Bucket lists and donuts

Not long ago, someone at a party invited everyone to share what was on their “bucket list.” Personally, I didn’t have such a list, although I quickly tried to think of a few things I could put on it if it were a required assignment.

(In case you missed it, the notion of a “bucket list” comes from a 2007 movie by that name starring Morgan Freeman and Jack Nicholson as two old men approaching the end of their days. One explains to the other that the “bucket list” is all the things you’d like to do before you die.)

This experience set me to thinking. Bucket lists seem to be all the rage these days. I just did a quick Google search, and over 15 million entries for “bucket list” popped up. Lots of these were in the “ideas for bucket lists” category, so it seems like folks are hunting for things they might put on their lists. Given their popularity, I started wondering why I had neither a list nor a burning desire to create one. I felt like maybe I was somehow remiss for not having completed this task.

Then, to stir the pot even more, I recently heard an old NPR interview with Nora Ephron, a screenwriter (“You’ve Got Mail,” “When Harry Met Sally,” “Julie and Julia,” “Sleepless in Seattle”), humorist, feminist, and all-around amazing woman who died last month. The interview was from maybe 15 years ago, before Nora had (or knew she had) the leukemia that would take her life. She had written about growing old (I Feel Bad about My Neck), and Terri Gross was talking with her about that topic. Nora said something like this (I’m paraphrasing, but it’s close): “The time I have left is finite. For instance, I have a limited number of meals left. So if a friend says, ‘Let’s go to lunch at x,’ and it’s not a good place, I say, ‘No, let’s not!’” Nora continued: “We all know donuts aren’t healthy. But life is a crapshoot. You could be hit by a bus tomorrow and die. I’m saying, you should have the donut! I’m coming down on the side of the donut!”

“Donuts … bucket lists,” I thought. “What would be my donut, what’s on my bucket list? What am I missing?” My answer: Honestly, nothing I can think of.

Instead of making a wish list for the future, I found myself musing about how full my life has already been. I ended up thinking not about what I still want but about what I’ve already had. For most of my life, I’ve had the great good fortune to be able to do most of things I really wanted to do. I’m just not left with a bunch of unsatisfied yearnings. Maybe to demonstrate this to myself, I made a list of the things I’ve done and those I’m doing now. It was an eye-opening experience. I recommend it highly.

But having thought about this, I wondered, despite all that, should I have bucket list for the future, a box of donuts yet to eat? Knowing that I’m easily captured by the word “should,” I took this question seriously. And then I realized that the very act of taking it so seriously—as if it were an obligation, a requirement—could be a trap. Given my particular obsession with completing assignments, I could easily come to believe that something is wrong with not having such existential longings. It struck me that this fascination with bucket lists and donuts could make me lose sight of the life I have, thinking that the assignment is to imagine a life I could wish for.

Of course, this isn’t an either/or proposition. Bucket lists seem to me a grand strategy. They can help us identify things that we have denied ourselves, positive things that are possible if we just grant ourselves permission and take the initiative to go after them. But it seems like they can also suggest that happiness can only be found somewhere out there, in the exotic and the remote—even if, in fact, we have a rich life right here. Allowing, of course, for the everyday feelings of disappointment and dissatisfaction that we all experience. And keeping open the possibility of spotting something we do want to experience before we kick the bucket.

It strikes me that the difference between a bucket list and Nora Ephron’s donut may lie in the spontaneity of the donut. I like the idea of being open to things that come along, coming down on the side of the donut. But I’m not so sure about formalizing a “To Do” list for the future.

After this mental exercise, I’m feeling more settled about the bucket list thing. I’m hugely grateful for all the experiences I’ve had, and I’m not yearning for anything in particular before I die. This is not to say that I won’t be on the lookout for that donut. But I feel no obligation to create a list, despite the fact that Google has 15 million entries telling me that it’s an assignment.