The End of Dreaming

There is an alternate hazard, I suppose, to that of creating endless lists comprised of future plans. And that would be the living of them until no further desires remain. The point where invasive realities and uncontrollable circumstances descend—a deep fog obscuring the bygone brilliance of halcyon days. Colorization in reverse: full spectrum vibrancy turned monochrome. The point where the choices don’t make sense any longer, and only confusion remains. What happens when all the dreams are gone away—whether realized or otherwise? When the things one lived for previously have disappeared into the past forever?

What’s left then? And how to make sense of it all. Can meaning be created? Forced? Found again? Hoped for or believed in? The obvious truth is that life goes on with or without overt implications of purpose. Some people care more about this than others.

To wonder what this world might be about may be the most senseless burden a person can voluntarily assume. Crushing, really.

Time, considered a constant in many practical conversations, seems anything but, and paramount somehow to any discussion of reality and the meaning we might impose upon it. It is this concept of time in which we work out our interpretations of attainment and fulfilment, or their antonyms. Time alters as we age. It changes with mood, with activity, when we are with different people and in various environments. Without a feeling of purpose in life, or a someone to mark the memories with, weeks and months melt into years and disappear without notice—while mornings, nights, and hours alone languish in indefinite suspension.

What is there to do then, at least in the meantime, but move from macro to micro. To focus on maintaining, to figure out improving. To hold fast to hope. To do the things, and work at appreciation in the moment. To be open to new experience and change. To eat less sugar and play some more guitar. To get some rest. To sleep, perchance to dream.

March in Alaska is appreciation in the moment. The light, the snow, the warming temps. Every single day importunes to be lived in. Recent things: hiking six miles up the McKay trail with MA, Jack, a sled, and enjoying a few speedy descents; killer day of skiing with Sean on the old Fairbanks to Circle route; long shadows and tea time on big solo Stiles Creek loop; the Fairbanks World Ice Art Championships; my little place in the birch trees and the more guitar part. (Might have to give the page a minute.) They say you have to perform to get better. With gratitude and apologies to Mr. Guy Clark.

Dublin Blues

The (Puke) Bucket List

Having done no real research into the origin of the phrase ‘Bucket List,’ I will simply proclaim with confidence that the idea of cataloging ones cravings pertaining to travel and experience went mainstream with the eponymous 2007 movie co-starring Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman. I remember watching the film around the time it came out, and enjoying it in the feel-good, mindlessly entertained manner intended (though with perhaps a deeper message overtly delivered).

In subsequent years, the phrase began to permeate the common lexicon and inundate the imaginations of millions of would-be travelers and experiencers. Most everyone, it seems, has a bucket list these days, and is happy to share that fact in casual conversation. Whether there is an actual bulleted list that lives on the back pages of mostly blank journals, or ideas that simply exist in the universe of intentions, its presence is regularly mentioned though rarely acted upon. Daring to dream, but not bothering to do.

As you may have ascertained from the title of this post, I’m not a big fan of the expression, or the expression of it. I don’t hate it in a serious manner, of course. More like a mildly perturbed one as with any time I hear someone sharing some trite cliché. A little cringe-worthy, it is. There are two reasons for the trifling revulsion, both of them, I’m sure, topics touched on at other points on this blog. The first one is the distance between words and actions; and the second has to do with consumeristic collection of events as compared to appreciation of authentic experience.

One of my most difficult struggles in life repeatedly resurfaces in activity-planning conversations with others. People talk. Sometimes they believe themselves, sometimes they simply say what they think others want to hear. They make plans on the premise that they might truly like to do whatever it is they say they’re going to do. They want to be the person that would get up in the morning committed to crafting a gratifying lifestyle. However, those plans are often made with the (perhaps subconscious) knowledge that when the time comes there’s little to no chance of said plan coming to fruition. As with dieting, exercise, and the cessation of self-destructive behaviors, many people like to imagine an idealized existence of motivation and fulfillment. In reality, however, the fridge beckons irresistibly, cigarettes and cocktails prove too inviting, and the couch feels way too comfortable come Saturday morning.

Having a bucket list is a lot like making New Year’s resolutions or even dreaming of winning the lottery. All of these things are benign in practice, and it’s often fun to envision a fortuitous restructuring of our personal circumstances. The only harm in resolutions and bucket lists is imagining that any of these things are truly going to happen without dedication and effort. And if a person isn’t willing to put either into the manifestation of their goals, there’s about as much chance of them happening as picking the Powerball.

This pattern, that of talk without action, blab without intention, the jib flapping and tongue wagging and word vomiting, only partially represent the overwhelmingly misdirected coopting of the bucket list ideal. There is also the issue of people doing things solely to say they did them. The accumulation of packaged adventures. The checking of the box, and buying of the t-shirt, and flaunting of the instantly posted photos. It is always mildly depressing to hear a rafting client exclaim: “I can’t wait to check this one off,” as we prepare to go down the river—the experience already over before it begins. To mark things off a list generally signifies getting them done and over with so that we can move on with our lives, little appreciation given to the chores that need crossing out. There is only a slim chance of truly living in the moment given such an attitude, where phone calls and photos are mentally making people jealous (adding items to their own bucket lists) even before the day’s journey commences.

It is even more disheartening, though more rule than exception these days, to witness individuals entirely consumed with their technologies rather than in physical experience. Obsessed with capturing proof for public reference. And surely this is all too familiar to all of us, expedited experiences forgotten in the moment only to live on in their documentation. As I heard it recently in a Ted talk from Argentina: ‘Como resultado, empezamos a vivir la vida para mostrarla, no para disfrutarla…’  [As a result, we began to live life to show it off, not to enjoy it…] And yes, it is fun to share our lives with others (as demonstrated on these pages), but it is even more imperative to live it for ourselves.

As such, the bucket list—if we are to define it as things you really want to experience/achieve before you die—should be getting shorter all the time, and each bullet on it best be meaningful. Which seems to be the problem with most people’s use of the phrase. To hear the items come up, the lists seem never-ending and constantly expanding—and based primarily on what other people are doing or have done. The things on it are things people imagine other people looking at photos of them doing, and judging them accordingly as intrepid adventurers and the protagonists of amazing lives. I realize I’m being both dramatic and literal here, but a real bucket list should be things you really want to do, and things you actually can do—and above all there should exist deeply developed reasons corresponding to each yearning. It should be personalized and prioritized and based entirely on individual values and goals rather than insatiable status quo/social media trends. You should have a plan to achieve each item, instead of hoping a chance appears in some far off future. If you want it, you will make it happen.

And if you don’t really want to put in the work—well, just pass me a bucket next time you decide to mention that list. Kinda makes me want to puke.

*Photos from various locations in Argentina 2016