Burning the list

I spent this weekend trying to come up with an arbitrary list of 40 life goals to achieve before I turn 40.

I wasn’t successful.

A list of goals is meaningless. There is no value. I won’t be the same person in a year, let alone six. Everything left unfulfilled by the time I turn 40 will feel like a failure, even if I decide to cut it from the list.

I keep coming back to a beautiful line from Passion of the Nerd’s Wild at Heart essay.

But life articulated falls somewhere on a spectrum between pull tab to open, and poetry.

I don’t want to spend my life marking items from my to-do list.

I want to live it.