As many of you are (painfully) aware, I’ve recently become an Empty Nester. Along with the expected emotional upheaval (I miss my kids a whole, whole lot), I’m working through some other garbage. Namely, I’ve reached the rather painful conclusion that my life is half over, and (aside from rearing two dynamite young people) I haven’t done a damn thing with it.
And so, it is in that psychological state that I present to you, in no particular order, a list.
By now, I thought I might’ve:
- opened a combination bookstore/muffin shop
- started a Christmas tree farm that employed women who were formerly imprisoned
- climbed a rather large mountain
- and then repelled down from it
- written a short fiction piece for The New Yorker
- written a children’s story
- written the Great American Novel
- written a prize-winning essay
- written anything really, of any sort of consequence at all
- published a photo in Life
- helped to start a tiny home community for people experiencing homelessness
- participated in a tough mudder
- or least run a 5K
- gone to law school
- become fluent in American Sign Language
- opened a counseling agency to serve families with Deaf members
- become an astronaut
- become a trainer at SeaWorld
- taught a college class
- swum with porpoises
- gone on an African safari
- visited the pyramids in Egypt
- piloted a hot air balloon
- become a journalist
- become an advertising executive
- experienced the redwoods
- learned to rock climb
- opened a restaurant specializing in pot pies of all sorts–both sweet and savory (this one’s actually a new idea, but it belongs on this list in any case)
- hiked the Grand Canyon
- learned to play the alto saxophone
- gone bungee jumping
- owned a horse
- gone snowboarding
- met Harrison Ford
- learned appropriate self-disclosure (ha!)
- gone skydiving
- become a cellist
There are surely more, but I’m going to stop there. Today, #13 seems the easiest place to start getting caught up, and I have a date with my spiffy new running shoes.