Just the other day, I had someone ask me if I had a Bucket List. I laughed and replied, “No. Great movie though.” They said, there’s really nothing you want to do? I said, “No.” They said, “and no where that you really want to travel.” I replied, “Not really.”
After thinking for a few moments, I replied that I am pretty happy with my life. Beyond helping others, and making people happy, I really don’t have any major long-term goals. I talked about how when I was a teen, I had a plan. However, the days are long since the last check on that list expired, and not one of the items on it were accomplished – and that’s ok.
I also mused about the fact that I am a bit of a worrier. I stated that if I am not careful, thinking about tomorrow, or next month, next year, turns into worrying about, make that obsessing over, obstacles and what if’s. It’s a lot healthier for me to take things one day at a time, and enjoy life as it comes.
Yet, this morning I realized that it’s a bit more. Growing up, I spent a lot of time trying to be exceptional so that I could live up to the standards of others. I worried about not being good enough. No goal was ever attainable, and no matter how hard I tried, the bar just kept moving just out of reach. I would get so wrapped up in my hopes and dreams, that when they did not come true, my heart would be so broken that sometimes I didn’t want to go on. By the time I was in middle school, I was so tired of trying that I gave up. I stopped having goals, I stopped trying to be more. I just wanted to be normal. I wanted to be average, and I wanted things to just be simple.
It took quite a bit of time for me to stop worrying about hitting the mark, but I finally did. While I still had hopes and dreams, I was a bit more of a realist about them. I learned that it’s ok to just achieve…