetry sorted into multiple mounds was like deep diving into my subconscious. I could see myself slowly healing my way through childhood and into and through my adult life. Poetry was a train that took me to places inside to acknowledge and heal, so I made reading and writing it into a daily sacred practice. But it was time to bring those old poems and healing into the conscious light of day. Although some were troubling and full of joy, I knew they all deserved more than to lay in those piles on the floor. A good friend asked if I'd prefer to burn up at least the troubling ones, and I knew if I did, they would be lost to me forever. I also had a sense that there was magic in the poems as a collection, and I couldn't wait to see where they would lead. It was an anthropological dig through my own life. I stopped trying so hard to control how it looked and let it be messy and beautiful all at once. As it turned out, laying dormant in those piles was a first book that was raw and unfiltered that turned into a service project, two more books of healing poetry, a children's book (the book I need- even now), and a website that grew into a place to promote healing (atinylight.com) along with an unexpected online presence. Publishing was indeed an unexpected turn along the way. Following my dreams put me in the right place at the right time with the right pile of poems in my hand when that opportunity presented itself. While some might wonder how those things were healing, they were the reality of every meme or quote that swears that bottling things up will eat you up (worse than a demanding job), and getting them out in the safest way possible is essential to real authentic fulfillment.
A burro once, sent by express, His shipping ticket on his bridle,
Ate up his name and his address, And in some warehouse, standing idle,
He waited till he like to died. The moral hardly needs the showing:
Don’t keep things locked up deep inside- Say who you are and where you’re going.
Walker Gibson, “Advice to Travelers”
Don't ever let anyone tell you how to heal.
By the time they do you will have already started anyway.
The minute a knife dips into your heart your body will have been put
on alert
alarm sounded
soul set on guard.
You will be on the path with a clear destination…
They will say to leave your couch
travel, look happy
and you will know that your look will
never tell the story
of where you are or
where you've been or
where you're going or even
bother to give an estimated time of arrival.
–Dena Parker Duke, "ETA", When You Know
"Vulnerability is our most accurate measurement of courage." — Brené Brown
4. To Own My Health… it's Wealth, Right? (This included a separate bucket list of medical needs & annoyances)
I am always looking for a savior, especially in my doctors. Around the time of my retirement, my longtime doctor left, and I blindly signed up for her replacement. Luckily, this new doctor took a look at my health bucket list, and we began going down it together with a plan of action for each item. We started with the story of my heart:
Many years ago, I was persuaded to take my 2-year-old to a chiropractor for an ear infection right before he was scheduled to have tubes placed in his ears. The treatment worked almost instantaneously, which convinced me to undergo a screening X-ray for pain in my neck (on an ancient machine that looked like Dr. Frankenstein’s). The doctor then, forced by Idaho law, disclosed that he inadvertently saw some hardening of the arteries in the X-ray. I didn't know what to do with that information but shared it with my old doctor, who promptly put me on a statin drug (based on the x-ray and family history of my father and all his brothers dying of heart disease), and I took it blindly for decades. Over time, several ultrasounds were done that possibly detected a microscopic thickening, but the medication was never fully discussed. Every year, when I had my cholesterol checked, this doctor would remark how well the statin was at keeping my numbers low while I kept reminding her that they had always been low and that was not why I was allegedly taking the drug. Being a rule follower, I kept taking it. Thank goodness my new doctor finally joined me in trying to decipher if that was the best course of action. That took me to a lipidologist specializing in people with low cholesterol whose bodies still manufacture plaque. After a heart scan (to determine once and for all if there was actually a significant progression), a stress test, and extensive blood analysis, he determined that I was not getting any benefit by being on this drug and that my heart was in good shape (and set up a five-year plan to monitor it). It felt so good to check that off my list in red. But it was there I also learned that I was carrying a substantial cardiac risk in my sleeplessness…
5. To Learn How to Sleep Again
I slept like a baby until I had a baby. Being in baby bliss, I didn't pay much attention to it. In fact, I took pride in doing more with less and less sleep. However, the constant interruptions of my sleep seemed to put it in jeopardy of going away altogether. I began to let unhealthy sleep habits accumulate. For the first time, I desperately needed coffee and was put on a sleep aid that lasted for 25 years. It was not supposed to be physically addictive, but I became psychologically addicted to it. A sleep doctor ordered a sleep study where I discovered that even though I didn't fit the stereotype, I had 17 obstructions to my breathing in one night and was diagnosed with sleep apnea. I was referred to sleep therapy, but due to the sheer volume of people with sleep disorders in my town, my only choice was to attend group therapy. I sat in the back of a room crowded with military personnel with support dogs, older men with breathing problems, and a multitude of other sleep-deprived women (each sharing something in common with me). Together with them, I battled through this with increasing urgency on top of the addiction, school projects, report cards, sub plans, planning playdates, trying to remember dreams or poems, and, by that time, that sweet baby who had become a teenager in the throes of puberty (which makes it doubly hard for a mom to sleep). I was now not only in a battle with sleep but, eventually, with menopause, too. The years had piled up until I had a rubber band ball too big to unwind easily. I made some drastic changes to save my sleep, but I knew I wouldn't totally get through this until that baby was fully grown and I was in full retirement. It took a full two years after retiring to break the addiction, find the proper treatment for my sleep apnea, and make sleep the comfort it's meant to be. But slowly I began to cultivate hours of REM and deep sleep into 5-6 hours a night, which I learned may just be enough for some of us.
