Learn tai-chi.
Go on a one-year birding trip.
My friend Tatsuda told me
I should make a list
of fifty things I want to do.
She mentioned this because we’re
getting older, and, besides,
she has a friend with prostate cancer.
He’s an engineer who only
came up with twelve items.
Build a Habitat house; visit France.
Practice yoga; learn a language.
At first I was reluctant.
Too technique-y. Afraid of failure;
of success. Would I have to do each
thing perfectly, the first time?
Learn to fly an airplane; read history; visit the Galapagos.
Read the Koran; own a Harley; visit Cold Mountain in China.
I started.
Just to humor Tatsuda.
Now I can’t stop. So what
if I never do most of them?
Measure this man by his intentions,
not just his deeds.
Study natural history; make love with an opium suppository; kayak; get a dog.
See a Broadway play; hike the Southwest deserts; own a hybrid car; die consciously.
I was having a hard time getting going on the list of 50 items. And then, a couple of weeks later, I was at a week-long zen retreat. After 3 or 4 days of silence, the initial list of 50 poured out in 10 minutes. Ah, the value of silence!
