More Than a List: Finding Pride in What We’ve Built
When life feels uncertain, look back to move forward...
Sometimes I feel like I’m constantly trying to catch up.
Like there’s this invisible checklist of what makes a life count, and I’m always one step behind. I’ve spent years pushing forward, always looking ahead, always planning the next move. I guess that’s what happens when you’re told, early on, that your time might be shorter than most. You start feeling like you can’t waste a single moment.
But that mindset can be exhausting. There’s a pressure that builds up, a feeling that you’re never doing enough, no matter how much you’ve accomplished. It’s like running a race where the finish line keeps moving.
And I’m not going to lie, friends, this past week has been a hard one. I feel so-so stressed, for a number of reasons - not least, running for re-election. And on top of managing some gnarly health stuff. I’m not a crier- but for 2 whole days, anything would set me off. I cried on the mayor, i cried at my work boss, I sobbed down the phone to countless friends. I came in from leafletting, after being very-mildly assaulted by a random Reform guy - a broken gal. My mom was worried.
I’m a sensitive soul - and even though academically I know whatever the outcome is - *I* will be ok - I still can’t shake this feeling of dread - that feels entangled in stuff more than myself. And a failure? Of Letting people down.
So I went back to Gomde this weekend. It was like the universe had planned this trip - a month in advance - to align when I needed to go the most.
A place where I always feel lighter, somehow. It’s like stepping into the quiet of yourself.
It’s a place where you look up, searching for the blue sky, and realize you can be the blue sky—steady, expansive, even when clouds pass through. And we need those clouds—the rain, the storm… the life they bring.
It’s a reminder that lightness doesn’t mean the absence of struggle, but the ability to hold both. And after talking to Helen & Paulette, at some point this weekend whilst pushing my 4,000th leaflet through a letterbox - I just thought— I *know* that I have already done things that matter? And, What if I’m allowed to just be proud of what’s already happened? Can I give myself that peace?
Living with a life-limiting illness changes how you think about the future.
We’re so often told to write bucket lists—to fill our lives with experiences before it’s too late. But the reality is, sometimes just being here, just being present, feels like an achievement in itself. Sometimes just getting through the day is enough. It’s made me think differently about what I want to remember and what I want to celebrate.
The problem with bucket lists is that they promise infinity.
They make it seem like there’s always another chance, always another day to tick something off. But life doesn’t work like that. Sometimes, it’s just about surviving, about finding small pockets of joy in between the hard parts.
The truth is, the math of life doesn’t add up the way we think it should. We can’t tally our experiences like points on a scoreboard. Sometimes, the small, quiet moments matter more than the big plans.
That’s why I started thinking about a reverse bucket list.
Not a list of what I still want to do, but a list of what I’ve already done—things I’m proud of, things I survived, things I never thought I’d manage. It’s a way to remind myself that life isn’t just a series of unfinished tasks. It’s something I’ve been living all along.
And when I think about the local election coming up, I feel this mix of deep-anxiety but also a dose of pride. I care so deeply about my community—every project, every conversation, every small act of change. I’ve poured myself into this place and these people. The thought of things going in a different direction feels heavy, almost suffocating.
But then I remember something important: I’ve already done so much.
I’ve built things that didn’t exist before. I’ve shown up in ways that mattered. I’ve worked with people to create something tangible, something that made a difference.
Sometimes, it’s easy to get caught up in the worry of what’s next, of what might fall apart.
But what about everything that’s already come together?
I’ve created spaces that didn’t exist before.
From art projects to community initiatives, I’ve helped turn ideas into reality. I’ve seen young people find their voice and take pride in their contributions. We’ve made things together, laughed together, and found ways to express our stories & create new places and spaces to feel like WE belong.
I’ve made so many new awesome friendships that feel like home.
the kind of friendships where you can sit in silence and it’s still comfortable. where you can talk for hours and not notice time passing. where you feel seen, truly seen.
I’ve shown up, even when it was hard.
There have been days when fear and fatigue almost kept me home, but I didn’t let them. I stood with my community, whether in meetings, workshops, at their home, or public events. I’ve listened, shared, and fought for the things that matter. We saved countless assets - from libraries, to heritage spaces! We created new ones from maker spaces, pavilions and play spaces!
I’ve helped create joy.
From workshops to festivals, I’ve been part of moments where people smiled, felt seen, and shared stories. I’ve watched kids paint their dreams onto walls and listened as elders shared memories over cups of tea. Those moments are worth loads.
i’ve failed. and then tried again.
there were things i wanted that didn’t happen. ideas that didn’t work. 20,000 trees that burned in climate crisis heatwave wildfires, meetings that went sideways, grants we never got. plans that fell apart. but none of it broke me. i tried again. and again. and again.
i’ve created a life that feels like mine for the past 4 years.
i’ve not pretended to be a councillor who wears suits & just says things without solutions or offers of help. i didn’t follow someone else’s timeline—but i created one that is uniquely, fully mine.
This reverse bucket list isn’t about complacency or stopping here.
It’s my reminder about balance—acknowledging that life isn’t just a race toward the next goal. It’s about realizing that we’ve already created beautiful things and meaningful connections, even when it’s easy to forget in moments of doubt. Or when big change is coming.
So yes, I’m worried about the election. But I also know that whatever happens, the work I’ve done and the lives I’ve touched won’t just disappear.
My community and I have made something real, and that can’t be undone by any single outcome.
(Tho obvs the physical & positive things, with the wrong people, it could be)
Take a moment, too. Look back. You’ve done more than you give yourself credit for. You’ve created, survived, connected. Let that be enough for a moment. Let yourself be proud of where you are right now.
remind yourself: you have already lived through extraordinary things.
