I’ve had a bit of fun delving into my inner self to figure out what I want to do with my life. Not that death is just around the corner. Partly it is to give me a sense of purpose, partly just out of interest. I’ve surprised myself.
I’m writing it from the perspective of the me that started university, at the point that I started to know myself for the first time.
Which means I can put a few things on here that I’ve already done, so I can feel good about myself as I tick a few things off.
Here we go.
- Get a degree. DONE
- Get a job. DONE
- Get married. DONE
- Own a house. I kind of do, but there is a whacking great mortgage to go with it, so that doesn’t really count.
- Have children. DONE
- Read the Bible and the Koran. DONE
- Accidentally slip on a banana skin. DONE Was a difficult one to achieve, ‘cause you can’t do it deliberately. Happened outside Euston station one night on the way home from work. How I chuckled. Says something that it was the homeless that came to see if I was alright, even if they did ask for change when they saw I was fine.
- Write a book.
- Get a book published. Makes sense at the moment – might need to revise that one in the digital age.
- Make a leap of faith. I.e. Find God or decide He’s not there.
- Have a photo of a miniature I’ve painted printed in a magazine. Yes, I still hold on to that obsession from when I was a spotty teenager.
- Play a musical instrument, probably a violin.
- Speak another language fluently. Climate change jargon doesn’t count.
- Live in an idyllic house in the country where we can live off-grid.
- Write a list of 100 things to do before I die. This is hard.
- Catch a thermal under a hang-glider. To date, I’ve only ever managed short flights or ridge soaring with ropes attached to the wing tips.
- Parachute jump. How I’m going to get up there without a plane I have no idea.
- Travel round the world. Without flying, of course.
- Ride a bike with no hands. I don’t mean the bike has no hands, I mean I haven’t got mine on the handlebars. Of course. Obvious.
- Run a marathon. DONE Fantastic experience.
- Swim a length under water.
- Get pecs.
- Go to a celebrity party. Why on earth? Shallow.
- Get a scientific paper published in a reputable journal.
- Patent an invention.
- Start a business (not a stupid one – see http://www.onlinetaskmanagement.com). DONE
- Sell a business.
- Cook a really good roast with roast potatoes like my Mum used to makes. She still does.
- Win the treble on Championship Manager. DONE Did it with Cardiff in the middle of the nights while looking after Maddie when she was a baby.
- Achieve Enlightenment.
- Reach 100 with full use of my faculties.
- Keep chickens.
- Become a doctor. Non-medical, I’m assuming.
- Get some sort of award, like a MBE.
- Make a will.
- Appear in a blockbuster film. As an extra is fine.
- Hit a 180. DONE
- Become my own boss. DONE
- Make a pot using a turntable.
- Walk up Ben Nevis.
- Walk up Snowdon. DONE
- Ascend Snowdon via Crib Goch. Tried it once but left it much too late, and my brother was in a cast, so we sensibly turned back.
- Learn how to chop food really fast like a chef.
- Bake a moist, tasty fruit cake. Maybe a Christmas cake.
- Make a timelapse animation. Like Morph.
- Truly realise I don’t need to do any of these things. Not just say so.
- Walk my daughters down the aisle. If that’s what they want to do.
I’ll give it a rest there. I need to leave room for a future me to think up a few more things.
And then I found an old list I wrote a couple of years ago, where I’d only got to number 26. But it did contain some other things that aren’t in the list above:
- Finish The Hobit BBC microcomputer game. I am tempted to take this off the list, but can’t bring myself to do it. How do you get past those pesky elves?
- Read the full works of Shakespear.
- Live in a house with a fireplace.
- Learn how to plumb.
- Learn how to do electrics.
- Go to the Globe theatre.
- Show a painting or picture in a gallery.
Which leads me to think of a few other things:
- Learn how to work with wood.
- Learn how to survive in the wilderness.
- Teach my son some practically useful skills.
- Why not? Teach my daughters some practically useful skills. Like how to cook. Only kidding.
- This one just in. Thank you Trevor. Tell my son, in no uncertain terms, that he is a man, at the point that he becomes a man.