Aversion

Most people like to think that they're brave and adventurous, and they may be...in some aspects of their lives. Yet, everyone tends to have something they fear, some risk they are afraid to take.


In finance, investors are categorized according to their ability to accept risk. If your aversion to risk is high, you end up putting your money into low-yield investments because, then if the market crashes, well, you're only out a little (though sometimes even a little can be a lot). If you seek risk and want greater rewards, then you invest in higher yield products. Pretty simple.


Risk aversion, though, applies to all aspects of life, not just investing. For instance, I am terribly afraid of heights and refuse to jump out of a perfectly good airplane no matter how amazing an experience sky diving may be to someone else. I am risk averse when it comes to my physical safety. I will climb to the top of the Eiffel Tower, the CN Tower, the Space Needle, the Empire State Building just to say that I did but you won't ever see me jumping from the perceived safety of their observation decks.


Some people won't speak in public. Oh, they're great one-on-one or in small groups but the idea of being "up there" talking is more than they can bear. For me, I have no such problem. Sure I'm nervous before talking to groups but not to the point of terror. I have a low aversion to that risk--yes, risk, because at any time I could fall off the stage, forget my lines, stumble or stutter, or any number of other horrors could befall me.


Think about the last time you asked someone out on a date. Maybe it was recently or maybe it's been years or maybe you've never taken the opportunity to be the initiator. Maybe your risk aversion coupled with their risk aversion has kept you from being with someone wonderful. While one person finds it less frightening to ask another out on a date, you might find the prospect of being alone entirely more appealing. Don't blame it on the guy. Men are just as averse to risk as women, even when it comes to asking for a date.


No matter the type of risk, it's a hard thing to do. Risk asks you to step where you're not comfortable, where there is no safety line or net to break your fall. The pain of taking the risk is too great, greater than the pain of maintaining the status quo. So I will continue this path, until the risk is less painful or my ability to take the risk becomes greater. I don't know how long that will take nor what condition I'll be in then.  


I replay that scene in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade where Indy must take the leap of faith from the lion's head but I am too afraid that the stone path is not there, that I will fall, that I will fail. I am too afraid of the unknown. 


Surprised? Did you think I was fearless? That I never balk on the precipice? You're right. I have taken many risks in the past. I have packed up my life and moved to a new place, knowing no one or few people, with no job and no prospects. I let love into my heart knowing that I might be hurt...again. I have stood at the edge of my life and declared that fear will not win the war in spite of any battle outcomes to the contrary.


Right now, today, I feel paralyzed by fear. Today I accept a life of discord and loneliness and stress and physical pain. I see what you see right now, looking at my life. I am not blind, just afraid. I beg God for a path, knowing that I must take the steps. I want to believe that the risk is worth it yet those same feelings I get when I stand at the top of a very tall building or in front of a hostile crowd or watch the stock market lose all my money or see the love of my life walk away, all those feelings suffocate me.


You, my friend, cannot save me. This is the part of the journey I must make on my own. Do I wish I had a companion to walk alongside, to encourage me and love me, to tell me that it will be okay? Yes, desperately. But that is not to be. Aversion to risk plays a part in all our lives and I understand, though you may think I don't, that at this moment it is impossible to overcome. 


I will march on, put on a good front and pretend to the masses that I am fine. A few will know the truth (those of you who read this blog, my truest friends and family) that risk and fear are decisively winning this battle.