Sweet sleep syrup
I want to suck
you down in slurps
and swallows not
stopping to burp
back or savor.
–Dena Parker Duke, "Sleep", In Your Bones
6. To Get "In Shape"
I didn't know how much I needed to heal my relationship with food and my body until I tried to get "into shape" for the first time in my life. As someone who never struggled a lot with weight, I didn't truly understand how destructive the pull in our culture is for all things related to diet and exercise. It is pervasive, mostly unquestioned, and runs deep. Like most people in America, I was always on a diet of some sort, even if it was nothing more than having a growing list of taboo foods. It was a surprise when I did what always worked before but started to gain weight. In a panic, I went on a "reset" diet and eventually lost 15 lbs. I was feeling very cocky while slowly realizing I had gained another obsession, another addiction. I was already counting and calculating every single minute of sleep and meditation, yet I began to viciously count calories, carbs, my heart rate, and zone minutes. I was counting everything with more brain power than the things that actually counted. It became clear that I was headed down the wrong path.
Step off the scales and quit counting
every single thing
calories & lbs
screen time & likes
sleep scores & silent minutes
ounces & scoops
reps & steps
carbs & crunches
every single heartbeat
Instead
breathe
move
eat
connect
sit
meditate
listen
live
–Dena Parker Duke, "Note to Self", atinylight.com/poems
I found a deep, hungry longing inside to honor myself just as I had by being assertive about my healing and growth and seeing it all as interrelated. I began to use that same approach to what went in my mouth and how I chose to move, vowing to take charge of this and do it my way. So, this goal became the big "unlearning" before I could even begin learning to listen to the hunger I had silenced. I realized I was addicted to dieting as a way of life rather than living. I gained back some weight and then stopped tracking it. However, over time (and some weight training), I lost an osteoporosis diagnosis and went off another drug!! But, getting "in shape" has taken on a new meaning and is more about trusting myself on all fronts. Intuitive eating has helped me regain an appreciation of the diversity of food around us and use it to nourish my body rather than as a tool to constantly manipulate.
Our addictions will honestly be the death of us,
left unchecked becoming a drip that eats
away at our power and strips our rock hard
resolve rendering it powerless and pitted.
They take something we once loved and set it so
high on a pedestal that it can't possibly satisfy and
all we can do is bite, snort, chug, and buy more
until we are consumed by our own ruthless cravings.
It's when we habitually go past the point of full that we
lose touch with enough, or when we ignore our own
pangs of hunger or thirsting for all that nourishes and
quenches and completes us that we lose
our clock, our compass, our captain.
If we let them reign we are saying
it's done, impossible, finished.
If we don't, then maybe we can get on
with the raw satisfaction of living.
–Dena Parker Duke, "How to Live", When You Know
7. To Own My Style and My Stuff
There was a time when creating fabrics and clothing to dress your body was necessary and considered an art. Now, the idea of personal style seems trivial, but deserves to be acknowledged because it was such a surprising outcome of owning my own life. One of my many "aha moments" was realizing I was trying to hold onto many potential lives in my closet. I had accumulated all types of personas that I could put on. One of the joys of being young is tapping into the realization that you get to create yourself and your life. Part of growing up is settling into who you really are, which requires you not to keep trying on other possibilities every day. While having an eclectic style is fine, having full wardrobes for all possibilities is too much, especially when many are stiff and don't fit who you are. I started divesting myself of the many clothes (and things) that didn't feel right. It was much more than just getting rid of my teacher's wardrobe. The more my clothes fit my life, the more I let loose a multitude of options. I also indulged in wearing things I didn't feel I should at my age (i.e. welcome back to overalls and chunky earrings). It felt good to let so many things go to people who could use them and, in doing so, get my closet into "shape," narrowing it down to what mattered most and learning to value my opinion and choices. I also slowly broke myself of the habit of using piles and stacks to put things that mattered in amongst things that didn't or using the floor as a work surface or storage space.
"I have prayed for years for one good humiliation a day, and then,
I…watch my reaction to it…" –Father Richard Rohr
I also learned that doing laundry is a spiritual practice with the best of them…
Look after your laundry, and your soul will look after itself.
