Thinning the Bucket List: Finding Freedom in Letting Go

Hello out there,

I am enjoying a gentle late-season snowfall, knowing that whatever amount accumulates will not last. I love spring. Suddenly, planning the garden can transition from the abstract in my mind to an active planning stage. I am also a sucker for the idea of spring cleaning, clearing the cobwebs, and swabbing the decks, which fits perfectly with my current legacy focus: What Matters Most.

I confess that I never sat down to make a bucket list. As I get older, I realize that the proverbial ship has sailed on some things I might have included, but I do feel the internal pressure of a clock winding down—should I be striving to see and do more? Is enjoying the slower pace of my simple suburban life a sign of settling? Will I regret not actively pursuing more? For me, for my life, I think the answer is no. I believe there’s freedom in understanding that the pressure to accumulate experiences and unnecessary possessions is a self-imposed construct. Don’t get me wrong, gathering experiences and, more importantly, shared experiences are what our memories are made of and, in the end, oh so valuable. I am simply suggesting that there is great value in curating experiences with great intent.

In truth, since retiring, I feel like I am spending the beginning of my “golden years” recovering from the pressures of a demanding adult lifetime. I see no value in pushing myself away from the pace of life I once longed for now that I have arrived; quite the opposite. I don’t need to strive for bigger, better, more all the time. I have come to believe that contentment is a worthwhile and (highly) underrated goal, found in the peace of having less, not only in physical possessions but also in the mental baggage of outgrown aspirations. I feel a strong obligation to reduce my physical footprint before it becomes a burden for my children to manage, and I look forward to conquering mental clutter as well.


Thinning the bucket list is the deliberate act of letting go. It involves reviewing the list of things we thought we ‘should’ do, achieve, or own, and choosing what no longer serves us. This isn’t about giving up; it’s about shaping our lives, shedding the weight of outdated dreams, physical clutter, and even identities that no longer fit. It’s about crossing items off, not because we’ve achieved them, but because we no longer need to carry their weight.

This idea closely relates to the concept of “Swedish Death Cleaning” (döstädning), which involves gradually decluttering your home to avoid burdening loved ones after you’re gone. Think of it as applying a ‘legacy filter’ to your life. When we remove the unnecessary, we ensure that what remains is the ‘gold’—the meaningful items and memories—rather than the ‘gravel’ of accumulated stuff and forgotten ambitions that others will have to sort through.

Practical Goals for Thinning Your Bucket List: Here are a few actionable steps to help you start curating it.

The ‘One-Room’ Rule: Start small. Choose one room, or even one drawer, and commit to removing items that no longer serve you, bring you joy, or take up space. It’s amazing how clearing a small physical space can clear mental space too.

The Paper Trail: We all accumulate documents—old bills, statements, manuals, and receipts. Dedicate time to shredding old, unnecessary paperwork. Reducing the paper trail is incredibly liberating and simplifies your admin. Consider your digital trail as well. If you are like me, there is a lot of flotsam and jetsam taking up storage space in several locations, both online and off. Pruning your digital profile(s) will be a blessing and reduce vulnerabilities.

The Gift of Now: Many of us save ‘special’ items for ‘special occasions’ that never come, or intend to pass them down someday. Consider giving these treasured items to loved ones now. The joy of seeing them used and appreciated in your lifetime is a gift to both you and them.

A curated life is a manageable life. By intentionally letting go of what no longer serves us, we not only lighten our load but also give a profound gift to our future selves and our families. The curated bucket list isn’t about loss; it’s about gaining freedom and focusing on what truly enriches our lives. It’s about leaving a legacy of intention, not accumulation.


I recently started using a set of nested mixing bowls that remind me of a set my mother used when I was growing up. I found my set in an antique store and initially stored it away to prevent scratches and breakage, thinking that this way, I would always “have” them. However, the other day I realized that having them stored did not allow me to enjoy the memories associated with those bowls. So, I took them out of storage and began using them in my kitchen. This small act turned out to be a win-win; it’s brought me simple daily joy and reduced the clutter in storage.

Most tasks are enhanced when shared with others. If you are in a similar curation process, I would love to hear your “mixing bowl” story. Just type it into the reply box below.

