Risk is an interesting thing. It invokes a strong image (for me, at least) of death-defying stunts, of charging into battle or betting your life savings on a horse because the jockey gave it a speedy name like ‘2 Fast 2 Furious.’ Courage does something similar. It carries with it the implication of honour, heroism or justice.
But is that interpretation accurate? Well, sort of. Not really. Maybe. One thing is for sure, it is not a very practical way of thinking, and I don’t believe it sets a useful precedent for how I view my own courage, my own risk.
In truth, risk is all around you. You are always taking risks, although they are often measured and mundane, and therefore don’t register as real risk.
A few summers ago, some friends and I went mountain biking, an inherently risky proposition. I crashed a few times, and banged up my knees and elbows pretty good. A predictable result. Then, we went out for drinks and took another risk by biking home in a rainstorm (inadvisable, very dangerous, please do not attempt).
Despite being foolish, it was refreshing and lovely, and the perfect end to an enjoyable, risky day. I got home, soaking wet and covered in mud. So, I took a shower. In the shower I slipped backward, nearly cracking my head on the edge of the tub. Out of all those dangerous, risky things I did that day, the closest I came to serious harm was in my shower, a place I visit on a daily basis.
Point is, the universe is chaotic, and those of us who have the most conservative outcomes in our risk analysis can still fall victim to sheer random circumstances. For a while, honestly, I found this scary to think about. But the more I did, the more I came to appreciate the liberty that walks hidden in the shadows.
Think of how exciting it is, how impressive we all are, for getting out of bed every day, not knowing what waits for us. I know it sounds a little silly, but I think there is value in recognizing our own little moments of courage, because once identified, we can apply the same principles to something more exciting.
Identify as being brave
Maybe you’ve always wanted to go sea kayaking, but have always been too worried about how deep the water is, or the strength of the currents, or sharks, or whatever else.
Good things to consider, for sure, but are any of them really that much more dangerous than, say, travelling 100 kilometres per hour in a two-ton machine that is hurtling towards another two-ton machine travelling in the opposite direction?
I’d say that no, kayaking is probably no more dangerous, and probably a lot more interesting, than driving a car down the highway. My personal cost-benefit analysis tells me that, comparatively, kayaking sounds like a risk worth taking. Great! How fun is that?!
It can, and should, be applied on a smaller scale as well. It takes courage to stand up and voice your opinions at work. It takes courage to communicate your emotions to your friends. The fear of rejection can be such a burden, and I believe that taking those risks, speaking your mind and not apologizing for who you are, are acts worth recognizing.
The more you begin to see your own courage in your day-to-day life, the more you can start to identify as being brave, and become more comfortable taking those risks.
The inverse is true as well. The more comfortable you become in your ability to take risks, the more comfortable you become in recognizing your limits and rejecting things that you are not ready to approach yet. I know how much I admire someone when they can confidently and clearly state their boundaries. It takes courage, and is ultimately very helpful when building relationships, be they personal or professional.
Of course, everyone will do their own algebra and come up with their own comfort limits. I think it’s so valuable to understand yourself, and to only push yourself in ways that make sense for you. My math, however, tells me this: If something so menial as showering has the potential to kill me, why not push my luck a bit and try to have a little fun along the way?
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