My Bucket List Life Line
At the beginning of February, I completed the final self-edit of my book, The Great Goal Rush: How Creating a Yearly Bucket List Changed My Life, a love letter to the quirky, joyful, and sometimes wildly ambitious tradition I’ve kept for over a decade. Days later, I was placed on unpaid furlough due to USAID cuts by the Trump administration. A career I’ve spent nearly twenty years building, was abruptly paused. Not because the work stopped mattering, but because of political decisions rooted in cruelty. It was more than a professional setback. It was heartbreak.
And yet, even in the face of uncertainty, for the world and for me personally, I refused to let that moment kill my spirit. Instead, I turned to the thing that has always grounded me when the road ahead feels unclear: my bucket list. I dove into my 2025 goals, and even more powerfully, returned to the decades-old intentions I had jotted down and left unfinished. What I found were not just tasks, but tiny lifelines—simple dreams, adventures, and acts of care waiting patiently to be honored.
There was comfort in the small things: “Eat a sunny-side-up egg.” “Read a screenwriting book.” “Finalize Lillie’s bank account.” There was wonder in the bigger ones: “Visit a Dark Sky Sanctuary.” “Take BMX lessons.” “Make furniture with my dad.” Each one was a reminder of who I’ve been and what has always mattered. They offered structure and purpose.
That’s the beauty of long-term goal setting. When life falls apart, when your future feels foggy, when every plan you made is upended—you still have a map. Not one dictated by job titles or institutions, but one drawn from your own values, your curiosity, your sense of self. This wasn’t the chapter I expected after finishing my book. But maybe that’s the point. The list never promises a straight path, just a meaningful one.
So if you find yourself lost, grieving, or starting over, maybe it’s time to write your own bucket list. Not to do more, but to remember who you are, and who you still hope to be. The world may pause. The plans may change. But you’re still here. And there’s still so much more to do.
Here’s the simultaneously mundane and fun list that I will write more about:
Visit primary care doctor for prescriptions and treatment
Go to Art in Bloom at the Anderson House
Eat a sunny-side-up egg
Walk the Lorton Workhouse path to Occoquan Regional Park
Read a screenwriting book
Go to Lancaster Central Market in Lancaster, PA
Do yoga daily
“Nourish body” aka perimenopause cleanse
Finalize setting up Lillie’s bank account
Visit the Harriet Tubman mural in Cambridge, MD
Visit the Lucille Ball statue in Jamestown, NY
Visit the Loving Marker outside of Richmond, VA
Participate in a Wikipedia-thon
Make furniture with my Dad
Visit the National Bureau of Engraving and Printing
Visit a Dark Sky Sanctuary
Take BMX lessons
