Wednesday, 9 August 2017
Too much risk? Or not enough?
When it boils down to it, life is all about taking risks. Each and every decision we make on a daily basis is run through our internal risk assessment machine before we make a call to go one way or the other. Most decisions involve minimal risk, so the turning of the cogs in our machine go unnoticed. Will these socks keep my feet warm enough? Are two cups of coffee too much coffee? Will I still fit my jeans if I finish this block of chocolate?
It’s the bigger choices that involve bigger financial, physical, emotional or psychological costs where we really hear the machine gears grinding and wait in limbo until it spits out the product of that risk assessment - are we going to do that thing, or are we not? Is it worth the risk?
But then, what could be the more costly, to take a risk, or to sit tight? What if both options have a cost? On the one hand, if I take this risk, it could be financially costly; if I don’t take the risk, I might regret it for years to come. Would you rather live with a little bit of regret, or a little bit of debt?
For me, I could get over losing a sum of money more easily than I could get over losing an opportunity. The thing with money is that it is finite, you generally know exactly how much you stand to lose. You know if that would cripple you, or if maybe you might just have to sell off a few personal items to get over it. With opportunity, the potential cost to you is infinite. You just don’t know how much you could forego for the sake of safe-guarding your shekels.
It’s been some months since my last blog. With all puns intended, (because I flipping love a dad joke) I’ve had a major shake up (ba-doom-boom-tish). Managing the fallout of the earthquake has meant keeping a lot of balls in the air all the time and dropping them is a risk I can’t afford to take.
We’ve got to keep moving forward to recover, we’ve got to keep our business on track, we’ve got to meet the needs of our family, we’ve got to make home, home again. The essential balls are in play, the constant juggle.
There’s these other balls though, the ones that are important to you personally, as the juggler. Relationships, hobbies - ooh, and writing.
Having been all shook up and having to keep more balls in the air at a higher tempo than usual, I’ve come to realise just what I’m not prepared to let fall by the wayside. I always knew I was passionate about writing, it is a part of me that makes me, me. And it’s clear to me now just how determined I am to keep the writing balls in play.
It’s tricky, because writing can feel like a selfish pursuit, and that can be the source of guilt. The freelance articles I write bring income, but the books - that’s were I’m taking all the risks.
There are countless hours racked up that I may or may not ever be financially remunerated for. It’s a massive risk financially, physically, emotionally and psychologically. The risk assessment machine should say no - but despite it all, it says yes.
That is one of the silver linings of going through an horrific event, you really do get to know what matters to you. It lifts the fog of confusion, questioning and also the guilt. I don’t feel it much anymore because I know how much this matters to me and if am going to show myself some kindness, I have to keep going. I will keep writing my novel, I will keep our picture book project moving forward and every now and again, I might blog and tell you about it.
What do you risk it all for?