Dear reader, Human beings move toward pleasure and away from pain, right? Like fun we do. We often move toward pain. We just coat it with pleasure. We make even the prospect of pain into a pleasure! A whole lot of our “fun” is in taking risks. Risks with a high chance of pain.
There is a thin but definitely extant line between recklessness and stretching the boundaries of our abilities in any area. Like most of today's responders, I have done stupid, reckless, and dangerous things, mostly to prove, as you said, that I could do it. (I almost said "I alone could do it", but that verges on being political.) I was fortunate to survive and learn the essential lesson that we must each explore our abilities, learn our current limits, and structure our efforts to expand those limits so that we maximize our chances of success and minimize the danger of harm to ourselves and those to whom we might be important. The critical change for me was becoming happy with myself, realizing that I needn't prove anything to anyone else, and accepting that there would always be things I couldn't do but that there would never be anything I couldn't try if I chose to. The choices I make now are better, more realistic and lead to new learnings. I've also become comfortable with the fact that one day I will die, and I have no fear of that.
Thanks Deborah. Part of the serenity is being able to take advantage of resources like you and your commenters; perspective is essential, especially when one lives in "interesting times."
Yes, I've refused risks everyone else was taking. I've always been very safety conscious, a trait born of the skilled trade I worked in for 5 decades and my time as a paramedic years ago. For example, I was usually the guy looking out for everyone else on trail rides when we had to ride "roadside" to get somewhere, calling out traffic approaching from behind, dogs lurking, etc.
As to declining risk, a couple of times I chose a different path from other riders descending very steep hills or terrain, though I'll have to admit my concern was more for my horse's safety than my own. Broken leg = no horse.
As to accepting risk, well, what goods a Quarter Horse that can clock 45+ MPH if you don't let him stretch his legs occasionally? My first one was a 7-year-old rocket with a lit fuse. All he wanted to do was run. And that was fine with me. We just did it in appropriate settings. Had that boy for almost 30 years before his time came. No injuries to either of us, though he sometimes had more sense than me, it seemed.
Ha, ha, at least I try and make you feel good or at least better, more clear. I do seem to have a fair number of therapists subscribing. I’m not exactly sure what that says about me but I will try to put a positive spin and it.
I think risk-taking is an important part of growing up for everyone. But it also comes into play throughout adulthood, just in a different form.
As a boy, it is only natural ... can I make it (jump) across that creek? Can I climb that tree? Do I push that button that says "Don't push?" It was baked into the DNA, I suppose, and I'm pretty sure it was testosterone-driven. But that's how you live ... and learn. You take risks. You fall down. You get up. You find out what you're made of ... especially the getting up part.
As you mature into adulthood, the types of risks change. Can I afford this mortgage? Do I make this investment?
Also, risk appears in relationships, especially as a man. Understand, as a man "rejection" becomes an inherent part of life when it comes to romance. Every approach to girls/women is a risk ... the risk of hearing "no." To some young guys, hearing "no" is difficult, sometimes even shattering. So you find out what you're made of. Why am I not good enough? Am I not good-looking enough? Is there a loser "L" printed on my forehead? '
For some guys, it can be shattering. Others grow cynical. But others, including myself here, you move on and build your self-value. That's the "getting up" part of the relationship dynamic. And as I see it a very important one for men.
I'm sure the same holds true for women. I just can't speak to that, but I'm sure its a similar process. It took a very long time for me to realize what "emotional intelligence" truly meant.
I agree with Olusegun. Everyone takes risks of one sort or another. If we are honest with ourselves, there is at least one item on the list that we have been associated with.
I have always wondered why so many people are thrilled by living on the edge - risking so much. I do remember how much I loved things like intense roller coaster rides when I was very young. Then one day, it lost its appeal. A friend asked me why. I wasn't sure, but maybe I had become old enough to visualize myself being thrown out of the car and into a tree.
When I was 17 or 18, I had a motorcycle accident. My beloved Honda Super Hawk caught a patch of "black ice" and suddenly the bike and I were separated - both of us were spinning around as we slid down the dark road. I'll never forget the shine of the headlight shooting around in circles in the trees.
