On completing my bucket list

I'm not sure whether this term is used outside the UK, but here a "bucket list" is all the major things you hope to achieve during your mortal life. The term has become something of a cliché, and it's starting to take on an ironic edge, as in: "I'm not eating that under-cooked steak -- getting dysentery isn't on my bucket list." I'm not sure whether dividing life into a sequence of goals is even particularly healthy, Nevertheless, for most of my adult life I've had such a list, formally or informally.

When I was sixteen, my bucket list had only one item, which was:

1: Find some way to have regular sex

It would be some years before I was able to tick that one off but, by that time, my list had already grown to several hundred items. To preserve what little remained of my sanity, I decided early that I wasn't going to be able to achieve any really ambitious, worthy goals. I knew I wasn't going to go into space, or discover a cure for cancer, or bring about world peace.

I also decided there was no point listing as goals things that were broadly necessary for survival, like "get a job" or "find somewhere to live". I only put on my bucket list ambitions that were beyond the quotidian humdrum of everyday life, and which I thought I might actually stand some chance of achieving.

So, because they were relatively modest, many of my bucket list items turned out to be relatively straightforward to complete, requiring nothing more than time or money. For example:

43: Cross the Arctic Circle by boat

75: Learn to fly a plane

99: See bears in the wild

221: Read Virgil's Aeneid in the original Latin

233: Publish a book that other people will actually buy

Some were more challenging because they required actual dedication, like:

3: Perform adequately in some competitive sport

To be honest, I've only been able to tick this one off by applying a fairly generous interpretation of the word "adequately". And also of "sport".

By the time I was thirty, my bucket list contained several hundred items, and I'd already ticked off about half of them. By the time I was fifty, there were nearly a thousand items on my list, and all but a handful were complete.

To be fair, some of the items on my bucket list only got completed by chance, and in the most technical sense. For example:

87: Own a private island

It's been very hot this summer, with no significant rainfall, so my pond has dried out to the extent that there are actually discrete islands within it. They're only large enough for one person to stand on, and even then only in rubber Wellington boots; nevertheless, any land I can stand on that's completely surrounded by water is an island. Or so I've convinced myself.

Now, I say all this because, all being well, touch wood, inshallah, I will soon be ticking off the very last incomplete item on my bucket list:

132: Live long enough to become a grandfather

I became a father relatively late in life; I assumed my children would follow my example, and I wouldn't live to see any children they might have. But, as it turns out, one of my offspring has decided to buck the trend, and grandchild #1 is due in a couple of weeks.

When this happy event occurs, I will finally have completed my bucket list, every item neatly ticked off.

That doesn't mean I have nothing more to do in this life: everyday life brings its own challenges and rewards. I'll still have to make plans as I always have. What I don't have, though, are any outstanding, major goals to work towards.

It's a strange feeling, knowing that I've achieved all my (realistic) ambitions. If I'm run over by a truck tomorrow, I'll have no reason to complain that I died with my potential unfulfilled. My potential has been actualized. I am, in a sense, complete.

Of course, I could always dream up new items for my bucket list. There are many things in my "it would be nice to..." category. It would be nice to say I've read the complete works of Charles Dickens, but I know I'm going to get stuck on Our Mutual Friend. Again. It would be nice to be able to play Terrega's Recuerdos de la Alhambra on the guitar, but I'm not sure I want to commit the next twenty years to developing the necessary skill. While there are things I'd like to do, and hope to do, nothing now strikes me as a goal, an ambition I feel drawn to.

Perhaps I should revisit my unrealistic ambitions, the ones that never made it onto my bucket list in the first place. After all, if William Shatner went into space at age ninety, so there's no reason in principle why I couldn't do the same. I just need to make millions of dollars and become a celebrity. Following Shatner's example, I still have twenty-odd years to achieve this.

Or perhaps I should revisit finding that cure for cancer, which is a bit less improbable than my becoming a rich celebrity.

No. Of all my unachievable, unrealistic goals, the one I'd most like to complete is probably the most intractable:

1000: Find out what life is all about, before it's out

Published 2026-08-12, updated 2026-08-12

On completing my bucket list

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