Getting older is a funny thing.
Time speeds up. The black and white of my youth fades to grey. The weave of certainty unravels. The future compresses from limitless possibilities to a subset of realities.
The current me looks back on the previous me and wonders. What would I tell him?
I’d tell him to take more risks.
The risk of failing.
The risk of losing.
The risk of rejection.
The risk of looking stupid.
The risk of getting laughed at.
The risk of not being good at it.
The risk of what they’re going to think.
The risk of making the wrong the decision.
The risk of someone else getting upset at you.
The risk of looking like you made the wrong decision.
The risk of letting someone know how you really feel.
In hindsight, I can see now how fear ruled over me. Fear of what? All those things listed above. That was an easy list to write. I could keep going.
When my kids drive off, I always tell them in jest, “Drive fast and take chances!” I don’t mean it literally, and they know that. But it’s just a little out-of-context reminder that they will have to take some risks.
There is no reward without risk. Life is worth the risk.