My Dad had warned me not to ride that winter night. But I KNEW I would be OK. Because we don't think bad stuff will happen to us. Not me. I'm special. As you said: "I can handle it." I learned that it is bullshit.
A couple of years later I was commuting to college on Highway Route 91. It was that winter four o'clock getting dark quick time of day. A sudden snow squall was creating white out conditions. The highway was becoming an ice packed super slippery surface. I had reduced speed dramatically. Up ahead I saw a "pile up" of cars. I tapped the brakes, trying to slow down...and not spin out. It was hopeless. The brakes were useless. I slammed into the pile up. But phew. I was apparently OK. Just pain in my wrists from slamming into the dashboard. (I am old enough to be pre-airbag).
And then, it occurred to me that there are probably vehicles behind me who can't stop either....wham! A pickup slammed into me. Phew again. I was intact.
And then, it occurred to me that MORE vehicles could be coming!. I tried to exit. The doors were crushed closed. I was kicking them in an effort to escape as I felt the lesser impacts of car after car hitting the ones behind me. I was OK. Grateful beyond words. I crawled out a window to see that my car looked like an accordion.
Ask me how I drive now. After all these years, how do you think I feel when someone tailgates me or cuts in front of me at 75 MPH? The point of these two tales of near death are that I was fortunate and learned. Some accuse me of driving too carefully. My response is: "How do you feel about dying a terrible death or a painful disablement - or causing such for others?"
Old guy to idiots who drive like they are in a video game: It is not a game.
Thought provoking. This made me realize that I'm an exception to the rule. I've always been risk averse when it comes to my body. It stems in part, I think, from my childhood when my role was the "good son" as opposed to my wilder older sister. You've really made me think!
I think you are omitting a reason young men take risks. They do it to attract women. There are women who are attracted to bad boy risk takers. I submit that if most women were attracted to solid, stolid, risk averse men, men would adopt that behavior. I blame the primate brain. A male strong enough to take risks and survive is attractive to a significant portion of the female population.
Yes, I have refused. However, I was going to say "I am risk averse" until you listed the risk types; which was much broader than my understanding of risk. Now, I know that everyone probably categorises risk differently. I enjoyed this piece 👍
There is a thin but definitely extant line between recklessness and stretching the boundaries of our abilities in any area. Like most of today's responders, I have done stupid, reckless, and dangerous things, mostly to prove, as you said, that I could do it. (I almost said "I alone could do it", but that verges on being political.) I was fortunate to survive and learn the essential lesson that we must each explore our abilities, learn our current limits, and structure our efforts to expand those limits so that we maximize our chances of success and minimize the danger of harm to ourselves and those to whom we might be important. The critical change for me was becoming happy with myself, realizing that I needn't prove anything to anyone else, and accepting that there would always be things I couldn't do but that there would never be anything I couldn't try if I chose to. The choices I make now are better, more realistic and lead to new learnings. I've also become comfortable with the fact that one day I will die, and I have no fear of that.
What a beautiful and moving response, Dave.
Thank you.
I am so glad you are happy with who you are
as you venture forward seeking new learning and new growth.
I feel the calm serenity you have achieved
at the same time as you are vitally engaged in the world.
Thanks Deborah. Part of the serenity is being able to take advantage of resources like you and your commenters; perspective is essential, especially when one lives in "interesting times."
Yes, I've refused risks everyone else was taking. I've always been very safety conscious, a trait born of the skilled trade I worked in for 5 decades and my time as a paramedic years ago. For example, I was usually the guy looking out for everyone else on trail rides when we had to ride "roadside" to get somewhere, calling out traffic approaching from behind, dogs lurking, etc.
As to declining risk, a couple of times I chose a different path from other riders descending very steep hills or terrain, though I'll have to admit my concern was more for my horse's safety than my own. Broken leg = no horse.
As to accepting risk, well, what goods a Quarter Horse that can clock 45+ MPH if you don't let him stretch his legs occasionally? My first one was a 7-year-old rocket with a lit fuse. All he wanted to do was run. And that was fine with me. We just did it in appropriate settings. Had that boy for almost 30 years before his time came. No injuries to either of us, though he sometimes had more sense than me, it seemed.
