Courage and Risk
Every December 31st, our family does some sort of small ritual. Some years we give each other a wish for the next year: ”My wish for you is to find time to paint,” “My wish for you is to find balance and time to rest.” This year we each put forth: one thing we are grateful for, one thing we want to let go of, and one thing we want to invite in.
My son, Luke, jumped in: “I’ll go first. I want to invite in risk.”
Wow. We all stopped. Wow! Just saying those words sounded risky! I was startled by the simplicity and candor, the clarity and self-knowledge. How courageous it is to consciously choose to go towards those things that scare us—to risk. To risk in order to grow, to do good, to expand ourselves, to experience more, to connect, to do the right thing, to be vulnerable, to love. I was a little jealous, honestly, of that courage. I blurted, “I want that! I want to risk, to be brave!” I’m far too complacent and cosy in my life and routine. I admire Luke.
I think of jumping out of airplanes, climbing mountains, dancing in public! I think of quotidian risks: raising our hands, volunteering, going first, disagreeing, asking someone out, saying ‘no,’ saying ‘yes,’ protecting someone, speaking up rather than letting fear leave us speechless. I think of the heroes who have marched in peace, spoken out for justice, risked their lives, lost their lives.
In this blog about communication, this one realm, there are countless ways to risk. Standing up in front of any audience is a risk.
How can we find that courage?
Of course, it’s daunting! It can be terrifying to talk to a stranger, to feel the pressure of perfection and expectation, to take a risk in front of many, to make ourselves vulnerable.
But what is at risk if we do not speak out? What is at risk in our homes, in our workplaces, in our world, if our voices are silent? What jobs are lost? What lessons untold and unlearned? What relationships left to ossify? What ideas never considered? What heartbreak caused? What journeys not taken? What gifts not received? What movements left to inertia? What opportunities squandered? What regrets held?
So today, maybe a small risk—hold the door open, sit with a stranger in the lunch room. And tomorrow, maybe we speak to them…