Trial

You can begin again.

Risk aversion. Everyone wants to run. Hide. Dig their head into the sand and wait for it all to just. Go. Away.

And this is the problem we have. Well, some of us have. And let’s be honest, this isn’t a work thing. This isn’t some grand ‘life lesson’ — this is just a fact. Or, rather, a reaction that has become so accepted that we treat it as a fact. Don’t rock the boat. I don’t want to see the the waters. Let me out here.

And why?

I will say this — it feels good to know what is under our feet. To feel that ground and know where the familiar missteps are. You know the terrain. You've kicked your feet around. This is solid and secure and that relationship or job or idea isn’t going anywhere — and for some of us: That is progress.

Crazy, right? I mean, stopping here, and reading that again: The refusal or acceptance of the status quo is movement. Run around in a circle long enough and you can convince yourself the scenery is different. Or, worse yet, that the next revolution will reveal something new.

An accepted delusion. Accepted because, together, looking around, we have tacitly accepted this for all of us. You don’t tell me and I won’t tell you. This is good — this is new. Don’t disturb me and I won’t disturb you. Guys — this is Matrix type stuff here. And we are devouring the steak with complete satisfaction.

The doubts. The fears. The realizations that it can all crumble. The fact that the ground really might not be there prevents us from wanting to even try. We've convinced ourselves that there isn’t anything to try for. It’s maddening in its sadness.

We can begin again.

We can begin again. From nothing. From failures and from successes. That’s all there is. We don't have to give in. We can choose more. We don't need to hide away. Don't be satisfied. Don’t believe the rules. Forget it all — let’s try again.

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