filling my bucket

When it’s over, I want to say: all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.

When it is over, I don’t want to wonder
if I have made of my life something particular, and real.
I don’t want to find myself sighing and frightened,
or full of argument.

I don’t want to end up simply having visited this world.

~Mary Oliver

The older I get, the more I realize how important it is to “fill my bucket”–not simply wait for Life to come to me, but rather to find her, appreciate her and love her each and every day.buckets

I will admit that I am selfish about my bucket.  I want it half full instead of half empty.  I want it filled with treasures that remind me of a life well-lived.  I don’t want things like regret or work or fear to create holes that drain my bucket of its richness.

I refuse to settle for filling my bucket once a month or once a year and carry it around trying to sustain my soul with a handful of memories.  I want to be alive and inspired every day.

And when I share my bucket, I want people to smile and marvel in wonder and touched by its light.

 

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