The Three Memorable Things Rule

With the Christmas trees (or menorahs, if you swing that way) dismantled and the cookies bordering on stale, I have been thinking recently about makes a year "memorable". A couple of years ago Justin mused that he was scared of getting old, not for fear of gray hair (he probably won't have much anyway, so gray would be an improvement), but because he worried that once out of school and deep in the "humdrum" of life, the years would blend together. He worried that everyday life would lead to monotony and that monotony would lead to a life forgotten. Or worse: wasted.

Justin's was a sentiment to which I could relate. If you know me, you know that I have a very hard time sitting still and doing "nothing". Apart from possible neurological issues related to my self-diagnosed ADHD and/or anxiety disorder, I think that my restlessness is rooted deeply in an existential crisis. Put more simply, I fear death. Not the physical experience of death. No, that I actually fear very little. Rather, I fear, immensely in fact, leaving the earth without having made a mark and without having evolved into the person that I desire to be.

Justin's solution to his own fear of "forgettableness" was to make a rule (oh us and our rules - how we love structure!). Actually, maybe it could be called more of a challenge. Regardless, he set out to ensure that each year he had done or experienced three memorable things. One might call this the Three Memorable Things Rule. This sounds deceptively simple. Despite our relative youth and rather unstable life, Justin frequently has difficulty coming up with these Three Things each year. This is not because our lives are not full of chaos, but more so because Justin has many rules within his rule. For example, the Three Things cannot be more related to someone else than to him (e.g. celebrating Dylan's graduation will not count, but his own will) and they have to reflect some accomplishment. As you can see, this can lead to a decent amount of pressure come December.

Since Justin began talking about this practice, I have been very supportive of his endeavor. In line with both my personality and therapy training, I think setting goals and recognizing accomplishments is extremely valuable. For myself, I spend inordinate amounts of time writing lists of goals for myself and trying to learn as much as possible in an effort to make each day "worthwhile".

Then today, Justin and I had a brief exchange that I will paraphrase for you here:

Justin: Ash, I need to write down my Three Things for last year, and I can only remember two. 

Me: Well, I guess the last one wasn't that memorable, huh? 

Justin: Not funny. I really can't think of a third thing. What a waste of a year. 

Now, Justin clearly doesn't think of 2009 as a true waste... at least I hope not. It was our first year of marriage after all. The year we moved away from home to establish a new life, independent. The year that the Bengals disappointed us all again. But nonetheless his statement took me aback. Could a year really be a waste? 

My immediate response to the year being a waste question is to say, no, of course not. But some might disagree. Some may contest that in order to live a life worth remembering, you must actively create memories. You must do and create and accomplish. And up until the past couple of months, I think I would have agreed.
In general, I spend the majority of my time doing or planning to do. I have an internal dialogue telling me that life is passing me by quickly and I must hurry to keep up with the pace. I need Things to add to my own list.

But Justin's words today made me take pause. I began to think about measuring the value of a year. This may have been in no small part also related to the fact that I hurt my back this week and was unable to move today, so I was, quite literally, forced to slow down. But anyway, I wondered whether having or not having that Third Thing to add to his list could or should make a difference. Had we not experienced so many things in 2009? Had we not survived our first year of marriage and saying goodbye to family and friends? Had we not traveled throughout the U.S. and had we not celebrated the milestones of our loved ones? Had we not seen movies and danced at weddings and eaten birthday cake and played blackjack in Vegas and sang karaoke? Had we not lived?

As I'm writing, I'm reminded of the song "Seasons of Love" from the show Rent, the lyrics of which pose the exact question I'm contemplating. How do you measure, a year in the life? The song suggests sunsets, cups of coffee, laughter, strife, and... love. All of which we had plenty of last year. Well, not much coffee for Justin, but you get the point. It's not measured in the number of marathons run or awards received. Not at all. In fact, I hope that when I'm old I remember the details instead of the major milestones: the cups of coffee (or tea or whatever), the from-behind hugs, the feel of the ice cold floor in our tiny kitchen, the cats throwing up on the carpet, and the curling up under the heating blanket to keep warm. If I can remember those things, that will be okay.

So my new stance on the Three Things Rule, at least for today, is that it will need to become the Five Hundred Twenty-Five Thousand Six Hundred Things list in order to account for all of the individual moments that made 2009, and every year, memorable.

So, what are your thoughts?