Plato said, "Life should be lived as play." Now that we've dispensed with a suitably erudite-sounding philosopher, I'd like to get all low-brow on you and discuss a series of books I love, "Choose Your Own Adventure."

In my bedside table are three: "Forecast From Stonehenge," "Prisoner of the Ant People" and "Struggle Down Under." (It's not what you think.) Each book begins with a conflict, and practically each page presents choices that lead to danger, adventure and, eventually, another ending.

Typically, when I reach a choice, I dog-ear a page, and when that story line plays out, I return to the dog-eared page and read to another conclusion.

Admittedly, these books aren't manuals of pragmatic behavior. (If a giant ant lumbers into Southlake Mall and threatens you and your Martian friend Flppto, RUN!) But they do teach one valuable lesson: Endings are unpredictable.

Usually, hard work and good deeds are rewarded.

Sometimes they're not. Sometimes, good or bad luck twists the ending.

The "Lost Jewels of Nabooti" has 38 endings. "Race Forever" has 33. If a 115-page book has this many conclusions, imagine how many potential outcomes your life has.

When people mull over how they want to die, most want to meet the Reaper in their sleep. But nobody discusses in what condition they'll leave this life. Did you travel to the Holy Land, or was that a dream you let die when you were 50?

Did you help the people you wanted to? Did you have fun? Did you ever deeply believe in God? Did that belief ever meaningfully change your life?

On an index card at the beginning of the semester, I asked students to supply an address where they could be reached in five years -- to the best of their knowledge, of course. I then told them they would be submitting life goals to me, which they would begin working on immediately. In five years, their mail carriers will hand them a letter from me with one question: Here is a list of the goals and dreams you had five years ago. So, how have you been doing on them?

It's so easy to procrastinate, to reach for the easy or familiar, to delay our dreams for tomorrow. But we must live with purpose, even urgency, in case our lives end before tomorrow. Regrets aren't expensive; they are past price. We must open our minds to what could happen, that we could lose a loved one or a limb, but, like Job, remain true to our purposes.

So here's homework for you, my readers. Given that anything could be taken from you, given the infinitude of potential endings for your life, what are you determined to have when you die, no matter what?

The opinions expressed are solely those of the writer. Rebecca Bailey, the mother of four, lives in Schererville and teaches at Valparaiso University. Her column alternates with that of Lansing mom Carrie Steinweg. She can be reached at Rebecca.bailey@valpo.edu.