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 This isn’t about giving up; it’s about shaping our lives, shedding the weight of outdated dreams, physical clutter, and even identities that no longer fit.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
