Risk is Essential
When I got married last Summer, I inherited a cat. I have not historically been a cat person. I have a subtle cat allergy, and swollen eyes are not a good look for me. But this cat was different. And my wife loved her. Eventually, I grew to love Neblina too-unequivocally.
As long as I’ve known her, Neblina has been timid. When we had an upright grand piano, it took months for her to work up the courage to climb on top of it. After we got married, and she moved into our new apartment, she hid in the closet for days, only gradually venturing out.
So when we moved to La Crosse and saw that she had a new boldness, it was a surprise. In our new apartment, there was no timidity. She let us know that every square inch was part of her kingdom. Ascending seven-foot bookcases was no great feat for our newly-enthroned warrior queen. But the most profound change was going outside.
In Minneapolis, Neblina did not go outside. We let her out on the deck once; it was stressful for all parties. But here we’ve been letting her out more frequently and for longer. Sometimes, she makes us nervous with her boldness because she seems to want to jump down from our second story patio and attack the birds and bugs below. She walks right up to the edge, and sometimes it seems like she’s going to go over it. She is no longer risk-averse.
Last week I wrote about discipline as an essential part of growth. This week I want to highlight another one: risk.
Growth requires risk.
Risk is what stretches us beyond what we know. Risk expands our view of what is possible. And what is possible for us.
One of my favorite conversations to have as a music teacher is the “recital conversation.” A student is afraid of performing in front of other people. They are nervous about playing for strangers, but also their family and friends. I encourage them to try it. Usually, they are so glad they did.
I think all of us have some risk, large or small, that we know would help us grow. Moving has been risky for Jenna and me, respectively and collectively, and we have already seen growth. Jenna is being pushed harder than ever in her classes, but she’s been learning how to be successful. I have the opportunity and responsibility to get up each day and make something productive that will provide for us, and the last week has given me some good leads.
But it can be hard to distinguish between growth-inducing risks and recklessness.
This is why we need a mentor.
Neblina is not left to wander on our deck alone. We watch her and give her frantic feedback when she is about to make a leap she should not.
My students are not alone when they perform a recital. We select a piece within their ability, and I frequently accompany them on stage.
In my pursuit of building this business, I have learned so much from books, podcasts, blogs, and other resources. They are my virtual mentors.
So here are two questions:
What risk should you be taking to help you grow?
Who is a mentor that will help you?