I want to live someplace warm, where I can grow bananas and avocados and oranges. Someplace I don’t have to shiver, or frown at running because of cold rain. But there is so much here in Portland that begs me to stay! Hawaii has the weather, but the Mainland has friends and family and better opportunities for jobs and explorations. I have a friend I want to start a tea company with, and another friend who wants someone to help with his business, keeping his website up to date and his house clean and welcoming. The unofficial job title is “artisan of space” — and no, that’s not a euphemism for “maid”. It is in fact very near my dream job, and I’d take at the drop of a hat if it weren’t a once-a-month thing. Yet it has the potential to grow, being something akin to an invitation to join the Round Table.

I’ve already decided to spend the summer on the West and East coasts, but perhaps I should stay longer. Perhaps I should live in a co-op, explore recipes, pursue some hobbies until they turn into little business opportunities (food, games, design), and develop the relationships I’m only beginning to form with people like Gavin and Kellyn and others who share my passions and enthusiasm for life. Here, I can form what my dad calls “a community of like-minded people” and what Gavin simply calls “teams”. Here is his Round Table. Here, Thomas can be near the people he cares about, too, and here, I won’t be struggling alone to make ends meet — much less make something of my grand dreams for the future.

But these days are sunny and warm, and my toes feel green grass, and Thom’s mom is in town taking us to the Chinese Gardens, and my thesis is brilliant, and I’m full of hope and excitement. When the cold sets in again next winter, will I be regretting not having gone to Hawaii? Should I spend the summer with my parents, playing with my ideas full-time, instead of in Portland, where I have to pay rent and face reality that much sooner? What if none of my exciting plans ever makes it out the barrel of the gun, due to my own inertia? No, I won’t let that happen. Soon I won’t have school as an excuse not to let my imagination go wild. When I free it, where will it fly? The horizon is so much bigger here, but maybe it’s just where I’m standing. The I-Ching said not to fly west, but for how long? Why does climate have to be so darned important to my mood and well-being? Why do I so wish for my windows to be flung open all the time, for the sea to be warm, for the rain not to chill my bones? It’s so simple a thing, yet it makes decisions difficult.

So I will wait and see. Perhaps my parents’ scouting mission to Hawaii will inspire them to buy land and help me build a house on it. Perhaps all my friends will decide to move there and form an eco-village and grow chocolate. Perhaps all the opportunities here will dry up, and the future will be up for grabs once again. Perhaps the glacial melt will swallow up Hawaii and global warming will turn the Pacific Northwest into citrus country, and solve all my dilemmas once and for all. Perhaps I will get a terminal illness and I’ll use my last days to… um… oh, wait, that’s a tough one, isn’t it.

Like looking at recipes without a proper kitchen, it is difficult to sit down and plan without recourse to experimentation. So I’ll talk with more people, sleep on it, think some more, and figure out the most flexible option. Actually, it’s kind of exciting — I’ve finally hit the last bit of pavement, and it’s off-roading here on out. I just have to stick to my values and my passions, not get too bogged down in seriousness, and I’ll have a grand adventure. (Hopefully with an avocado tree somewhere in there.)