“Do you consider yourself to be a risk taker?”
Up until last night I would have answered without giving much thought to it. Of course I am. I would love to sky dive, Parasail, and any other death defying stunts. I love to travel, want to see more of the world and have always had a need for extremes. But have I? Well, no. I guess I havent. The most extreme I have gone is flying solo across the oceans to a foreign land. But that’s as adventurous as I have gotten, and even that wasn’t very adventurous. I met up with people I knew. It took me a month to work up the courage to go to the grocery store – alone.
Risks, are, well, risky. But I do take them. If you consider getting out of bed every morning, going to work, and coming home a risk – then yes. I take risks. Changing laundry soap requires a two week drawn out process in which I examine the ins and outs, pros and cons – and then, only if the grocery store laundry soap aisle is empty – will I consider changing laundry soaps. It’s a risk – that laundry soap is. Talking to the grocery store clerk is another risk I weigh every time I go shopping. Scouting out the less ‘risky’ check out.
I guess I might not be that big of a risk taker after all.
Im a creature of habit. I do what I do, because its what I know. The people I hang out with think pretty much along the same track as I do, and when someone asks me a question (outside my tiny knit circle) it’s a loaded question – that requires deep thought. I must answer them – how they want me to. I must impress. I must make them accept me, and my answer. And lets not go beyond the superficial stuff please. Don’t call me out in the middle of a crowded room to ask what ocean I drive by and look at every day. Just don’t. Because I wont have the answer. And I will probably never talk to you again.
Im not a risk taker, after all.
I generally think before reacting. Atleast in situations that I am not comfortable with. Often leading to even more awkward situations. Where reacting a few steps behind gets some not so pleasurable results. I buy the same brands, the same foods, and shop the same times. Every Wednesday night, once a week. I could tell you the route I take through the store, and how when someone is blocking the aisle I have to go down – I will take a detour, even if it means tracking ½ way through the store JUST to avoid a certain person.
And yet, I somehow, consider myself to be – a risk taker.
I want to be one of those people who can pack a small bag, stick my thumb out and trek around the world. Solo. Without a care or a fear in the world. But I cant. Because I would never hitch hike – not because I am afraid of it, but because of the fear of risk. The risk of putting someone else out. The risk of having to talk to a stranger. The risk. Of someone asking me what I am doing, and why am I doing it, and explaining all that to a complete stranger? Is not something I care to do.
I suppose you could say that traveling, is a risk in and of itself. But its not really. I travel with a group of people I know well. I cant say I would ever go alone. Infact, I know I wouldn’t. I travel to foreign lands – with a group of people I know well enough that it doesn’t feel so foreign.
I suppose you could say that getting up and going to work – every morning, is a risk. Buying a different laundry soap, is a risk. Talking to a stranger – a risk. In that sense, then yes. I am a risk taker. I get up every morning. I corral unpredictable kids, and drop them off at school. Risks. Risks. Risks. I go to work. I talk with strangers. I write. I put myself out there. These things are all risky, and perhaps – by doing them, I feel like I can sky dive.
By taking risks, that may seem like everyday mundane things to most people – I feel as though I can conquer the world. Sure, changing brands, buying a different scent of laundry soap may not be that big of a deal to anyone. But to me, it’s a calculated risk, with pros and cons – and if I can over come that? Then sure. Why not stick my thumb out there, and hitchhike across the world?