Taking Risks

photo: Ibrahim Lujaz

"Security is mostly a superstition.  It does not exist in nature, nor do the children of men as a whole experience it.  Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than outright exposure. Life is either a daring adventure, or nothing."  
--Helen Keller

Go out on a limb....take a chance.....do some thing every day that scares you... These are sayings/invitations we've heard through our lifetimes no doubt, that perhaps piqued something in us but more often than not was dismissed. Why?

Is our illusion around safety and security so embedded, the human propensity to stick to a plan and not "rock the boat" so ingrained, that even the merest scary idea of acting outside my sensible norm becomes intimidating? Are we so wedded to our creature comforts, our (indoctrinated) sensibilities, ideas of a good life threatened by being something else not characterized by the usual?

I recently made a bunch of pacts with myself to do a series of things I haven't done since childhood.  Like dive head-first into water from an elevation or subject myself to a terrifying, stomach-turning roller coaster ride, skinny dip in broad daylight, walk in a downpour gladly, without being hunched and cowered, allowing my (adult) shoes to become saturated and squishy. I longed to grapple with a small something that secretly threatened aspects of myself, things I was sure I could not do, was afraid to fail at:  knit a pair of socks, terrifying for even an experienced knitter with all those yarn overs, dropped stitches and intimidating rounded heels, make a Baked Alaska (solid ice cream in a hot pastry? how is this possible?), eat okra with an open palate (there must be something else to it besides sliminess).  Why do even these small things imprison me in a type of fear and/or abhorrence for decades? What is so bad about being in a transitory state of discomfort?


My practically crystallized ideas of myself are challenged: I'm not as good a knitter as I like to believe.  I'm not that talented at baking.  I am uncomfortable being out of control, not "knowing".  What if someone sees me naked... what if I get arrested (!) I sometimes misunderstand directions given, therefore I must be stupid.  My life is channeled by my innumerous likes and dislikes and my sense of comfort/discomfort to avoid these challenges.  Something hangs onto these negative childish impressions and messages; my secret and not-so-secret sense of identity depends upon them.

"Those who are willing to be vulnerable move among mysteries."  Theodore Roethke

Photo: Xose Castro Roig

Something happens when I take something dreaded on willingly, with a glad (if not intrepid) heart.  The torture of the experience is still guaranteed (the ego after all, is my constant companion).  But the liberation which transpires each step of each agonizing step in the process of the dastardly event is also guaranteed.  The unabated interior railing that goes on in the process is astounding and somehow hilarious. One sees the humor in the folly of the long held belief being broken.  One experiences one's ridiculousness, awkwardness and revels (perhaps after crying a bit) in that.  Or one relives the old wound of self-disappointment but from a more mature perspective; a point of view that can rally, try it again but this time without self-recrimination, this time with more patience and compassion.  This is gold in one's pocket. This is a bit of a triumph; maybe bigger than a bit.  This is a life stepping up to a challenge, a life being lived,  a control freak being denied, a big spirit showing itself. 

"Knowledge implies ignorance of what lies beyond what is known.  Knowledge is always limited."
--Sri Ramana Maharshi

The human condition for all of us on some level, is reaching middle or old age and finding ourselves nailed to an unexpected misery, fear of the future, deep discontent despite being surrounded by all the imaginable comforts the world could possibly provide.  It in some part is related to not having evolved a deeper trust in the experience of living a life.  Material wealth has meticulously been accrued by being well practiced at putting our noses to the grindstone (no small feat, but often not life-giving).  Somehow, facing our rigid attitudes and the armor of our likes and dislikes, doesn't merit an exploration of further examination.  This would involve taking small risks; risks like being physically or emotionally uncomfortable, especially when it is not ostensibly necessary to do so.  The human fear of the unknown and especially sensory dislikes stop us dead in our tracks.  Why?  Why are we afraid of life?  This unwillingness to suffer (even temporarily) binds us up.  It without a doubt, halts knowing who we are and probably what we might be here for.  Whether it be clearing the throat chakra so we can speak our truth to ourselves or to others or subjecting oneself to serving in a soup kitchen because one has been unnerved by the indigent or the mentally ill in the past.  There is exploring to do.  Take a risk.