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No Risk No Reward

What’s that age-old-timey naval saying? No, not the one about belly buttons. The other one.


A cold sweat. That’s how it always starts. Your skin becomes R.L. Stein-certifiably-approved, in its almost entirely goose-fleshed absorption. You know the feeling, right before doing something you’re absolutely terrified of doing. Asking out your crush, which is the definition of “A Risky Text”. Going in for a job interview, when everything is on the line. Quitting your job, with or without a fallback. Moving to a new city. Or even a new country.


Whatever path is that you’re about to embark on, just know that I’m proud of you. Deciding to take the plunge in the first place is the hardest step of all. Everything after that is comparatively much, much easier. Even if it doesn’t feel like it on the outskirts of the outset.


People seem to assume that your comfort zone is a bad thing. Or at least those same people are oftentimes wanting you to get out of your said comfort zone. Shouldn’t you be the one to decide whether you will, or not? I think you should. Your comfort zone is where it’s at for a reason, and a good reason at that. It's yours and yours alone.


Taking risks is an odd sort of duck. If you never take risks, you’ll be perpetually wrapped up in rolling ball of bubble wrap. Everyone loves popping that bubble wrap. If for some reason you know of a person who weirdly doesn’t like popping bubble wrap, then they’re definitely a sociopath. Mad-hard red flag. If you find yourself avoiding risks like the plague, then you’ll never get to pop any of those bubbles. Why? Cuz you’ve also kid gloves on. Permanently.


If you take too many risks, you may be overly reckless and in some cases, downright destructive. I fully admit that I have a very addictive personality. Which can sometimes get me into trouble. Just like my mouth.


Now, I’ve never been to Vegas, but what I do know is that if I went, I’d be that person. Yup. You know the one I’m talking about. I’d lose all my money. Down to the last dime. I also know that the only way I could avoid absolute abject poverty by visiting the windowless Sin City, would be by taking zero plastic. No credit cards, or debit cards of any kind. Just cold, hard cash. The moment I bottom out, and I will bottom out, that’s for certain, that’s the end of the line. Playing slots or Poker in Vegas, with a finite amount of funds, is a safe risk. I get the full adrenaline rush experience, with none of the total failure and utter soul-crushing despair. I’m also not smart enough to count cards, but I wish I were. Tis to dream.


What’s that age-old-timey naval saying? No, not the one about belly buttons. The other one. Like about

boats and water? Help me out here. Ships weren’t meant to stay in the harbour. That’s not what ships are built for. It’s a great point, that I oftentimes find myself subscribing to. Ships are meant to sail the seven seas. No matter how scary those seas my seem upon first watery blush. And sometimes those ships that force themselves out of the harbour, perhaps they pass other ships in the night. I dunno. Something like that.


Maybe I just got a thing for ship metaphors.

Mary-Jane



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