Safe

Last night, on one of the HBO channels, I watched Along Came Polly, a romantic comedy with Ben Stiller and Jennifer Aniston. I wouldn't call it a great movie, but I found it entertaining, and that's all I was really looking for.

As I watched, however, I found myself identifying a little bit with Reuben, Ben Stiller's character. Reuben was an insurance risk analyst. He assessed people's insurability using software that ranked risks ("swims with great white sharks") versus rewards ("low blood pressure"), a very black and white system that left no room for subjectivity. Reuben knew every risk statistic by heart, and he "managed" his life to avoid becoming one of them. Of course, his life was dull, predictable and safe...until he found his wife having sex with their scuba instructor on the first day of their honeymoon. Wife stays with scuba man and Reuben comes back home, wondering what went wrong. With all of his planning, how did he fail to manage his way around this particular risk? Then, of course, along comes Polly, and, well...I'm sure you can figure out the rest.

So how, you ask, did I identify with Reuben?

Well, I don't intentionally manage my life to avoid becoming a risk statistic. But for the greater part of my 41 years, whenever I faced a fork in the road, I took the safe route, the road more traveled, even as I stretched my neck as far as possible to see what I was missing down that less traveled path.

When faced with a choice between what I wanted and what was safe, I've always chosen the latter. Once in a while I'd get brave and set off in the riskier direction, but I always ended up second guessing myself, backtracking and taking the prudent path. Instead of no risk, no reward, I've lived by no risk, no failure.

And it's worked. I really haven't failed.

Except at living my dream. Big time failure there.

All those years of playing it safe kept me from achieving things that probably were possible. Even now that I'm finally starting to write in earnest, I'm taking the careful, practical route to writing "success." I'm concentrating on writing service-oriented nonfiction articles and business copy. Of course, I can't just write for the sheer joy of it. I really do need to earn some cash, so part of this choice is necessity, not just risk aversion.

But at some point I need to step even further out of my comfort zone and try something different. Take a chance. Maybe fail.

Or not.

Whatever the outcome, I will grow.

I know I'm growing as a writer now, doing just what I'm doing. And I'm proud of that. Really, I am. It's probably why I want to stretch even farther now. I'm having a little success. I'm learning. I'm taking a few chances and I'm having fun. I'm coming alive again.

They say it's never too late. I'm starting to believe that. I'm done wasting even more time, mourning the years I lost by playing it safe. I'm now looking forward to putting myself out there and taking some chances.

No more no risk, no failure.

Time for no risk, no reward.

I want the rewards. I want to earn them. Be proud of them. Take ownership of getting them. I want to stop standing back in awe and wonder at those writers who do step up to the plate and swing that bat as if their lives depended on it. I now know that their lives do depend on it.

And mine does, too.

No one can swing my bat except me. Before I worried about striking out and the ensuing embarrassment. But ya know what? I may have to wait a bit, but I will get another turn at bat. Another chance to swing with all my strength. And ones of these times I just may connect and send that ball right out of the park.

If I don't keep trying, all I'll have is the strikeout. I want the homerun. I want the success.

But I don't need any Polly to get it. I've got all of you! :-) And I've got me, too. That's all I really need.

So, what am I waiting for?