choices, sentence fragments, second chances... i like you. (you know who you are)

I was having trouble deciding what to write today. But I knew that I wanted to write. So, I used an old trick that is usually helpful... I read back on what I was doing a year ago today. I love doing that, because it really sheds light on how much has actually changed in a year. And then, of course, I didn't stop reading for a while. And I stumbled on some posts from April-Mayish this year, where I talked about how I felt so unstable in life. Not unstable in a bad way. Just in the way that I was standing there, in one spot, and I knew I could choose a few different directions. And I knew that if I took even one step toward something, my life would change. I remember that feeling, I remember wanting the change, and I remember feeling like it wasn't quite time to step yet.

It's funny, now, looking back on that version of myself. Because when I finally DID step, everything I thought would happen happened. But I didn't remember that I had felt that way previously. I wonder how many times in life that happens? How many times we have feelings about things, make choices, and forget about what prompted us to do that in the first place?

Today, I had to stay after school for some teacher meetings. They were informative, inspiring, and daunting. As normal teacher related things go. But one thing we talked about was writing, and how students don't know how to do it. The principal brought up the point that all of us are also from a generation of non-writers, and now we're expected to teach these kids how to do something that we never really learned how to do. Which made me think, because, obviously, I write. I really don't have problems with writing. Essays fly through my mind and fingers and into the computer easily. Blog posts are common. When I was younger I used to write story after story. So, if I was never taught that, where did I pick it up? And I started going back through my mind to all the times I could remember writing, and why was I writing at that moment, and what was I writing about? And I realized that it was really my love of READING that prompted me to write things, because I wanted to be able to tell stories like my favorite authors did.

So, there you go. I guess what I'm trying to say here, really, is that choices define us. It's the choice to teach your child to read at age 4, so that she gains a love of it, and eventually becomes a much better writer. It's the choice to take a step in your life toward something good. To give second chances to people who deserve them. To take chances that scare you. To take the safe way, or the hard way. I mean, this isn't news to you, I'm sure. We all know our choices define us. It's being able to look back on my life, and remember specific choices I made from FOREVER ago, that got me to where I am. I think that's the real lesson here.

p.s. if that was long and confusing, sorry... I had better intentions.