–W. Somerset Maugham, How to Love Your Laundry by Patric Richardson
8. To Undergo a Relationship Inventory: Let Go, Claim, and Reclaim Relationships
It had been dawning on me for a long time that I had many judgments but didn't know myself. So, my first order of business was to get to know myself on a deeper, more compassionate level. The best tool for me was the Enneagram (an in-depth system of analysis for personality types), which taught me that the Golden Rule was not enough. The first thing said about it was that it could bring peace on Earth because it could help us transform the golden rule into: Treat others the way they need to be treated (vs. treating others the way I want to be treated). It helped me gain a profound understanding of my natural tendencies and recognize others', thus providing me with much-needed insight. It stopped me from expecting others to recognize I was trying so hard to treat them well when they might even be triggered by what I generously offered. From there, I began to focus on those closest to me, even though that meant facing some cold, hard truths, regrets, and changes. It was painful and powerful. Our most important relationships are by far the hardest to maintain. Those are the folks we are plowing through life with, the easiest to take for granted, the ones that we have to keep changing with through the years, requiring us to adjust and recalibrate. Next began the work of looking at all my connections and determining how to disconnect and reconnect to rebuild a renewed circle of support and love. The beautiful thing about this goal is that it was more of a by-product of everything I did to build a more authentic life. It was a natural pulling closer to those ties that were real and a falling away from those that weren't. As certain clothes felt more comfortable, so did relationships. I became more intentional about what I needed and more realistic about what was right in front of me. I joined some new groups and left others behind that weren't serving me well. Consequently, I enjoyed relationships more and felt their natural give and take. I also enjoyed making more new connections than ever. It was one more way of getting myself "in shape."
9. Inner Sight (Insight- Contemplation 2.0)
All my life, I've been told what to believe. It was so forcefully imposed that I had to suspend all belief to find one true thought about it for myself. I also saw this happening all around me and found it to be preposterous, violent, arrogant, and ignorant. I resented feeling like I couldn't have a spiritual life because of it. So, after a couple of decades of only being open to a Mystery (agnostic), I set out to see for myself if I could have a personal relationship with a higher power that could enhance my life. I wondered if, rather than threatening or embarrassing me, it could include calming daily spiritual practices rich with meaningful rituals and sustaining inner peace. In doing so, I discovered that my early longing to be a nun (not even knowing what that meant) was a deep longing for a spiritually whole interior life that would include contemplation and the profound reflections of a writer's life.
Contemplation allows us to see the truth of things in their wholeness…
[it’s a] gift that detaches us…from our addiction to our habitual way of thinking…
And that takes a lot of practice–in fact, our whole life becomes one continual practice.
–Richard Rohr, Just This: Prompts & Practices for Contemplation
I got serious about this when I signed up for an 18-month spiritual quest program complete with my own "spiritual companion," whom I met with monthly. It involved six retreats focusing on forgiveness, healing, and various practices, engaging me in deep spiritual topics that touched on meaning and service. I was introduced to a smorgasbord of spiritual practices to try out. While I assumed meditation would draw me in, I found it challenging not knowing how to deal with my constant inner chatter. Centering prayer was the thing I most avoided as prayer felt tainted, but it eventually became the most intriguing once the leader pulled out a poem to center on. It was the perfect portal to draw me into meditation. That led me to directly explore the trauma I had around religion and realize all that was standing in the way of love. I felt like a spiritual refugee because I had let someone else's cruel God not only limit me, but also define who I was. I started to develop my inner sight (insight) into how to make the inside of me match the outside. It was then that I became acquainted with the wisdom of Alcoholics Anonymous. I was surprised that some of my Top Ten were tried and true practices of The 12-Step program (i.e., the relationship inventory). From there, I found that AA had a whole section devoted to those recovering from life in severely dysfunctional families, and this offered some structure to help me heal. Through the years, I also found therapy, hypnosis, and energy work helpful, and it was delightful to discover so much support in the world everywhere once I opened up to it. This was by far my most significant and fulfilling accomplishment yet. The healed, contemplative, spiritual writer's life all started to feel just right (of course, all of those became aspirations of my daily practices).
There are times we get called into blinding
darkness
like a seed
to smell rich dirt and
feel moisture filling our cracks
To learn the invisible art of absorption to
slip us out of our stiff coatings
to experience the adventure of
naked roots plunging deep
down below the surface into
new sights
insights
-–Dena Parker Duke, "Insights", atinylight.com/poems
10. Outer Sight
I placed what I feared the most at the end of my list. Even though my Father passed on in 2013, he generously bestowed on me a genetic eye condition with one treatment: corneal transplants. For 12 years, I waited to go blind so I could face this treatment. In those years, the treatment became more refined and accessible, even in my hometown. The timing coincided with Medicare coverage, which helped cover it all in full. So the most significant thing on my list ended up being, if not a breeze, at least manageable. Over the last year, making it through two corneal transplants made me ready to forge ahead with seeing my way through the rest of my life. What felt like the biggest challenge I would have to face turned into the quickest (only 11 months compared to the other things on my list, some of which are ongoing). This ends in a whimper because the thing I feared most was not to be feared at all. Yes, I had a brush with tissue rejection and will probably use eye drops forever, not to mention it only lasts for around 15 years, but I made it. It's behind me. My eyes are now "in shape". I can see.
And in closing, I want you to know that before those surgeries,
I took a delightful trip to France
with old friends!
And since I haven't yet "kicked the bucket"
I get to start on a whole new list… ~dpd :)
What’s on your list today??