With great warmth for discovering what matters most to you,

Carolynn

Legacy: Celebrating and Commemorating a Life Well-Lived.

As I sit down to write my messages each week, with faithful Luna by my side, I often reflect on legacy—after all, I’m not getting any younger. I wonder how my children and those closest to me will truly remember me. I hope their memories will be rooted in essence, feeling, and understanding, rather than just a list of rote memories and events. Will they recall the long hours I dedicated to building enduring education systems, or will they understand the “why” behind those hours? Will they remember that it was because of them, for them, that I recognized the need for better early education programs?

Similarly, will anyone remember the reasons behind the heart-work I now do around death and legacy? That it all started with my mother’s terminal illness and the approach of her life’s end. As I write this, today marks the sixth anniversary of her passing, and I still feel deep gratitude for being by her side, in her final weeks, as her caregiver and advocate. In those weeks, we engaged in pure legacy work—gathering her photographs, reminiscing about their occasion and meaning, and bringing loved ones from near and far. In truth, I was her end-of-life doula then, though I didn’t realize it at the time.

Intentional legacy work is a powerful way to tell our own story, as unique in the universe as we are as individuals. It allows us to appreciate our life’s contributions, their existence, and their place in the world—or at least in the circles where we are known. Ideally, the impact we have on others becomes the greatest honor of our lives, reflecting the values we upheld and the love we shared.


Celebrating a life doesn’t have to be something saved for after someone passes; it can be a meaningful, ongoing act of remembrance. We can actively honor and create our legacy while we’re still alive. Here are a few options:

Create a ‘living legacy’ in real time by sharing stories as loved ones gather around the kitchen table, looking through photographs. Select some photos to include in a printed collection of the stories. Send copies to everyone at the table that day.

Use a recorder, your phone, or tablet to capture your most memorable stories—yes, the ones you tell again and again. Save them to a USB drive and leave them for your loved ones to enjoy long after you are dancing again among the stars.

Look up a storytelling website, such as Storyworth or Life Story Book, answer questions and quick writing prompts to create a hardcover book of your life story with photos included.

Create a legacy by performing acts of kindness that reflect your values. Stock shelves at the food pantry, walk dogs at the humane society, donate your accounting skills to a small non-profit. This kind of service work might go unnoticed by most, but it is priceless to local organizations, and you will be remembered for your kindness.

Write your own eulogy so that the words spoken after you’re gone reflect what you want most remembered. Have them printed on memorial cards with a photograph to distribute by mail or at a celebration of life.

It’s now easy to gather treasured images and create a professionally printed photographic collage as a gift for your loved ones. Websites like Shutterfly and Mixbook make it simple: just upload your photos and select a template. You can also have them printed on a blanket or throw pillow at these sites or others.

A key part of any legacy is the personal, one-of-a-kind words we leave for our loved ones—those messages we craft to guide, comfort, and inspire them long after we’re gone.

There are as many ways to express legacy as there are people to create them. Doulas have experience in finding or developing a wide range of custom projects that capture your personality and reflect your values, but there are several simple ways to do it on your own. Whether through books, websites, or word-of-mouth, legacy doesn’t have to be complicated, and completing it can bring a great sense of fulfillment in final days.


Thank you for taking the moments to consider legacy with me again today. As always, I would love to hear your ideas and experiences. Please use the Reply box below to share.

With warm and loving regards,

Carolynn

Honor Life: Craft Legacy

Everyone has one; some may seem obvious or more readily evident than others, but everyone has a legacy—an inner essence, a quiet accomplishment, a life lived with great love. The best news is that you can be intentional about legacy and shape it by what matters most at your core.

Because bonus hours aren’t guaranteed, investing some time in a legacy project now helps ensure peace of mind at end of life. There is a wonderful book that features creative legacy work by End-of-Life Doula Diane Button called “What Matters Most: Lessons the Dying Teach Us About Living.” In it, there are some examples of how legacy work can be crafted in unique and meaningful ways—even in the final days. Legacy projects, both large and small, are labors of love and truly worthy of time and attention before energy and focus become divided in the sudden and unexpected absence of time. Doulas are experienced in creative legacy work and can step in early to help bring yours to fruition.

