| 5 minute read |
The aspect of safety in security, the monotony of sanctuary, is a primal craving. To exist in a smooth and steady state, nothing to make your heart thump loud and heavy in your chest. Nothing to stop the prickle of sweat tickling your temple warm your whole body in fear. Nothing to make you overthink or second guess, nothing on the table for contemplation. To surrender to the jump off the cliff, tumbling down along the horizon, knowing that something is there to catch you, every time, the safety net of security, of assurance. Does this make the risk worth taking? A perilous fate made more likely to survive? Walking away with no broken bones, no broken spirits. Because no matter how bad of a fall you had, you were caught. The question isn’t how or when we decide to take our leap of faith, it’s whether or not we deploy a safety net or succumb to the ground.
I found myself one afternoon, wanting to sit down and write out all of my options, the different journeys I could venture, Plans A-D, in hopes of bringing some sort of clarity to my fogged anticipation of my twenty-something path of life. And not really to my surprise, they all existed on the pretense of something not working out from the previous plan. If Plan A didn’t work, then Plan B was the obvious next step, but if one part of Plan A didn’t work out then I could sort of move on to Plan C, contingent of course if Plan B was an absolute failure. So I sat, strangled and suffocating by my web of safety nets, as they strung me up against a fate that didn’t seem like my own choice. As I'm gasping and choking for air, calling for help I realized my leap of faith was not into the safety nets, not into my backup plans for my backup plans, but into a risk I would hurl myself into, no safety net included.
As humans, it’s only natural to desire a certain level of safety. This idea has only been drilled into our minds since we were young. Safety in numbers, safety first, better safe than sorry, safety is no accident. It's no surprise that I find such comfort in my “just in case”. But I can’t help but wonder if sometimes our own safety net is really our enemy. An illusion of safety meant to prevent us from diving head first into our own life and smacking into just what we want, just what we need. Tempted into risk-taking by an option disguised as our backup, our default, our comfort. Because in reality is there truly any safety in risk taking? Would you still move forward if nothing was promised?
But consequently, moving forward is something we all must do. As primal as it is for us to feel safe, it is for us to change. And change involves risk taking, so how do we go about it? I’m wrapped up, weaved and bound by my fears, excuses, my insecurities and my indecisiveness. When I find myself in the mood for a shift, I craft up my plans. Jumping safety net to safety net, ensuring the collateral damage is bigger than the reward, tricking myself into thinking that not much will change, that the jump is necessary. I untangle the mess of nets I crafted for myself and I realize the shelter is in the fallout of the risk. To make plans with no backup, no “if this doesn’t work out I’ll just…” because the delusion of the successful risk can get us farther than a risk lined with cop outs. The saying goes ‘reach for the moon and land on a star’, but what if the latter wasn’t an option? I reach for the moon, so I will land on the moon. But say I still fall short. Vulnerable and unprepared in the vast expanse of space. If I'm predisposed to land on a star, I’m blind to the abundance of other opportunities than exist. The star as a safety net, the safety net as a hindrance to a world full of chances. The chance to get beat down, scratched up, become scared and unsure of where to go next is what makes the risk worth taking. To be moved by the fear of potential; for the potential of potential. A step in the right direction is the step off the cliff, trust as the safety net.
Like many other things, this is easier said than done. I write this with many contemplations on my mind, and it’s worth noting that my desire for a safety net, a backup plan, Plan B, is still an extravagant thing. Because besides craving safety, we begin craving something better for us. A sign to hold on to what we know, but a sign to go forward with all the feelings we might carry. One of the popular slogans is that safety is no accident, and I believe this still reigns true. Because finding safety in yourself, to find faith in your trust is the only net you need. Because regardless if something catches you after the leap off the cliff, what is meant to be will be, and that's no accident.
to risk is to live,
natalie <3
