Do you have a bucket list?

I mean like an actual list that you’ve written down, a place where you’ve captured all of the amazing things you desire to do, see, experience, have, and be while the blood pumps through your veins?

I don’t. I’ve never taken the time to actually sit down and write one out, and the idea has never seemed to be something that would be worthy of my time.

My life, my path, my journey, has always taken me to places that I would not and could not have predicted, and I’ve been amazed by the surprising twists and turns that fate and destiny have thrown my way as I’ve bumbled about in this life trying only to know and love and make use of myself more thoroughly.

Growing up in a small town in southern California, I never thought I’d live in San Francisco, a big big city; I moved there at age 16 with my mom and ended up living there for three years.

Then, I’d never considered Boston as a place I’d want to go, and spent nine years living and learning and growing there as a musician and human being.

Music school. Austin, Texas. Mexico. Guatemala. Australia. Germany. Alaska.

None of these places had ever been alive in my imagination as places I wanted to go - and yet, I graduated from the most renown contemporary music school on the planet and have visited, lived, and spent good chunks of time in each of these and other places.

Now - one thing that I absolutely DID dream of doing for many years was living as a nomad in a dwelling on wheels.

Initially I wanted a VW bus, with the dreadlocks, and the tie-dye, and the incense, and all of that stuff; and I didn't do it, I didn't do it, and didn't do it, and I kept telling myself "if I were going to do that, I would've done it already..."

Just out of curiosity, does that sound at all familiar?

How many of your dreams are on pause in this way?

Just checking. I digress.

In 2010 as I was sharing with a friend and mentor this desire of mine to live as a nomad, he shared with me that he had already been there and helped me find a vehicle.

I became the proud owner and ecstatic resident of a 1986 Chevy G30 box van that I lived in for 2 1/2 years, mostly in and around Austin, Texas, but also throughout the southwestern United States.

I loved living on the road. That kind of freedom feels so good! Waking up in places that are new every morning, having time and space to stop off at this river and camp there for a couple days; being able to go and visit different towns and be with people and then retreat into my own little shell...

It's the best. It's the best life ever.

And one day, I’ll own a Sprinter van plushed out for maximum comfort and technological productivity - satellite internet, on-board studio for podcasting and making videos, and plenty of space for road-cooked meals, surfing gear, and entertaining friends along the way.

But I don’t keep a list of things I want to do before I die. I find life’s surprises to be far more satisfying than checking off boxes.

For instance, right now I’m doing something else that I didn’t plan or scheme or plot a pathway to: I'm growing a garden, I'm raising chickens, and I'm maintaining the daily operations of a household of three plus the occasional seasonal visitor.

I shoulder most of the cooking, I keep things relatively clean, I fix broken things, I make upgrades...

...This year, I helped build out a Tuff Shed into an office/studio space, where I produced the audio for this message...

This was never in my life’s plan - at least as far as I knew consciously.

Especially during those nomad years, I couldn’t imagine being happy or satisfied in one place for any stretch of time beyond a week or two.

Surprise! I’ve been here over a year now, and I’m more happy, content, alive, creative, peaceful, loving, and inspired than ever before.

Now - you may be asking what does any of this have to do with you being on my Bucket List, that I'm saying I don't even have?

Here’s what I mean:

I started an email list back in 2002, right around the time I was graduating from Berklee College of Music and began playing my original songs in Boston’s coffeehouses, bars, and subway stations. It was a way to keep contact with folks who enjoyed the music and wanted to hear and know more.

Along the way, I discovered that writing to the list was an extraordinary way to communicate the realness of who I am beyond the moments when I am singing, and to share my life's lessons; like keeping a pen-pal relationship with hundreds, and then over a thousand, folks at the same time.

I wrote intermittently, sometimes going for months without sending an email, mostly out of laziness, but sometimes because I couldn’t straighten out for myself what I wanted to write about, and I didn’t think anyone would be interested unless I had some flashy sparkly thing I wanted them to see.

For twelve years I carried on like this, until finally I stopped writing altogether because I wasn’t actually writing in a spirit of service - I was writing because I was lonely, because I wanted attention, because I had some event or product I wanted to promote, and none of it had any real generosity to it.

After two years of no writing, spending time in my garden, cooking and cleaning and serving and breathing, I now see that this voice, this desire to communicate what I’m learning as a human being living a human life, and I see that this medium has value as an offering that I make without personal concern.

That is why I say you are on my Bucket List. At least, if you want to be.

I am crystal-clear that what I have to say can shed light on our human condition, and if you’re reading this, you can feel the truth in this at least to some degree.

I won’t always write daily; I believe that it’s actually okay to be somewhat erratic in my patterns of sharing - and perhaps this permission to not operate like clockwork, along with your engagement and response, will create a condition of more regular communication.

I’m open to see what rhythms arise.

For this eleven-day stretch, however, I am daily celebrating five years of learning, growing, and living into the vision that I have seen for myself since I was a small child - being someone whose voice reaches and touches and moves and inspires others to live fully and enjoy fully this experience of being human.

That is the essence of my "bucket list".

After November 11th, we’ll see where this goes. For now, I’m simply sharing what is in my heart to share as I contemplate the last five years and the stage that has been set for the next five, ten, twenty...

But I don’t have a bucket list for any of that. Any of those details; it's really none of my business.

I only have a bucket list for those who wish to be along for the ride.

And you must be the one to select yourself for inclusion; I cannot presume to have your attention or permission beyond even this one email.

So to participate in the next unfolding beyond November 11th, click the button below and enter your name and email address to be added to my Bucket List.

I don't imagine that I'll send any more than one message a week, and I really like this audioblog format, so there may be more of those to come.

Basically, saying yes to the Bucket List is saying yes to this voice, its message of aliveness, and our relationship moving forward into the future.

I'm so grateful for your listening. I'll see you tomorrow - and we'll talk about gardens.

Shawn