One of the things I have crafted for legacy is a series of short profiles, each on a double-sided page, that encapsulates the essence of the person it profiles. It is both words and pictures, printed on cardstock, tucked into a page protector, and intended as a simple snapshot of a life that touched mine in a meaningful way —some are relatives, a few are friends, and there are two personal heroes. The project was inspired by my children and grandchildren, having little firsthand knowledge of my family of origin and the folks who helped shape my life in the early years, before I moved to Maine. They may have an interest, at some point, and this is my solution.

This idea made sense to me because organizing words and pictures comes easily to me, but it is not for everyone. It is just one means to help transfer legacy. The options are truly limitless and as individual as we are. There really is no right or wrong, except maybe to leave it undone.

The following expands into some time-tested legacy work.


In the “bonus hours” of a life that is nearing its close, there is a shift from the external world to the internal landscape. A change where life review has seen that this time is not merely a waiting period, but a fertile ground for ‘Legacy Work’—the intentional act of distilling a lifetime of experience into a beacon for those we leave behind.

Legacy work is more than an archive; it is a bridge of connection and a final gift of clarity. Here are three powerful ways to engage in this soulful practice:

1. The Life Review: Finding the Golden Thread
A life review is a gentle, guided journey through one’s unique story. Unlike a simple timeline of events, a life review seeks the ‘why’ behind the ‘what.’ It is the process of looking back at pivotal moments—successes, heartbreaks, and quiet turning points—to identify the threads of meaning and grace that have woven the tapestry of your life. By reflecting on these patterns, we often find that even the most difficult seasons held a hidden purpose and can help us now understand what matters most in the end—a sense of completion. Doulas are skilled at thoughtfully facilitating the Life Review exercise to foster fulfillment and peace of mind.

2. Life Summary: A Tapestry of Words and Pictures

While memory is fluid, a Life Summary provides a tangible anchor for your loved ones. This is the art of combining a narrative summary with cherished photographs. Images often bypass the intellect and speak directly to the heart, capturing the essence of a smile or the spirit of an era. When paired with written reflections, this summary becomes a living document—a way for future generations not just to know *about* you but to feel the resonance of your being.

3. Using Your Own Voice: The Final Message Perhaps the most empowering act of legacy is writing your own eulogy or obituary. Traditionally, these are tasks left to the grieving, who may be clouded by loss. By taking up the pen yourself, you ensure that your final message reflects your true essence, your values, and the lessons you most wish to impart. Speaking in your own voice allows you to say what matters most, offering comfort and direction to your family in the very moments they need it.

4. The Living Celebration: Who Is at The Table? In my end-of-life studies, I had an assignment designed to bring presence to the idea of my own end of life. That assignment resonated with me and prompted me to consider why we travel near and far to honor a loved one’s life only after their death, rather than have a living occasion when there is the chance to speak our truth and love, live, and bein person. There are scenarios where this idea won’t work, of course, but if blessed with bonus hours, that is exactly what I want to do. Hit the Reply box below if you want to know more.

The Gatekeeper’s Perspective
Legacy work is not about ego; it is about love. It is the act of leaving the light on for those who are still walking the path. By tending to these stories now, we transform ‘Grand Transition’ into a shared experience of honoring a life well-lived, using written words, cherished pictures, lifebooks, art collages, audio recordings, or video messages to tell a complete story and pass on the wisdomyou procured along the way.

If the idea of having your legacy ready to pass along appeals to you, but you are not sure where to start. You do not need to have a terminal diagnosis to consult a doula. We all face the end of life at some time or another. Please feel welcome to hit that reply box below, and we will be happy to connect with you.

With warmth, compassion, and eagerness to meet you exactly where you are on the timeline,

Carolynn

Unity, Forgiveness, and Love in the Bonus Hours

Hello dear ones,

The bonus hours can be transformative. It is in the bonus hours that much heart-work happens and has the power to uplift those both sides of the bedrail. Apologies, forgiveness, legacy, and peace of mind can play a transcendent role in death unburdened, as well as in lives lifted of regret for those who stay behind.