Yes on occasion and in appropriate settings
that mix of lightning and dynamite most assuredly needed
to stretch his long limbs at full tilt, and with a lit fuse!
You were in that beautiful horse's care and keeping
for almost 30 years, M.
No injuries to either of you.
Thank God that at least some of his good sense
wore off on you!
Unfortunately we are addicted to ourselves. Neurotransmitters rule. We have to manage our consumption.
Well, Stanley, you may be addicted to you
but you aren't alone.
You have quite the flock of us
who can't get enough!
And no,
we are not about to manage our consumption
since your poetic powers of realization
show no signs of abating!
Ha, ha, at least I try and make you feel good or at least better, more clear. I do seem to have a fair number of therapists subscribing. I’m not exactly sure what that says about me but I will try to put a positive spin and it.
you go deep
that's why we subscribe
we are fellow deep sea divers :)
On it. I hate I can’t edit.
I also hate that I can't edit
I see the flaw the very moment I post
OOPS :)
"addicted to ourselves" Perfect assessment.
Thanks!
We used to call them adrenaline junkies.
"The only people who know where the edge is, are those who have gone over it." Hunter S, Thompson.
Herr,
Haha yeah I remember that term: adrenaline junkies!
And your quote is perfect.
The most moving passage in The Catcher In The Rye
is to me where Holden says all he wants to be is
the catcher in the rye
to save the little children who are running through the rye
from going over the cliff.
When I was a teenager I told my Mom
that's what I want to be when I grow up.
Haha I never grew up,
but that is what I have been doing all these years.
There is evidence that you are doing a great job.
that brought tears
thank you, geo
Careful, I'll fall in love with you.
you are too delightful
thank you
55555
I think risk-taking is an important part of growing up for everyone. But it also comes into play throughout adulthood, just in a different form.
As a boy, it is only natural ... can I make it (jump) across that creek? Can I climb that tree? Do I push that button that says "Don't push?" It was baked into the DNA, I suppose, and I'm pretty sure it was testosterone-driven. But that's how you live ... and learn. You take risks. You fall down. You get up. You find out what you're made of ... especially the getting up part.
As you mature into adulthood, the types of risks change. Can I afford this mortgage? Do I make this investment?
Also, risk appears in relationships, especially as a man. Understand, as a man "rejection" becomes an inherent part of life when it comes to romance. Every approach to girls/women is a risk ... the risk of hearing "no." To some young guys, hearing "no" is difficult, sometimes even shattering. So you find out what you're made of. Why am I not good enough? Am I not good-looking enough? Is there a loser "L" printed on my forehead? '
For some guys, it can be shattering. Others grow cynical. But others, including myself here, you move on and build your self-value. That's the "getting up" part of the relationship dynamic. And as I see it a very important one for men.
I'm sure the same holds true for women. I just can't speak to that, but I'm sure its a similar process. It took a very long time for me to realize what "emotional intelligence" truly meant.
Jim,
I see from the important insights you share here
that I need to include constructive risk in my analysis.
Those cases where we are testing ourselves
in order to grow and become stronger.
And I see more clearly from what you have shared
the painful risk of rejection a male takes
every time he summons the courage
to approach a girl/woman.
I agree with you on the centrality
of his getting up after being devastated,
but sometimes as you say the man is shattered.
In my view it is far harder to be a man
than to be a woman,
but both take a great deal of emotional intelligence.
Thank you for contributing to mine.
I agree with Olusegun. Everyone takes risks of one sort or another. If we are honest with ourselves, there is at least one item on the list that we have been associated with.
I have always wondered why so many people are thrilled by living on the edge - risking so much. I do remember how much I loved things like intense roller coaster rides when I was very young. Then one day, it lost its appeal. A friend asked me why. I wasn't sure, but maybe I had become old enough to visualize myself being thrown out of the car and into a tree.
When I was 17 or 18, I had a motorcycle accident. My beloved Honda Super Hawk caught a patch of "black ice" and suddenly the bike and I were separated - both of us were spinning around as we slid down the dark road. I'll never forget the shine of the headlight shooting around in circles in the trees.
My Dad had warned me not to ride that winter night. But I KNEW I would be OK. Because we don't think bad stuff will happen to us. Not me. I'm special. As you said: "I can handle it." I learned that it is bullshit.
