Bucket list.

I don't know if this was a subconscious topic that came about after the reflection of my last post, but today Becky and I were discussing things that we'd like to do with our lives and decided that we should make a bucket list. For those of you who don't know what a bucket list is, it is a comprehensive list of all the things that you'd like to do before you kick the bucket. Shuffle off your mortal coil, etc.

This got me to wondering, how many of the things that we want to do in our lives are in sync with the things other people want to do. For example, is their a fashionable trend of life-time goals? One of my life time goals has always been to see the Northern Lights, I know for a fact that at least one of my friends shares this ambition, and I imagine a lot of other people want to do that too.

The thing is as our world slowly grows smaller (metaphorically) the adventure is starting to be sucked out of living so people look for the next exciting thing to do. One hundred years ago, travelling to America would have been a massive deal, now it's more extreme to go to Australia or New Zealand. I wonder how long it will be before people begin to travel beyond our world realistically.

Just a thought.

Anyway, this is what this blog was always about - living life to the full and experiencing everything that we can. I think there is still a lot missing (mainly the less extreme stuff!) but this is the list that Becky and I formulated.

1. Visit Marrakech
2. See northern lights
3. See pyramids
4. Cross the equator
5. Visit all continents
6. Fly a plane
7. Build a house
8. Climb Kilimanjaro
9. Live in Canada
10. Trek the great wall
11. Machu Picchu
12. Fly first class on virgin atlantic
13. Orient express
14. Go caving in the salt caves mexico
15. Gamble in las vegas
16. Have a ride in a husky-drawn sleigh
17. Celebrate new years twice in japan and Hawaii
18. Stroke a wild penguin
19. Go white water rafting
20. Go Hogmanay with the family
21. Go to Lapland
22. Get married
23. Have kids
24. Hold a koala
25. Visit Sydney
26. Get a pet micro pig and duck
27. Build a guitar
28. Build a tree house
29. Go surfing in Hawaii
30. Climb Mauna loa volcano
31. Go New York for new years
32. Get a makeover by Gok
33. Go to a real irish pub
34. Tell a customer the truth
35. Learn another language
36. Go on holiday for a month
37. Go to a protest
38. Go to an oil spill site and clean cute animals
39. Do some graffiti
40. Go in an igloo
41. Get a samoyd
42. Go in a thermal pool
43. Row down the amazon
44. Own a lighthouse
45. Ride an elephant
46. Go berry picking in an orchard
47. Caribbean cruise
48. Go to the water festival in Thailand
49. Stay a night in the Burj al Arab
50. Shower in a waterfall

Let me know if you share any of these dreams!

Ginger.

It's strange how the smallest things can create such an affect, such a change of perspective in our lives.

Over the past two years I have been reminded on more than one occasion of our own mortality. There have been severely different triggers to this reminder. The burning of bridges is a strange way to realise that we might never see a person again, it also shares a significant likeness to death. Death has presented itself to me in the form of accidents from which I've been lucky to survive. And lastly, most obviously, death has been portrayed by death itself. My Nan passed away on the 11th of July this year.

All these moments prompt me to consider my own mortality and how I spend my time. I am aware that I rarely spend it wisely. I always know that I have something to be doing and that my list of things to do is ever-increasing.

Perhaps the strangest thing to inspire me to do more with my life is my goldfish, Ginger. My fiancee and I bought a pair of goldfish early last year. Cleo and Ginger. Original, we know.

The pair have suffered a rather arduous life, living with my fiancee and I; we've moved house four times and our busy schedule (and perhaps in part, laziness) has meant that their tank hasn't always been pristine.

The first sign of mortality Ginger gave me was when I found him (Yes, I'm assuming my goldfish is a boy), not long after we got them, floating upside down at the bottom of the tank, a stone lodged tightly in its mouth. The stupid thing had choked to death, I thought.

Upon closer inspection, I noticed the fish had a gut full of black stones, the same as was in it's mouth. Becky (my fiancee) and I mourned its death and prepared to fish it out for the flush. Never have I been so shaken up as when this dead fish, now in a stein, spat the stone out and jolted back to life. For the remainder of the day Ginger swam upside down. Becky and I were to visit her parents that night for the weekend. We assumed that although Ginger had narrowly avoided death, that it would die, if not because it was upside down but because it had a tummy full of stones that meant it kept sinking to the bottom. To ensure that Cleo didn't follow suit, we removed the stones from their tank.

On returning home at the end of the weekend, we found, much to our surprise, Ginger swimming happily around, the right way up. No sign of stones.

It surprised me that this little fish had dodged the bullet so narrowly and yet was back on top form, performing ballet around its tank with Cleo.

Earlier on this year, Becky and I packed our bags and went on a tremulous plane journey to the blistering heats of Sharm el Sheikh in the middle of June. It was only on our fifth day that it occurred to me suddenly that our fish were most certainly dead, because we hadn't arranged a way to feed them in our absence, not only this but it'd be another five days before we returned. Guiltily we resigned ourselves to the fact that we had killed Ginger and Cleo. Upon our return the fish swam happily (I assume they probably weren't happy, but I like to pretend) around a rather dirty tank. Through guilt I cleaned the tank immediately and fed them copiously.

On a rare occasion, Becky was cleaning out their tank (I say rare, because although they were originally her fish, I had been charged with feeding them and cleaning them), Ginger somehow managed to escape whilst being transported from the dirty water into the new clean water. This escape was ill-conceived, as the sink that it dove precariously into wasn't full of water. Panicking, Becky managed to recover the floundering fish and return it to the water, however she was terrified she might have shocked it to death. The fish, however, continued through its hardships.

It are these moments that have signified a passage through adversity and a struggle to overcome difficulty. More than that, Ginger has managed for all this time to escape death, even when floating dismally before death's door. Ginger has reminded me that no matter how small you are, nor how insignificant people might think you are, you have the ability to have an affect on the larger picture. You have the capacity to make someone laugh, or think, or take action.

Goldfish are such a simple creature, and therefore such a simple pleasure. They don't play with you, like a cat or a dog, they don't cuddle with you, you can't stroke them. They are there to look after and watch. And I guess if you watch carefully, you will begin to notice some elements of yourself in them. You may be insignificant in the grand scheme of things, but that doesn't mean your actions aren't unnoticed or have a lesser affect.

Yesterday, I cleaned out Cleo and Ginger's tank, I later returned to find Ginger floating on its side at the surface of the water. Nobody escapes death. But it's a question of what affect you leave on the world before you die. I used to look down on Goldfish as a pet, but as silly as t sounds, after Ginger, I can't say I'd ever look at anything in the same way.

R.I.P. Ginger, 19/11/11