The Calculus of Risk
“Not taking a risk is a risk. That's how I see it, - Robert Redford
Risk calls out to us. It speaks directly to our deepest self, our highest knowing. It says, "come dance with me". It promises nothing but it is the doorway to everything. Everything that really matters. Why? Don't ask me why because I cannot tell you. I only know that it is true. I know that to turn away from risk, is to turn my back on my life. And it doesn’t really matter how good my excuse is. How reasonable it is. It is beyond reason. Risk has a different calculus beyond our everyday reasoning. It is a calculation of the soul, one which understands the variable of the unknown, the not-yet-discovered, the secret pleasures and hidden vistas which our ordinary reasoning always seems to leave out. It has a secret knowledge which eludes our minds but which we feel the truth of in our very being as soon as we get quiet enough to listen.
Ordinary reasoning is done by the mind. We think things through. Or so we think. But we can only think about what we already know, and of course about what we know that we don’t know. But we cannot think about that which we don’t know that we don’t know. And that third category is so fantastically large in relation to our little domain of personal knowledge that to see it clearly for even a fractional second is enough to be forced to admit the absurdity of it. The mind can't reliably conjure up all the variable ways in which a life unfolds, all the branches of possibility which splinter out from each individual moment into the next - which in the next new moment has another grand splintering again, onward, and so forth in an infinite complexity. The mind takes a few branches, branches it has seen before, and it dismisses all the rest as either unimportant or false. It does this without our consent.
It works with what it thinks are the facts at hand. But this is a meager collection of facts out of the whole grand mass. It is a handful of sand from the desert dune, and it is confusing that pitiful palm of grains for the entire desert. But the great dunes inspire something deep in our souls. And they can’t be held in our hands. Only when we let go, tilt our open palm to the wind, and let our little pile return to the great shifting mirage, can we unlock the secret of the desert.
And besides, the mind has concerns that are quite a bit different than that of the soul.
The mind wants to be safe, and comfortable, and it wants assurances that the safety and comfort we feel won’t go away. There's never enough safety and comfort for our minds. Always more money to make, always concerned about holding on to what we've got. More insurance premiums to cover, more shirts in the closet, more declarations of love from our lover. How to keep all this? and then get some more! And it's all very reasonable. It is. And if you've a desire for a reasonable life and want to keep it then you need not read any further.
But is any of this stuff which we think we want so badly, which we can’t seem to let go of and that we won’t easily give up.. Is any of this worth doggedly prioritizing above our innermost yearnings? Ask. And don’t ask your mind because we already know what it thinks. But what does your soul say?
Does your soul feel alight at the thought of a bit more money. Are you happier now that you’ve got some more spending dough? “But, but, but!” the mind interjects.. “just enough so that I can start working on my passions”. Just need a little more cushion, and then ok, yes, then the work really begins! But that day is today. We must jump before we are ready. We must shed the stultifying desire for comfort so that we may realize the passionate desire for living, which makes much higher demands of us. Which requires the bulk of our energy and a singularity of purpose.
It requires that we risk our comfort. That we risk our security. So that we may align ourselves with the inner winds which seek the sail of our daring so that we may set out on upon that great open sea, that sea in which we see our souls reflected in the shifting and rolling waves. Don’t stay on the sands of your birth ground. We weren’t spun from the cosmic dust, brought into being out of the infinite time before our births, just so that we may sit idly by sucking our thumbs by the fire and biding our time in dull comfort until we return to the infinite time after our deaths.
This one tiny note, this flash of bright time, this single blade of grass in the rolling eternal field; this is our life. It is this right now. Only this. And it begs of us to take risks.
Risks which reveal our true nature to us. Risks which show us that folly of our worry. When we surrender to risk, we are honoring our very being. And I’m not talking about false risk. The only risks we need to be pulled by are the risks that are in service of our souls. It need not be over-thought. The soul makes its discernment clear enough. Ask inwardly if this is a risk for growth. If you don’t know - then take it and find out. And there are no guarantees.
Just don't avoid it. That is the biggest risk of all.
