I made a choice

I made a choice to be here.
I made a choice to be 25, single, and transient.
I made a choice to live on the mountaintops and not on the highways.
I made a choice to feed the dreamer and chase the rainbows and go for broke.

Some days it's hard to remember. Some days, after twelve hours of packing and moving (knowing I'll do it all again at least twice more before summer's end), it's hard to see anything but frustration. Some days, saying goodbye and feeling my heart stretch and tear yet again, it starts to feel like a curse. Like this is something that has happened to me. It's easy to fall into self-pity.

But I made a choice.

I looked at the paths. I explored the options open to me. Presented with the opportunity for comfort and consistency, I let my mind and my heart wander hand-in-hand down that wide, level road (it wasn't hard to see where it was headed). As the vision wandered on, I saw my mind and heart always comfortable, the routine always consistent and predictable, and no life to be found. Mind grew anxious and given to fits of whining for lack of anything else to talk about, heart turned gray and bleak and screamed with gasping little breaths for something more.

I recoiled and pulled them back just in time, and rolled them down another path. The winding, climbing, rambling, narrow path where "If only..." gives way to "What if..." which teases back with "Okay, when?" and is met with a resounding "Well, why not now?" They followed this path, cartwheeling and leaping and gaining speed. And they faced scraped knees and tears and having the wind knocked out of them on a frighteningly regular basis, but their hearts (the heart of my heart, the heart of my mind) pounded and their blood flowed and their cheeks glowed and no one could question if they were alive.

And so I made a choice.

I was created a dreamer. I was created a live wire, a loose cannon, a dangerous equation of imagination and impulsivity. I was created with a million "what if"s firing constantly across the night sky of my mind, with the willingness to engage them, with the stubbornness to chase them and pin them down. I was created with a knack for jumping in with both feet and very little natural talent for patiently testing the waters. And this knack has landed me in pits and mud puddles and surrounded by crocodiles, and it has landed me on trampolines that have flung me into the greatest adventures.

I was created this way, I say, but I made a choice to engage, to accept, to throw open my arms and embrace it.

This is not a sorry circumstance, this is not a feather blown by the wind for lack of the gumption to make a decision, this is not a holding pattern until I figure it all out.

I made a choice to stay a dreamer, in the company of dreamers, chasing after the greatest Dreamer.

And I would make that choice again.