The Greatest Risk
Is taking no risk at all.
Look, jumping out of a plane without a parachute or a plan is foolish, not risky.
We glorify the risk-takers and the crazy-makers, that’s not the type of risk I’m talking about, necessarily.
What I’m speaking of is the risk we all feel deep within. In the whispers. In the little moments. In the stillness.
“Do I double down on the relationship that feels like it’s teetering on the brink of disaster?”
“Should I really show compassion to myself after all these mistakes?”
“Will they think I’m crazy if I share this idea I’ve been dreaming about for years?”
“If I really go for something, and I’m not enough, then what?”
“I just can’t change…”
“Everyone else has it all figured out, who am I to create something?”
“If I speak up, will they even listen?”
“It’s too damn hard.”
Any of those sound familiar? Or is that just my brain?
The greatest risk isn’t losing money, failing, or having a bad idea. The greatest risk is taking no risk at all.
To settle for the old, tired tracks in our mind.
To surrender to the winds in our faces.
To ignore the purpose we have to dig deep to find.
Risky to fly in the face of all that and trust your soul’s quiet shouts? Sure.
Far riskier though, is to stuff it and silence it altogether.