Risk

Today is my mother’s birthday. She has been gone since the end of 2017, but every year, on her birthday, I have a cup of Bailey’s and coffee. I’ll have to run to the liquor store today to get the Bailey’s, since there is none in our bar.

I’m writing about risk on my mother’s birthday for a number of reasons. In my mother’s younger years, she was risk-averse. She was no daredevil, but she was tough. She wasn’t a risk-taker, but she knew how to take care of people after failed risks. However, as she grew older, she took more risks, and she cheered other people’s risks. She cheered when my brother chose to leave his job and start his own business. She cheered when a doctor decided to do surgery on my dad’s kidney…an operation he had only performed in the field of war. It was ultimately successful, but it was risky. She cheered when people dared to leave bad job situations or bad marriages…even if it meant they might have to experience a little temporary pain. She cheered when Coach Saban opted for the Crimson Tide to execute a successful onside kick against Clemson in the National Championship…a risk that definitely paid off.

Another reason I’m writing about risk on her birthday? Some people who are close to me have taken some risks lately, and I am applauding them. Do you want to know why? It’s difficult to take risks. Often, sticking with the status quo is far more comfortable than stepping out and trying something new. I have two friends who left comfortable jobs in the past year. Was it easy? No. It was downright scary for them, but after years with the same employers, they knew it wasn’t going to get better where they were. They took a risk and moved on. One of them was even unemployed for a time, but he landed on his feet, in a much better place than before.

I was just watching the latest episode of Ted Lasso (Season 4, Episode 5), and without giving anything away, I will tell you that he shared a quote from Anais Nin:

And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.

Think about that. Sometimes, it’s simply more painful to stay where you are than to venture out into the unknown. I have another friend who is about to leave a job that is squashing her. Just like my mother, I’m cheering for my friend. I’m cheering her on to greatness. Will it be difficult? For sure, but it will likely be less difficult than staying where she is. I think she knows that. I think she is ready to take a leap of faith and deal with a little pain before she blossoms.

Happy Birthday to my mother. I know she would be cheering too. Tonight, I’ll drink a Bailey’s and coffee toast to my sweet mother’s memory, and in my mind, I’ll hear her cheering on the people who have chosen to blossom instead of remaining tight in a bud.