Take A Chance
The topic of risk has been hot lately. Maybe it is age, maybe it is experience, maybe both, but it seems as if people are more cautious nowadays. This is simply an observation, said without judgement, but it makes me wonder: where has all our courage gone? Naturally, with the term “shelter in place” dominating our lives, whether against a microscopic but very determined virus or a madman in aisle three with multiple firearms, I cannot and do not blame anyone for a changed world view. Dampened enthusiasm for facing the challenges inherent to risk-taking is understandable. The willingness to risk our lives has certainly been collectively tested.
Yet I am saddened that the one solitary life each of us has been given is feeling such constraint. In our efforts to feel safe, things have been lost. Children don’t talk to strangers, even when walking next to their adults, and thus do not learn the upsides of meeting and learning to trust people new to them. Safer that way. But limiting. There is risk in putting yourself “out” on the dating sites (or in person!). Better not to. Safer that way. But limiting. And what if the attempt to get to know the “new kid” (or employee or whoever) goes wrong, whether from push-back by the older kids or rejection by this person? Better not to. Safer that way.
Yet doesn’t each of us have dreams? Ideas in our heads that would take some work, sure, but which would be so cool to make real? Risk-taking is not all bad. I would love to take up traveling to, well, almost anywhere again. I would like to meet someone to do fun stuff with. What would it be like to join a group that does interesting things? But I’m shy. I’m fearful. It might not work out. I might get hurt.
To which I say, “take a chance!” Chance, if you think about it, is a form of risk. Gamblers are lured to the gaming tables by it. Lovers, too, during those heady days of early romance. In a way, we are chancing all manner of things every time we push back the covers and bounce out of bed to face the new day.
But the demands on our bodies, our emotions, our souls can absolutely be daunting. I get it. Taking chances is, well, chancey. Things don’t always work out. My body and heart have plenty of scars to prove that fact. Some pathways seem too impossible. Why bother trying something risky if it’s just going to fail.
How can we get back to those intrepid days, before we lost our nerve? I think I might have found one usable idea. Recently when I was pondering that phrase, “take a chance,” I noticed the first word in the phrase. To “take” means to decide to acquire or gain. To reach for and hold. To receive. It is an active verb, not passive. It imparts a sense of control over what it is we are taking–in this case, a chance. There is a lot of choice that goes along with the action of taking. So, while whatever represents “chance” dances around us, helter-skelter and often unknown or recognized, we have the very real power of choice over what we are willing to reach for and what we want to do about it. It’s like that story where a boat can be pushed by all manner and strength of winds, but it is the sailor’s knowledge how to set the sails that dictates where that boat will go.
“Taking a chance” implies having the moxie to try something at the risk of having it not work out. Chance is such a completely uncertain mystery. But your choice whether to open yourself to that unknown is somehow almost holy. You never really know where it will go, which makes the going a little scary. The courage to go anyhow teaches us things that we cannot get by not trying. What’s the fun in challenging yourself if you already know the outcome?
So when anyone says, “I’ll take a chance on...” they are employing a very tangible act (choosing) that directly impacts the uncertainties of chance. And that, I believe, is a powerful thing to remember. We have the capacity to shed our fears and start moving through our days again like the warriors we actually are.
