While I’m Living…

There are “bucket lists,” which as lists, begin to already feel like  ‘to dos’ that are long and, potentially, over-reaching. I’ve got plenty to check off on my everyday necessities, let alone set the bar to bungee jump, deep-sea dive, and ride shotgun on a motorcycle cross-country, all the while, the pressure of my life clock a-ticking.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m a list lover. But a bucket list feels like way too much pressure for the overachiever in me.

So, the concept of the Before I Die wall is appealing. A project I’m still learning about. But I can’t deny the immediate emotion felt when I saw the one-line dreams of hundreds of people, etched out in colored chalk.

photo by Trevor Coe
photo by Trevor Coe

The premise is simple, just fill in the blank: “Before I die I want to…”

Now, you. One line. Before you die, what?

Distilled down to only a few fundamental words, this exercise seems to wipe away the superfluous, keeping it real and potent. According to the project website, there are 425 of these walls in the world, where human beings can take a pause, grab chalk like a child, and spell out a simple dream. (More about the Before I Die project here.)

Always wanting to turn a phrase toward the positive, I ponder shifting the prompt to “While I’m living…”

In the bustle of our days, thoughts running amok, and those never-ending lists being checked, it’s nice to stop for a minute to ask ourselves a little something about why we’re breathing here.

This heart beat of ours that pumps, right now, buh-bump, buh-bump. What do we want to do with it?

I’d love to hear what comes to you.

While I’m living...

Under the Hood

A mechanic and two of his assistants arrive at the front door of my dream, somewhere between the snooze button and waking.

In the end, there was no issue with car except for some melting ice cream sandwiches in the back seat.

But there was that Black Hills gold ring I was gifted back in high school. The Bohemian pulled it from the jewelry box and showed the mechanic the broken, inlaid leaf.

The mechanic says we can see the artist that made the ring if we look closely at the underside. I use my camera at the macro setting and zoom to reveal the smallest sketching in the gold. A hidden, miniature world is revealed, detailing a palm tree, a man, and the name Bruce Piston.

We are grateful to the mechanic and friends for their assistance and pay them something for their time, happy it’s not a hefty repair bill. We walk them to the door and say goodbye.

I wake, turn off the snooze setting, and rise.

I think we should all know what drives us, but I’ll admit that I have to refresh my memory on exactly what a piston does beneath the hood.

If I understand correctly, it’s a shaft that exerts force inside a cylinder, which ultimately creates a combustion that powers the vehicle. Piston rings (hmmm…) are seals that keep the shaft and cylinder lubricated in their motion.

Melting ice cream sandwiches, a Black Hills gold ring, false alarm on a car repair, and the miniature world of a dreamtime artist named Bruce. These are the threads, loose and scattered, that have yet to be woven to any neat conclusion or meaning.

That can be the welcome relief of dreams. And I love it that way.

photo courtesy of Doctor Popular
photo courtesy of Doctor Popular