Life’s Little Leaps

When I was a young girl I suspect I was a handful. Not because of misbehavior, or any sort of rotten attitude. But I’ve always had a wild and adventurous heart. I’m not sure where that came from, but it’s always been there, festering inside of me. 

I think it started with the jumping. 

 Before I was school age I would jump constantly. If a movie was playing on the tv, I would watch it, sure. But I would also be jumping. I did not like to be still. I had to move. Naps were the enemy. I was a nightmare if you put me to bed. I would scream and grab on to walls while being hauled off. I fought with my entire little being to stay awake. Mema had to throw her leg over me and hold me down until I slept. Dad had to drive me around in the car while I banged my head against the seat fighting to stay conscious. I did not want to miss out. I wanted to go, to do, to live. 

Eventually I stopped with the movie jump-a-thons and moved on to acting the movies out as they played. I copied the characters on the screen, and would sometimes invite the whole family to watch me do it. Then I put on plays without the movie background as a guide. My siblings knew we had to go rehearse something like “The Three Little Pigs” a couple of times before we performed it for Grandma and Grandpa. 

When I was in fifth grade I got a hold of a script for “A Charlie Brown Christmas.” I cast the kids who lived on my street in various roles, and proceeded to direct (and star) in the play, which we performed for the adults from a neighbor’s garage. And when a friend’s father had a video camera I obsessed over making movies. Creating stories, rehearsing them, and then getting them on film. I used to believe this was proof that I needed to be an actress. I loved to perform. But looking back, I think what I really loved was creating. Exploring. Doing. Here I was pretending to be this whole other character, and I wanted you to watch me do it. 

It was more than just an ego boost though. It was true that I liked attention, but I think most kids-most people- like attention. I think the real truth is that I loved to pretend more than I loved doing anything. I pretended all the time; and longer than was probably age appropriate. Because you could do anything if it was pretend. 

I used to buy cherry flavored Italian ice from the ice cream man, and pretended to be vampires with my neighborhood friends. We organized street-wide water balloon fights. Boys against girls. And it thrilled me to pretend to ditch the girls team only to steal the boys balloons for ourselves in victory. There was a rumor of a cougar in our neighborhood in Florida. (The animal, not the woman.) So my friends and I hunted after it, and terrified ourselves with our own imaginations as we staked out in the woods just past where we were allowed to play. I imagined what it would be like to live crazy scenarios, good and bad. I wanted to know what it would all feel like. 

I think theatre provided a socially acceptable way to keep pretending. I wasn’t overly distracted with technology. I was out doing something. I was creating and exploring new scenarios; and while it makes me sad to think of how little I now play pretend, I think all that performing inspired me to actually go do some stuff without reimagining my surroundings and circumstances, and just playing the role of me. 

Maybe I really could have an adventure worth  watching. 

Maybe I didn’t have to miss out on life.

Maybe I could keep jumping. 

I jumped into adventure as much as I could. Whether I was playing on dirt hills in construction zones, no-handed bike races through Foster’s Creek, playing in the rain, hosting get-togethers, wearing ridiculous costumes and going out in public, dying on the big hill from underage alcohol poisoning, jumping off small cliffs into ice cold river water, and generally testing the limits of my bravery. I wanted to do it all. Experiences truly thrilled me. My friend’s parents called me wild. I called me adventurous. 

Make no mistake, I wasn’t a bad egg. I was kind. I made decent grades. I worked hard to make others pleased with me. But I was perhaps a bit of a fool. A fun fool, I’d like to argue. 

And sometimes even fools find success. I used to pretend I was an actress, and then I got paid to be a real one at Parkway Playhouse. I used to pretend to be a teacher to my siblings, and then I became that after college. I never had any aspirations toward aviation, but I did always jump, and I guess one day I flew. 

Working as a flight attendant brought on a slew of new experiences. A world of new possibilities. I had more chances to jump at, more things to go do. This particular lurch in career has only further nurtured my wild adventurous heart. I’ve traveled alone and explored new cities. I’ve gone to countries where I couldn’t speak the language, and learned to get around. I’ve climbed an active volcano. I’ve wandered cobble stone streets into the early morning. I’ve hiked miles uphill to see a wonder of the world. 

In the end, life is nothing but memories. It’s the experiences we’ve had and the people who made them memorable. I’m not special or alone in having a lust for life. It could all be meaningless, but we’re doing it anyway so why not romanticize it? Why not let it thrill you? Why not let it scare you?

If it hurts you, good. If it changes you, good. I think life is meant to be lived boldly. So, I’m going to refuse to sleep my way through life, and keep taking leaps of faith. 

-Courtney