It is my 6th wedding anniversary.
Every year, my wife and I make a list of all of the memorable things
that have happened since our last anniversary. It sounds hokey, and I
guess it is a bit. We sit down after our meal on the night of our
anniversary and we usually come up with 20 to 30 things that just roll
right out of our heads. We don’t write down the stories of those moments. We don’t explain
each one to each other. We simply write down a few words that are
enough to represent the moment to us. This year we wrote things down like Zac, Vampire Weekend, and Tobias’
first sentence. With each of them, we visualize the great
contributions that they have had in our lives over the last year. And
that is why lists matter. They don’t have to be profound, although they can be. They don’t have to be long, although that is sometimes the case. They don’t have to be well written, even if they do have a haiku like quality. They just have to have meaning. And in a world so filled with confusion and disorder, each list I
create and each year that it represents is one place that I feel less
confused and more at peace with all that has happened. The lists are meant to put to paper the things that we take away from
struggle and pain. They are the ways in which we find closure to open
wounds. The lists are a way to find our own small piece of elusive
truth. And it feels great each time. I hope we never stop listing, and I hope
we never stop doing things worthy of the list.
that have happened since our last anniversary. It sounds hokey, and I
guess it is a bit. We sit down after our meal on the night of our
anniversary and we usually come up with 20 to 30 things that just roll
right out of our heads. We don’t write down the stories of those moments. We don’t explain
each one to each other. We simply write down a few words that are
enough to represent the moment to us. This year we wrote things down like Zac, Vampire Weekend, and Tobias’
first sentence. With each of them, we visualize the great
contributions that they have had in our lives over the last year. And
that is why lists matter. They don’t have to be profound, although they can be. They don’t have to be long, although that is sometimes the case. They don’t have to be well written, even if they do have a haiku like quality. They just have to have meaning. And in a world so filled with confusion and disorder, each list I
create and each year that it represents is one place that I feel less
confused and more at peace with all that has happened. The lists are meant to put to paper the things that we take away from
struggle and pain. They are the ways in which we find closure to open
wounds. The lists are a way to find our own small piece of elusive
truth. And it feels great each time. I hope we never stop listing, and I hope
we never stop doing things worthy of the list.
