The Risk

Describe a risk you took that you do not regret.

Sometimes in life we are presented with a moment in time, like a still photograph that preserves the life of its subject, wherein we must be willing to put aside all logic. Logic is a captor and sometimes its poison to the adventurous soul. To stay ahead of the poison, we must be ready to take risks. Life is not meant to be lived in a place of comfort. Comfort is a liar. Comfort is a thief. For where there is comfort, there is no fire. Comfort fools us into thinking that it’s safe there. But is it really? What is life if it cannot be grasped with clawed hands and ridden like a wild bull out of a pen?

One year and five months ago, I took a risk. It was half calculated and half cocked. I stepped out of my comfort zone seeking peace. I had no guarantee that I would find peace, nor a guarantee that the risk wouldn’t completely burn me alive. But I knew that I had to be loyal to my soul, loyal to my spirit. I would navigate nights of uncertainty, days of a heavy laden heart. I would peer into the mirror many a morning, looking back at eyes that had barely slept.

But I faced one of the biggest fears of my life–being alone. I let the deafening silence envelop me like a cocoon. And, I got to know me. When all you have is you, there’s no running. There’s no easy button for making peace with the demons that sit on your shoulder, begging for attention. They’re with you and you have to silence their incessant shouts of doubt.

I don’t know that I realized how lonely the days would become or how achingly my heart longed for something more. But I also didn’t realize that even in the midst of uncertainty and doubt, I could find peace. I wasn’t sure how I would pay rent on an apartment but month after month, I learned that I could. I wasn’t sure that I would learn how to use an electric screwdriver but obstacles provide inspiration for survival and you learn a lot of things you never thought you could.

While sojourning through the pain, I realized that my heart beat a little more steady, my breathing was relaxed, and I didn’t have the wiggly feeling in the pit of my stomach. You know the feeling–like you’re somewhere you shouldn’t be and your body is telling you to high tail it out of there. I realized my muscles weren’t tense and I wasn’t feeling like the weight of the world was resting on my shoulders. Suddenly, I realized what peace felt like.

Risk isn’t always clear cut. It isn’t as simple as flipping a coin and deciding to go with tails. Sometimes we have visions of what life is supposed to be or what we are supposed to be doing. But who defined that for us? Are we living authentically to ourselves or are we living in some design that our brain says we “should” be doing? Risk is scary. It’s damn scary. There are no do overs if we screw it all up. Once we jump off the cliff, we can’t say “whoops, let me get back on solid ground.” It’s a committed jump.

Sometimes we’re fearful of risk because of what our decisions will mean to other people. While that is very chivalrous, it will never bring peace. Some may say it’s selfish to take risks. Why take a risk that might hurt another person? We are always at risk of hurting other people, especially if it’s through living anything less than our own unique truth.

In the end, I knew that I was headed for a nervous breakdown if I didn’t do something. I could not continue on the path I was on and expect peace. When I made peace with the self doubt, I knew what I had to do. I knew that my happiness depended on it. I knew that I was not meant for half-assed living. I used a pivotal moment in my life where I could have chosen comfort, and I chose risk.

The days are not always easy but the nights are not always long. Peace is priceless. There is no substitute for living the life that is right for me. While I do care about those who may have been hurt by my choice, I have worked to maintain those relationships. And guess what? It wasn’t nearly as scary as I had imagined. In fact, sometimes I think it takes an earth shattering move to make some people realize your worth. But in the end, it’s not what they think about my worth; rather it’s what I think about my own. I’m damn worthy to be happy and at peace. Even though things are still unfolding, I have to believe that the future holds greater for me because I thought greater for myself.

Today, after a morning fraught with melancholy, I went in a store and saw something that was handpicked just for me. It was a little decorative sign that said, “The best is yet to come.” I see it on the horizon, I know it’s just over this mountain. This is just the beginning of my story. And I don’t regret a bit of what it took to get to Chapter One.