We can hold onto grief and grudge into our end time, but we don’t have to. Release from the weight of white-knuckle emotions, within a lifetime, lets more light in and creates space ripe for joy. To my mind, it is infinitely better to live in joy and light .

There is more on this topic that follows.


In our journey through the “Mid Space,” we often find that the most profound work isn’t found in logistics, but in the activity happening in the heart. When we are granted the grace of “bonus hours”—that sacred window between a terminal diagnosis and the final transition—we are given a unique opportunity to clear the emotional landscape.

Unity: Dissolving Friction in the Light of Peace As a Doula and a gatekeeper, I have witnessed how the nearing of death can act as a powerful catalyst for unity. In these hours, the grievances and long-standing family frictions that once felt insurmountable often begin to bow to a singular, higher purpose: peace. By focusing on the sanctuary of the dying person, we allow the collective energy of the room to shift from discord to a shared, steady frequency of support.

Forgiveness: Unburdening the Soul Forgiveness is perhaps the most vital piece of “Legacy Work.” To untether from this earthly form without weight, the soul often seeks to settle its accounts. This isn’t only about apologies; it is about clearing the emotional threshold. Whether it is self-forgiveness or the release of old wounds with others, this process ensures that the transition is one of lightness rather than a struggle against the gravity of regret and unresolved issues.

Unconditional Love: The Silent Witness During the inward retreat, when a loved one begins to pull away from the outside world, our role shifts to one of pure, non-judgmental presence. This is unconditional love in its most distilled form, offering a steady, loving frequency of grace and presence is a precious parting gift. We are there not to “fix,” but to bear witness to the body’s innate wisdom as it prepares for the ultimate transition.

The Invitation This work is the core of the Soul at Heart Manifesto. We believe that these final labors are a love brought full circle. By holding space with unity and grace, we honor the soul’s departure with the same sacredness we once used to honor its arrival.

The Soul at Heart Manifesto

We believe that the final labor of a human life is a sacred transition that deserves a sanctuary of protection. As Gatekeepers, we commit to:
– Unity: Holding a space where family friction bows to the singular purpose of peace.
– Forgiveness: Clearing the emotional threshold so the soul may untether without weight.
– Unconditional Love: Offering a non-judgmental witness to the body’s inward retreat.
The Vigil is not a medical event; it is a love brought full circle.


If this idea resonates with you, I invite you to share your stories of what happens in the bonus hours. How have you seen forgiveness or unity transform a final transition? Shared experiences strengthen us all as we navigate these sacred thresholds together.

With love, compassion, and comfort,

Carolynn

Transition and Transcendence: A Time for Peace and Unity

I think a lot about this work that we do as doulas and the sacredness of simply holding space and bearing witness and affirmation as another soul labors out of this life–their soul set free from earthly body. If we are very lucky and gifted with the grace of time between the terminal diagnosis and active dying of a loved one, we can celebrate the life lived and find peace of mind in those “bonus hours,” days, and weeks.

In my personal experience, the gift of bonus hours changed my perception of how the time approaching death can be experienced on both sides of the bedrail. I have seen it work its “magic” time and again in my deathwork too.


In our last conversation, we sat together in the bonus hours—that sacred, often unexpected window of time between a diagnosis and the final transition. We talked about the power of Legacy Work, from transcribing ‘Lasting Words’ to the quiet healing found in an ‘Ethical Will.’ We also explored the Doula’s role as a Gatekeeper, a gentle but firm protector of a loved one’s energy, ensuring that their sanctuary remains a place of peace rather than a revolving door of logistics.

But what happens when the bonus hours end, and the body begins its final, rhythmic retreat? For many, this is where the silence becomes heavy and the waiting turns into wondering. In this post, we step into the Active Dying phase. It is a time that requires a different kind of sight—a ‘Doula’s Wisdom’ if you will—to recognize the body’s subtle language. Today, we’ll discuss how to navigate these final physical hours not with fear, but with a steady, informed presence that honors the soul’s departure as much as we honored its arrival and its journey.”

The Shift

In the beginning, Doula work is about doing (paperwork, cleaning, advocating). In the Middle Space, it shifts to being. We are holding space for the person to exist as themselves—not as a patient, not as a tragedy, but as a human being with a story that is still being written.

