If/Then

For those who know me well, know that I collect moments. When something touches my heart, I remember that moment so vividly for years and years to come. My friends think my word-for-word descriptions of events that happened in first grade are a bit bizarre, yet they always call me to ask me questions about whose class they were in or what the boy's name was that cut Carlie's hair.

While in New York City, my sweet cousin Ashton rode the train into town from New Haven, Connecticut to spend the day with me. Both being avid lovers of all things Broadway, we knew we wanted to spend our evening attending a musical. We saw Les Mis-- my absolute favorite-- and had a wonderful time. While walking out of the theater, we saw a crowd at the theater next to ours. The crowd was waiting for Idina Menzel to come out of the stage door to greet them. Ashton and I never back down from an opportunity to join a large crowd waiting outside a stage door. Well, at least, we've never passed up the opportunity thus far.

We stood there. Outside the theater. In the cool New York City air. And laughed. And it was perfect. 

We never actually saw Idina that night, but we sure had a blast waiting. If we had been in a rush to get back the hotel then we would have missed that opportunity to stand on the steps of Times Square and genuinely love the life we live. It was magical. It was wonderful. And, it will be something I will talk about for years to come. 

I actually saw If/Then recently. It was an impulse adventure. I saw they were selling tickets for the show in Dallas the same weekend Abby and I would be passing through on the way to Houston. I bought tickets, and a week later, we were in our great center balcony seats. The show was absolutely my wonderful.

We stood there. Outside the theater. In the warm Dallas air. And laughed. And it was perfect. 

The musical follows a woman named Elizabeth. She's calculated, realistic, and she's faced with a major decision about what her next step is in life. Over the course of the musical, we see how her life could be. If she chose this, then she'd have that. If she chose that, then she'd have this. We see how the two lives of Liz criss-cross and change and work out for the good, even though there was lots of bad along the way.

I find myself very similar to Elizabeth.

Weighing out options. Calculating the costs of each side. Looking at the If/Then situations. Laying awake at night thinking of how things could, should, would turn out. Wondering which path I should take, while also thinking about the paths that I passed by and where I would be if I had taken one of them instead. 

I think of the choices I've already made, and how they have affected who I am. 

The college I selected.

The degrees I received.

The friends I've made.

The friends I've lost.

The stoplights I sat at. 

The boys I broke up with.

The boys that broke up with me.

The texts I've sent.

The places I've traveled.

The jobs I didn't accept.

The jobs that turned me down.

The times I chose to simply say "no."

And the moments I decided to say "yes" on impulse.

Reflecting on decisions made and roads not traveled has provided so much insight to who I am.

It's not about the trains I missed or the paths left untaken.

Those don't matter any more.

It's about the paths I did choose, and the steps I'm currently walking.

Life is weird and mostly just a lot of thinking, "Wow, I never thought this would be the way things turned out." It seems to be a series of decisions about what you want to do, and, ultimately, what you're willing to give up in order to make those dreams a reality. It's certainly bittersweet when you have to sacrifice something to make room for something greater, and it's even worse when someone gives you up to follow a different dream. It's okay to mourn the things that don't happen-- that job you so desperately wanted, that boy you thought you would marry, that friendship that seemed to fizzle out-- because those are tough pills to swallow, and deserve some time to truly grieve over. However, during that time of mourning, I also have to realize why they didn't happen. Each event came along (or didn't come along), at just the right time, to bring something out that I needed to experience in my life, at the perfect time. 

While I didn't get those jobs or get invited to those parties, there were different plans-- plans that were better for me, and would better shape who I am. Sometimes there's a painful amount of waiting involved, and sometimes, there's no waiting, but you're given more like five minutes.

So here's what I've learned: It's okay to plan. It's okay to calculate the risks. It's okay to be hesitant for fear of the unknown. But it's also okay to not know how things are going to turn out. There's some sort of magic that happens during the unknown. I can't explain it. You just have to live it. You cannot plan for every bump in the road or every time you want to stop to pick flowers. It's just something that happens.. and then you keep going, because sometimes the happiest ending isn't the one we are wishing for, but instead something you can't see from where you currently are. 

Regardless of the If/Then's, life is going to happen.