Most mornings recently I’ve been doing morning pages. Before anything else (by which I mean: wake, brew coffee, do Wordle, then…) I open a notebook and uncap a pen and scratch out three pages of whatever comes through my scrawling hand.
One morning last week I wrote:
I have a list of eight things to write taped to my wall. And a list of twenty odd things to accomplish before lunch, before peace can wash over. I have a list of four things I’m meant to always be. I have a list of things that make for a perfect day, but not that make for a perfect life.
So later—I can’t remember if it was later that day or a day or two later—and I’m not saying that a perfect day or a perfect life are either of them achievable or, for that matter, desirable, but—I took out my bigger notebook and made a list of the things that, for me, would and do and will make for, colloquially speaking, a perfect life.
* Make meals and memories with loved ones.
* Help people experience life to the full.
* Walk paths near rivers and fields and in cities and forests.
* Paddle canoes. Tend fires. Sleep outdoors.
* Explore my lover’s body. Make love.
* Make children. Support their genius and joy.
* Plan, fund, and facilitate feasts and adventures for my family.
* Enjoy good stories in many forms.
* Grow old in wisdom and in good company.
* Pay attention. Write about it.
So, now I have that list too. Today I’ll tape it to the wall too. As a declaration, and a celebration. To help me remember, and stay the course. A cluster of actuality and aspiration.
What’s on your list?
