We incorporated the Tipping Bucket as an official non-profit in UT sometime around 10pm this Wednesday. I didn’t actually even realize I had another check mark to add to the list until my sister Molly congratulated me on crossing another one off. Several reflections on this:
First, and rather simply, how grateful I am for people who keep me in touch with my dreams!
Second, and slightly less simply, how important it is to be patient with dreams. Now, in now way am I qualified to extolling the virtues of patience. But there was a little lesson in this experience for me. See, I started the list–wrote the first 60+ items–as a gawkish 13-year-old in Mr. Maddox’s 8th grade science class. I’d capped it off at 100 before high-school graduation.
I haven’t the slightest idea how I’m going to accomplish most of the items on my list (reading all the Caldecott, Newbury and Pulitzer prize-winning works since 1900, for instance). But that’s never bothered me.
Far more vexing have been the times I’ve been tempted to “revise” my dreams. See, I no longer wish to have anything to do with purebred Persian cats (#4) nor do I particularly relish the idea of #52 (Watch all the Star Wars movies in order) after literally plugging my ears through the last half of episode 3 so as to be spared any more of the tortured dialogue.
I even vowed a few years back, not in any kind of a fit or rage but after careful consideration of the sad state of poor communication, duplicated effort and expenses, diffused resources and disappointing impact in the non-profit world, that I would never start a non-profit. I was not going to contribute to that fragmented, inefficient mess. I would simply find an organization I could wholeheartedly support and, well, throw my whole heart into it.
Still, I couldn’t quite bring myself to take #75 off the list. And (obviously) my opinions have changed.
I’m not saying that dreams can’t or shouldn’t change. Nor am I saying that what you wanted as a lanky (or lumpy) adolescent is always the best course for your life. I am saying “hold off taking that crazy #39…or 14… or 87 off the list.” The story isn’t over.
I’ll find a way to “run” that marathon yet.