What risks do I take? Its ALL risk

Isn’t it?

Even staying still and not doing a thing.

Too much stillness=stagnation.

I would say that the big obvious risks are more dramatic, but the little ones have changed my existence and experiences just as significantly.

When I was young, I was instructed, and tried, to do all the ‘right’ things so I could insure that nothing bad would happen. The things that were ‘correct’ according to the world as my parents saw it, were not always easy for me, but I struggled to do them. I often became frustrated with myself for falling short or ‘failing’.

If ever I risked listening to myself and following my inner voice, I would feel both good and bad. Bad for not complying, good for not complying.

I did that enough to get used to it. Sort of. The more I do it, the easier it gets.

What I think I learned, is that I can trust my intuition. If something feels off, I know its not right for me. It might be right for another, which was another thing, because I was taught growing up that there was only one right way. Anything else was wrong.

I spent years doing everything ‘wrong’, because I had to. (I was sure I was wired wrong).

Wrong is an interesting absolute.

Life is luckily long enough to learn a thing or two about perspective…

I risked not listening to my parents, society, teachers, friends, religious leaders, anyone, when the direction felt off. I risked following through with things that resonated. (I listened enough to regret listening too).

Little things that added up to a somewhat feral heart. No apologizes now, looking back I was practicing courage. I didn’t know it at the time, but the big and little risks of listening to me incrementally helped me see me, and be me and know me better.

Which might be the whole point…at least for me because I spent so long caring about trying to care about things that weren’t. Along with what everyone thought about me and my wacky ideas.

Here’s what is actually wacky: caring about what anyone else thinks enough to not listen to one’s own self.

I was trained to care, even when I didn’t. I learned that I should for many wacky reasons. Stir some guilt into the equation and its a wonder I ever stopped.

Life is long enough sometimes…