My dreams have guided me, pushed me, and many times, terrified me. I dreamt of moving across the country, and I did. I packed up what I could fit in my car, hugged everything I knew goodbye, and made my way east. I dreamt of running a mountain, and I did. I took 6 months to train, invested in the appropriate gear, and made my way north. I dreamt of having my own practice, and I did. I quit my state job, opened my doors, and invited people in. My dreams come in many shapes and sizes, but each no less important than the other, as each have made me who I am. I still dream of writing a book, hanging my photographs in a gallery, and riding my bike the 3,500 miles back home, and I'm not any less terrified, but I'm also not any less determined. My dreams refuse to let go, they hold tight, whisper in my ear at night, and tell me to go.