Caution: Live a Great Story. The sticker playfully
vandalized a sign in a state park that provided a warning for those who might
not have been close attention that the trail narrowed and was slowly winding
down hill towards river rapids. There were areas of the trail that were
rockier, more slippery, seemingly more dangerous.
I told my husband that there was a story right there, with
that sign and that sticker. It was full of real life, right there, facing us in
that sign and sticker. How often do we half heartedly challenge ourselves and
then feel more pride than we should about the "risk" we just
overcame? How often do we caution ourselves to avoid risks that might make a
great story later, just because we don't have the courage? How often do we
actually risk more than we should, often without seeing another option, and
while we end up with a great story, it was never a great experience?
Living itself is a risk. Every day we wake up, we have no
idea what will happen. We have some, but not total, control. What is the
benefit of seeking out greater risks than just waking up? What is the benefit
of not taking new chances?
My 5 year old doesn't understand risk yet. That caution sign
in the park? To her it was an invitation to run and have lots of fun. When it was
rocky, she knew that she had to tread carefully. But, a big, leaf covered hill?
Who can resist? The sign was really meant for us to ensure we kept her close.
But, what about the times we don't keep her close? When she
was not quite 2, she ran across two front yards to meet an older boy that she
didn't know who was bouncing a basketball by himself.
She stared at him. He stopped bouncing his ball and stared
back at her. She wasn't yet talking. He was 9 year old, but didn't seem to know
how to deal with a toddler approaching him.
My husband made introductions. Those two have become best
friends because of the risk our daughter took. Turns out, the boy's family was
used to way more risks than most of us American born citizens will likely ever
face. When the boy was 2, his entire family was poisoned in their home country
of Democratic Republic of Congo. He spent the next 6 years with his family in a
Refugee Camp in Uganda before moving to the USA.
His family took a risk. They have a great story. But, their
experience wasn't great.
In 2005, interest rates were low and friends around me
convinced me to start looking for a house. I searched many houses, and found
one that I liked. I took a risk and purchased the house. It is an old 98 year
old house. There have been frustrations, there have been joys- both have lead
to great stories. Is this really the greatest risk that I have ever done? In my
mind, it is. Seems trivial when so many before me have done the same in life.
But, as I said before, just waking up every morning is the first risk we take
every day.
Yet, that is where many of us exist. The low risk plane
where our decisions for the day do not cause great thought. We take the paths
most traveled and still somehow think our experience is unique to us.
Is that wrong? Avoiding all moderate to high risks could
lead to undeveloped potential. I recently had a student intern who really had
no passion for the job that she had spent 4 years studying, but she decided to
just continue to plug away because of the time and money already invested. To
her, there was even greater risk at spending more time and money to explore yet
another career choice. Sure, she could go on and eventually settle into a job
where she was mediocre. But, there is probably a career that suits her better
if she would just cross that new bridge.
But, what do successful risk takers have in come with those
who have either been unsuccessful in taking a risk or have avoided a risk
because of unwarranted fear? A clear goal in sight.
My daughter who is a social butterfly, who takes the risk to
meet people and loves to travel- her objective is to explore and learn as much
about the world that surrounds her as she can because she knows that with that
knowledge leads to independence.
The neighbors who risked their lives in Democratic Republic
of Congo? Their goal was safety. Safety for themselves, their extended
families, their neighbors. Even though they are safer now in the USA, they are
still with the people they left behind and continue to work to make the area
safer for others.
Even low risk decisions, such as buying a house, come with
clear goals if they are to be successful. My goal when I bought my house was
something that was affordable, which to me meant lower mortgage payment than my
rent. Something that was centrally located to allow efficient travel around the
city. Something that was solidly built. And the ultimate goal was financial. I
wanted to keep my money and not be giving it to a landlord for the rest of my
lift.
What do people who do not cross those new bridges seem to
have in common? Lack of a clear goal.
When I asked the student what her goal was after she was
done with her internship, her response was simply that she wanted a part time
job somewhere. It never seemed to matter to her where, or what the job was, or
what it paid, or even if it had benefits (her husband had the benefits). It
wasn't clear why she paid money for this particular graduate degree or why she
was spending time at a place at which she clearly did not want to be. It wasn't
clear what she was hoping to learn at her internship. She seemed mostly
interested in maximizing her time with her family at home. Was her goal really
to be a stay at home mother, but she thought society would look down on her? I
can't say for sure. But, I can say that actually doing what you want, instead
of what you think society wants you to do, is actually risky. And if what you
want is legal, gives you positive benefits that outweigh any negative losses,
then it is likely a good risk to take. Doesn't matter if it feels like a small,
low risk to you or a big, high risk to you. If you have a clear goal in mind,
and the risk you will take gives you positive rewards that outweigh any
negatives, that risk is most often worth it.
-- Monica