Ya ever notice people make a bucket list when they think they may be nearing the end of their lives here on earth? Or suddenly there is a sense of urgency to get the things done you dreamed by never dared, yet now don’t want to live with the regret of having never tried? A bucket list, by the very definition, is of having a bucket which is empty, filled with dreams, aspirations, dares, trial and error, what-ifs until it is full of a life well-lived.
But why wait? Shouldn’t we always live every day like we are living instead of like, well, like Tim says….we’re dying?
So, I’m filling my bucket now. You know, as I’m living. That gives me the opportunity to either like it or love it, and maybe even do it again if I had a great experience the first time.
I am going to make a list, but aI am not going to share it here. There will be a limit of 10, because that’s always been a good, round and strong number, leaving each item its own self-worth and importance, a stand-alone. I will keep the list to myself, written by hand, and give each one its own space. It may not necessarily be completed before the shared word, but it will be a goal of mine, an idea, a tingle up my spine I strive to accomplish. Who knows? Maybe the written word by its very nature will spur me on. And maybe with your assistance, I can make some happen.
Let me begin:
The FIRST BUCKET LIST item has already been completed.
SKYDIVING
I can’t really say it was a lifelong dream to jump out of a plane. I just decided one day to..just do it. For the heck of it. Because I was in a state of mind and in a respite from my normal marathon and triathlon training days. An injury had forced me to put competitive running on the back burner, and through the lapse, I just needed something…more.
So I decided to jump out of a plane.
I was paired with a guy I had never met. He had a beard and a grizzly look. Probably had even a few Buds a few hours before. Quite honestly, that made the experience even groovier. I felt like I was busting through some time of staid and boring glass ceiling. My kids, all but one of them, came with me. I didn’t tell them where we were going until I got to the fields with the planes. They quickly got the gist, and were actually quite pissed off when they found out what I had been planning to do.
I didn’t let that deter me.
I trained through a video, slapped on the jumper’s uniform, said bye to the kids and climbed into a biplane with the Beard. The only other guy was the GoPro guy. Because, seriously, did it even happen if you didn’t record it? Hell, no.
As we climbed, with the plane door open, I can’t tell a lie: I had my first inkling of “What the hell did I just get myself into????” I were given the option to change my mind…but there wasn’t a chance in Heaven..or Hell…that was happening.
I was scared. And that was awesome. The thrill was amazing.
We climbed over the door, I on the bottom of him…and just …jumped.
Free-falling.
And then the upward thrust of the parachute. The sailing. The soaring. The spinning. And eventually…the landing.
I did it. I went skydiving. I jumped out of an airplane.
And I never felt the need to do it again.
Consider it checked off the list.
On to the next.
#BucketList
jensumandthensome 