A couple of years later I was commuting to college on Highway Route 91. It was that winter four o'clock getting dark quick time of day. A sudden snow squall was creating white out conditions. The highway was becoming an ice packed super slippery surface. I had reduced speed dramatically. Up ahead I saw a "pile up" of cars. I tapped the brakes, trying to slow down...and not spin out. It was hopeless. The brakes were useless. I slammed into the pile up. But phew. I was apparently OK. Just pain in my wrists from slamming into the dashboard. (I am old enough to be pre-airbag).
And then, it occurred to me that there are probably vehicles behind me who can't stop either....wham! A pickup slammed into me. Phew again. I was intact.
And then, it occurred to me that MORE vehicles could be coming!. I tried to exit. The doors were crushed closed. I was kicking them in an effort to escape as I felt the lesser impacts of car after car hitting the ones behind me. I was OK. Grateful beyond words. I crawled out a window to see that my car looked like an accordion.
Ask me how I drive now. After all these years, how do you think I feel when someone tailgates me or cuts in front of me at 75 MPH? The point of these two tales of near death are that I was fortunate and learned. Some accuse me of driving too carefully. My response is: "How do you feel about dying a terrible death or a painful disablement - or causing such for others?"
Old guy to idiots who drive like they are in a video game: It is not a game.
Bill,
I love your summary: "It is not a game."
I love this whole paragraph:
"My Dad had warned me not to ride that winter night.
But I KNEW I would be OK.
Because we don't think bad stuff will happen to us.
Not me. I'm special.
As you said: "I can handle it."
I learned that it is bullshit."
Yes, we ALL think we are special.
WE will be fine.
But I, too, can see the shine
of your motorcycle headlight
shooting around in circles in the trees...
I am so glad you survived
both close calls.
And that you take in stride
the derision of those who seek to shame you
for protecting yourself by driving safely
and thus protecting others from harm as well.
I salute you.
Deborah,
Thought provoking. This made me realize that I'm an exception to the rule. I've always been risk averse when it comes to my body. It stems in part, I think, from my childhood when my role was the "good son" as opposed to my wilder older sister. You've really made me think!
David,
I never thought of how a sibling could make us risk averse.
Yes indeed haha there are definite benefits to having a wilder sibling!
Whatever level they rebelled on,
we not only look good by comparison
but we learn from their catastrophes.
And we also learn how to stay close
with people who are our opposites.
One of my older brothers is a Communist.
I am a conservative, but we don't debate.
Instead we closely share our common ground
in poetry, in music, in loving people of all races.
It gives me joy, David,
that my letter on risk really made you think.
Thank you for your response--it made me think, too!
I think you are omitting a reason young men take risks. They do it to attract women. There are women who are attracted to bad boy risk takers. I submit that if most women were attracted to solid, stolid, risk averse men, men would adopt that behavior. I blame the primate brain. A male strong enough to take risks and survive is attractive to a significant portion of the female population.
Fred,
Yes, I hadn't thought of this dimension
of why some young men take risks:
to attract women.
It is sad but true that some women
are attracted to bad boy risk takers.
Those are not the strong women, however.
They are either the bad girls
or the codependents who find bad boys hot
but believe they can save them:)
A strong woman seeks a solid, stolid man
who is strong enough
to resist taking self damaging risks
but who is ready, willing and capable
to take the NECESSARY risks
to protect his woman, his children, his country, and himself
in that order.
Yes, I have refused. However, I was going to say "I am risk averse" until you listed the risk types; which was much broader than my understanding of risk. Now, I know that everyone probably categorises risk differently. I enjoyed this piece 👍
Olusegun,
You raise an important insight I had not thought of:
that we all categorize risk differently.
My concept of risk includes the entire spectrum
of self damaging activities we engage in.
Risking our health, happiness and spiritual well being
by doing things we know ahead of time
are likely to harm us badly if not destroy us,
is a form of gambling
much like playing Russian roulette.
My goal was for each of us to ask ourselves:
Where am I gambling?
I am glad you enjoyed my exploration of risk.
We are always learning more about it as we live,
and I am learning from each of my readers' responses.
Thank you for contributing yours.