Last night, my sister had a dream that I fashioned a ship out of crepe myrtle tree sheddings, loaded her onto it and meant to push it off the roof of the office building featured in Adventures in Babysitting. Every time she tried to escape, I screamed, “This is happening! EMBRACE IT!”

It’s an odd scene, to be sure, but I agree with her observation — it’s very much something I would say. For me, these words have been ones to live by.

I can only speculate, but I doubt my dream self meant that my sister should be giddy at the prospect of falling off the roof. Rather, she should accept it — and make the most of the utterly bizarre situation she’d found herself in.

It’s tempting in this life to make lots of grandiose plans (like not plummeting off buildings at the hands of a deranged sibling) but there’s no room for reservations on the coulda woulda shoulda express.

I suppose strength is important, but more so is flexibility. You’ve got to learn to bounce.

Learning to bicycle several years behind the curve, clutching the handlebars in the baseball field across the street from my old house. My best friend’s dad has taken up the task of teaching me and runs, pushing me — both hands on the seat, his full weight and speed thrown behind us. I don’t need to bike — I can blade. Or skateboard even, there are more pads that way. Is this really necessary?

This is happening. Embrace it.

My total ineptitude at standardized spatial reasoning launching frenzied applications to private middle schools. Do I really have to go? It can’t possibly make that big a difference, and I’m not even thinking about college yet; I want to be a professional ballerina. I won’t know anyone, and I’m not sure the uniform suits me.

This is happening. Embrace it.

The sudden introduction of boobs and bras, boys and dramatics. Burn books, social awkwardness, and bad highlights. You can keep the driver’s license. I’ll go back to the second grade, thankyouverymuch.

This is happening. Embrace it.

A phone call, two days before college graduation, to let me know that the little company I had signed on to join had just been dissolved. Frozen on my roommate’s floor, unable to process the wasted plans, or what I would tell my parents.

This is happening. Embrace it.

If you’re lucky, one day your tepid acceptance will turn into a real embrace — a regular bear hug.

I was spread out on the hill at Miller Outdoor a few weekends back with my boyfriend, watching the Met’s summer dance series. I looked down at my discarded sandals, the picnic basket, our too-warm wine, and his hand on mine in the grass. My mind floated out a little broader, and I thought about my precious little apartment, my friends, my job and the turbulent year it’s been.

In a moment of stillness I considered what I'd made of my short adult life (accidentally or on purpose) and thought: “It's happening! Embrace it.”