Mortality, Bucket Lists, and Perfect Weeks

The start of this year has been a time of medical procedures for me. Mainly this has been a coincidence of timing, with regular check-ups happening to fall in the same window as some self-initiated projects such as investigating hearing aids. Still, the combined effect has been to remind myself of my mortality. Every appointment or procedure has a small chance of leading to very bad news, and this tends to get into my head.

Mainly this sort of thought is rather unwelcome, but it does have some benefits. We are often reminded to live every day as if it is our last, or similar sound guidance, but we don’t often take time to really reflect on what these things imply, still less to actually do anything about it. A long spell of thoughts of mortality helps to focus the mind on what actions might be practical.

The most common outcome of such processes seems to be the production of bucket lists. I am a bit suspicious of these, partly because their existence is such a boon to commercial interests like the travel industry. It also chimes with that other trend, that of non-stop photography, instagram, and the like. But are we all seeking after fleeting highlights rather than anything more meaningful?

I think back to our visit to Machu Picchu, a staple of bucket lists. I am glad we went; the site was spectacular. But my fondness for that trip is much wider than the couple of hours peering at some ruins through clouds. It was a good week of family bonding, the Lima vibe and cuisine were great, and I also loved Cusco.

I suspect that listing bucket list experiences might miss the point. I guess I would like to see the Northern Lights. But I have seen many firework festivals and recall none of them, only instead some of their family contexts, and I am not sure about spending a fortune to spend a whole month in freezing cold places with little daylight and less to do in the hope that the Northern Lights might make a fleeting appearance that I can take pictures of.

Another one might be bird watching in the rain forest. Well actually I did that last week, on Tobago. After the second hour of trudging through mud with occasional sightings of birds that might have been rare and colourful but were still just birds, most of us would have sacrificed the remainder of the tour for a good cup of coffee. I was glad to have done it, but I wouldn’t go so far as to call it a life highlight.

But last week I think I stumbled upon a better approach, at least for me. The week on Tobago was a dream. It was a music week, where a group of us paid to be coached as a scratch choir by a top conductor. The location was as unspoiled as could be imagined, with no shops, a few restaurants and empty beaches. A typical day started with a two minute walk to an ocean swim then continued with breakfast, singing, coffee, more singing, lunch, siesta, sunbathe, swim, read, more singing, dinner and drinking. I turned off my mobile phone and just spent ten minutes per day on my laptop on news and e-mails. The company was excellent, full of interesting people. The music director became a close friend. Most importantly, I went with my wife, and we enjoyed hours and hours of relaxed time together.

Of course, the singing would not be for everyone. Some might have preferred a bit more development, maybe a few shops or at least a more reliable water supply. I found the temperature ideal, but it might be a bit warm for some.

But this is the point. We would all conceive a different perfect week, but I managed to find one that worked for me, and it is repeatable and even somewhat affordable. I discovered my perfect week by experiencing it, but it would not have been beyond my imagination to construct it in my mind and then make it happen.

I suggest this is a good exercise, more valuable than creating a bucket list. Then I suggest repeating it for different time periods. Maybe the bucket list could be converted into a series of perfect days. But what would comprise a perfect month, or a perfect year?

My perfect month would involve more singing and more quality time with my wife, but I would add some gentle travel, perhaps around the Spanish cathedral cities or Italian renaissance museums. More variety of cuisine would be built in – every evening meal on Tobago was lovely, but they were all more or less the same. Maybe the reading for the month would have an educational element related to the travel.

As we extend the time horizon outwards, I would have to include some regular volunteering, plenty of time with kids, especially my own, watching some live sports, and some singing projects looking for top quality performances.

Only having set down these goals in the form of perfect time periods comes the time to consider consequences and constraints. Some are obvious, notably money. Some emerge once ideas are thought through: a fifteen city European tour sounds great, until you consider the time spent in traffic snarls, security lines, or tossing and turning in unfamiliar beds. But there are others too: opportunity costs, clashing commitments, duties, and health outcomes. It may be OK to have a dream week stuffing cakes down your throat, but any longer than that might start limiting healthy life expectancy. 

But the most important consideration is relationships, notably family and especially life partner relationships. What if your dream month looks very different to that of your partner? Well, it probably will. And, like everything else in a good marriage, compromises can result. In my dream week, I know I will have to upgrade the hotel and maybe choose somewhere less warm as well.

There are so many benefits to this approach. Perhaps the most important one is the opportunity for dialogue within a partnership. Too often we just live out our lives, taking easy options, making assumptions about what others want, and then complaining afterwards. To borrow from a business idea, the urgent consumes the important. But if we are thoughtful and open about what would be ideal for each of us, that gives a great starting point. Then you can chip away at differences, as well as other annoying factors like cash and jobs and family commitments and health. The discussion can also help to shape thoughts about major life choices.

The obvious time to do this exercise is close to retirement, at a point where a major time constraint might be disappearing. It can also help to take away some of the fear of retirement. But there is every reason to carry out the exercise every few years or so at any stage of life, and whether or not you are in a life partnership.

I struck the jackpot with my week on Tobago, and can pray for many repeats, if I am right that my wife enjoyed it nearly as much as I did. We can also look forward to some wonderful months and years, duly budgeted and compromised so as to be a bit less than perfect but still great. Just the anticipation of such things is a wonderful gift.

Of course, all of this comes with the caveat of God willing, as all these medical procedures have reminded me. But that should only encourage us to dream, as at least then we have a fighting chance of realising those dreams, putting us ahead of the many who don’t get around to it and then run out of time. My advice for today is not to be one of those people. Get dreaming.