Have you ever thought of yourself as a risk taker? You are. By the very virtue of being here and reading this article, I believe you qualify. Being on the net at all involves risks of one kind or another. In addition to risking the health of your computer with the growing number of vicious viruses out there, there are plenty of reasons to be worried about hackers and unsavory sorts. Just looking at lists that includes outrageous channels on IRC or some of the newsgroups out there requires a strong constitution at times. At the very least (or the most depending on your perspective), you may even put some of your relationships with non-computer people a bit more on the line as the gap really grows between the haves and the have-nots. Perhaps you have seen that glazed look in people's eyes that seems to come from the incongruency between what the media portrays about the net and what you may be telling them. It takes a strong friendship to withstand that kind of test.
In the past, I have confused the concept of gambling with risk-taking. When I was in Australia, I went to a Casino for the first time. There, while others were high rollers, I was content to spin a wheel a few times with a friend teaching me what to do. In the Vegas airport, slot machines took a couple of dollars of my nickels, and at the dog races, I tend to make thoughtful $2 bets to show. The thrill of betting was really only enjoyable as a fun thing to do with friends while people-watching.
On the other hand, I tend to gamble big time by believing in people and the wonders of the net. I am usually racing to the front of the line to try new software, chomping at the bit to explore new activities and continually creating opportunities to connect with others, even virtual strangers. I risk sharing my views even though they are not always popular and I jump into creative outlets (like publishing a love song), with absolutely no previous experience.
I learned a big lesson the last few weeks about taking risks that also involved letting go, in this case literally. My 5 year old son was riding with training wheels and he thought he might just be ready to take them off. I agreed. Feeling rather proud of myself for taking it on myself, instead of waiting for my husband to come home, kidlette and I set off on this new adventure.
Kneepads and helmet adding a bit of insurance, I held the back of his shirt like a harness and ran along side and behind him. He flip-flopped from one side to the other with only his shirt saving him from the ground. I imagined to myself that he would be 42 himself at this rate, but continued to huff and puff along the way with him. We made a good start, I told him as we heading for a sit to rest. Later, we would show his dad this training-wheelless flip-flopping with pride.
The next day was also gorgeous and I set it up to go visit a dear friend to continue with this bike riding journey in the park. My friend, who had no children of his own, was thrilled with the idea. He patiently watched me as I helped my son with his riding. Granted, kidlette did seem to be doing a bit better, (the sideways riding was less, I think), but he had a LONG way to go.
Terry, in his gentle way, asked if he could give it a shot. He explained to my son that he would hold onto the back of the bike until he got his balance then would let him go. He emphasized that he would tell him when he let go. I watched as Terry let go in a matter of minutes. HOW COULD THIS BE? There was my son, riding down the path by himself when just moments before he was riding sideways with HELP.
I have to say that I did the best I could to control myself and only shrieked a few times as I clearly saw trees reaching out to grab my baby and reupholster his skin with bark. I was so proud I could burst and my son was even prouder. I have to laugh at myself because it was clear to see that I had inadvertently made it harder for him to ride independently, even though I thought I was doing all the right things. It was when I risked letting someone else in and risked letting go that we all ended up the big winners.
One of my favorite sayings that you may have seen before but is always nice to remember, is: "A ship is safe in the harbor, but that is not at all what ships are built for." I hope to include some more uncharted waters in my net cruise and launchings in life. HORSE RACES, here I come!