Vigil Planning

It remains important to continue to use this period, before active dying begins, to put pieces in place for the things to come. I am a planner and I have the added blessing of having a pretty clear idea of how the dying process will unfold. It is my process to have the answers to the to some questions not only written down, but also pre-arranged. I have seen this strategy lend itself to actuating a calm and peaceful environment repeatedly. No guesswork involved much more focused time for a client and their family to say their farewells unhurriedly. My list of things to know includes:

  • If the room were to be silent, would you enjoy music to be playing sloftly? Or would nature sounds or the laughter of children playing outside be more comforting?
  • Would you like a visit or visits from a faith leader?
  • Do you have a favorite nightgown or quilt you want to be wearing and wrapped in?
  • Do you want the windows open or closed?
  • Who do you want at your bedside? Who do you not want in the room?
  • Where do you want your pets to be? (We encourage companion animals to be allowed into the room as similarly as they are accustomed to being under regular circumstances. Animals understand death. Without the opportunity to process the senses of death, they can experience the senses of loss as abandonment instead.)

From here, we are more prepared for the transition. Recognizing the signs of active dying and how the Doula supports the family through the final hours of the physical journey.

The following is a list of transitions in the active dying process, some may be more subtle than others. The gentle progression of these transistions are merely medical markers. They are the cues for us to tighten the circle, dim the lights, and begin the sacred task of witnessing the untethering–the body’s innate wisdom of letting go:

  • The Inward Retreat: Leading up to this time, you may have observed a definitive lack of appetite and thirst. This is completely normal. The body no longer needs sustenance for its earthly form. Insisting on feeding tubes and IV hydration at this time only serves to comfort those in the surroundings. We recommend letting the body follow the natural path it knows instinctively–food and water are for the living world.
  • At this time, you will likely notice a profound withdrawal from the outside world. This is not a loss of feeling, but a shift in focus. The soul is beginning to untether from earthly concerns, preferring silence, dimmed lights, and the presence of only one or two “anchor” people.
  • RE-patterning of Breath: Breathing begins to tell its own story. It may become very slow, with long pauses or take on a rhythmic, “ebbing and flowing” quality. This is the body finding its own pace for the journey, often more distressing to the witness than to the one traveling.
  • The Coolness of the Journey: As the heart focuses its remaining energy on the vital core, the hands and feet may become cool to the touch or take on a mottled, purplish hue. Think of this as the body gently gathering its warmth inward to protect the spirit’s transition.
  • “Vigil Sleep”: This is a transition into a deep, non-responsive sleep. While they may no longer speak or open their eyes, the sense of hearing is often the last to fade. This is the time for “heart-speak”—whispering gratitude, giving permission, and simply being a steady, loving frequency in the room.
  • The Final Release: The muscles of the throat and face relax completely. The breathing may become shallow and “sigh-like” until it eventually stops. This is the moment the Doula calls the Grand Transition—the physical container has finished its work, and the soul is set free.

Throughout this process, the EOL doula provides the bedside vigil if that is what is wanted or needed. If there are others at the bedside, your doula will offer comfort care all around and will be a continuing source of reassurance, knowledge, and understanding for grieving.

In closing, I share my Gatekeepers Manifesto. In my next post a few days from now, I will share more about the topics of unity, forgiveness, and unconditional love from the perspective of nearing death.

The Soul at Heart Manifesto

We believe that the final labor of a human life is a sacred transition that deserves a sanctuary of protection. As Gatekeepers, we commit to:
– Unity: Holding a space where family friction bows to the singular purpose of peace.
– Forgiveness: Clearing the emotional threshold so the soul may untether without weight.
– Unconditional Love: Offering a non-judgmental witness to the body’s inward retreat.
The Vigil is not a medical event; it is a love brought full circle.

If you are navigating these hours right now and feel overwhelmed, reach out. You do not have to hold this space alone.”


Thank you for reading. I invite you to share your stories. We are made stronger and more unified as humans on this planet when we offer the blessings of shared experiences. End-of-life moments can hold some of our most treasured memories and lasting feelings of love and fulfillment. I would love to hear your stories.

With love, compassion, and comfort for those bearing witness to life’s labor out today,

Carolynn