My mind is a constant river of ideas. I like this about myself, except when I don’t. It’s helpful for brainstorming, writing and navigating life creatively. But that endless stream becomes less helpful when it floods my to-do list, my book list and my list of all the places I dream of visiting. I often have to gently remind myself: You can’t do everything today, Sandra. One thing at a time.

For years, I truly believed I could reach the bottom of my to-do list in a week. I was determined, treating it like a game I could win. But just when I’d get close, the list would magically regenerate. A wise friend once told me, “You know you’re never actually going to get to the bottom of your to-do list, right?” I laughed. The game was rigged  — and I needed to stop playing it.

That’s why I was so intrigued by the concept of the lean bucket list, which I discovered through New York Times columnist Lori Gottlieb. It’s less about a literal list and more about a mindset. Gottlieb, a psychotherapist and author, suggests we keep long bucket lists as a subconscious way of avoiding the reality of death. That made me laugh — and think.

In her book Maybe You Should Talk to Someone, she writes:

“We think we make bucket lists to ward off regret, but really they help us to ward off death. After all, the longer our bucket lists are, the more time we imagine we have left to accomplish everything on them. Cutting the list down, however, makes a tiny dent in our denial systems, forcing us to acknowledge a sobering truth: Life has a 100 percent mortality rate.”

A lean bucket list challenges that denial. Instead of assuming we’ll live to our 90s and sip lemonade on a lanai like we’re in an episode of “The Golden Girls” (a personal favorite), what if we lived with the mindset that time is limited — and acted accordingly?

I often break down my workday from a daunting “whole pie” into just a few manageable slices. The full pie overwhelms me. But tackling three slices? That feels productive and satisfying — like a big exhale. We can think the same way about life.

That’s the essence of a lean bucket list: a small, intentional collection of experiences and goals that truly matter to you. Instead of 50 grand ambitions, maybe it’s five that deeply resonate. If you check them all off and your heart’s still beating — make another list. That’s the beauty of it.

The lean bucket list is a filter for your life. It asks you to pause and examine what actually matters to you. Here are some questions that can help make your list lean:

Creating a lean bucket list is an exercise in self-reflection. It breaks autopilot. It whispers, “Hey, what do you really want to do while you’re here?”

A never-ending list can be mentally exhausting. A lean list provides clarity and focus in a world that constantly tugs at our attention. When we deliberately prioritize what’s most fulfilling, we’re more likely to actually feel fulfilled.

And sometimes, the most meaningful experiences aren’t death-defying or elaborate.

When people hear “bucket list,” they often think of big adventures — like cliff rappelling in Costa Rica or taking an Alaskan cruise. And yes, I’ve got a few of those. The most sacred items I've crossed off my lean list are centered around the people I love.

The day I met my birth mom. Later, the day I met my birth father.

The cookout where I met my big extended birth family for the first time.

Our wedding, surrounded by friends and family.

The births of our daughters and because they were born at 33 weeks, the day we brought them home, a month later.

Now I want to intentionally create more of those moments. I want to enjoy gatherings with faraway loved ones as well as big travel and quiet connections with our daughters before they leave for college.

Holding on to the thought that time is finite can transform how we move through life. Maybe I’ll memorize the nourishing feeling of seeing our daughters peacefully asleep in the middle of the night. Maybe I’ll pluck one idea from that ever-flowing stream in my mind and use it to create a joyful, spontaneous memory, like jamming out to music at 7 a.m. as our girls get ready for school.

A lean bucket list doesn’t dwell on death — it celebrates the living.

As Gottlieb so perfectly writes:

“It’s easier to become death procrastinators. Many of us take for granted the people we love and the things we find meaningful, only to realize, when our deadline is announced, that we’d been skating by on the project: our lives.”

Would your life look any different if you realized your project is happening now?