I have a tendancy to take the path of least resistance. The middle of the road is where I’m most comfortable, so that’s where I tend to stay. When I buy something, it’s never the most expensive and never the least expensive. Why we built our first house, it was designed in shades of brown. In Street Fighter, I was always Ryu. With a few exceptions I’ve avoided risk whenever possible. Recently though, a few people in my life have exemplified the value of risk and it’s got me thinking.

The first is a coworker. He left Statusfirm to pursue his own ambitions. On the risk spectrum, leaving your job to pursue your dreams has to be right up at the top. Yet, to me at least, not following through is the bigger risk. There is certainly a lot to be said for a safe corporate job. It’s easy enough to sit back, receiving regualar paycheques, and watch the world go by. It’s easier still to sit on an idea and, years later when someone else does it, think to yourself “that could have been me, that was my idea. I should be a millionaire.” There’s no risk there, just self-pity and remorse. Chance are you would have failed had you tried, so it’s far safer to sit back gathering paycheques and waiting for someone else to try on your behalf. Failing is hard, and blaming others for following through on your idea is far too easy.

The other is my buddy Sean. Sean quit school, and moved from Edmonton to Vancouver to pursue his dream of making it in a band. School wasn’t making Sean happy, but had he continued on he could have comfortably passed (he had a high GPA). He could have easily gotten a safe job. He could have easily spent evenings strumming an acoustic, writing silly songs and wondering “what if.” There’s no shame in that, it’s what most sane people choose. But Sean chose to risk it all on the hope that he could find true happiness doing what he loved. It wasn’t easy (it still isn’t) and the chances of success are truly dismal. Yet, when Sean’s old and decrepid and he thinks back on his life, he’ll be able to say “I did everything I could to be happy, and chose an exciting life over a safe one.”

There’s nothing wrong with safety. There’s nothing wrong with seeking stability and going down the easy road. It’s how most people live their life. Sure you miss out on the highest of highs, but you never have to face the lowest of lows; for most of us that’s a fair trade. But I tend to reflect on the risks I’ve taken.

I chose to move to Edmonton, by myself, and stay in Canada while my parents went to live in Australia. My first time living away from home was in a strange city, and my safety net lived on the other side of the planet. I did this because I was in love with a girl. Such a silly, stupid thing to do. She even had a boyfriend; a surefire recipe for heartbreak if there’s ever been one.

I chose to drop out of the University of Alberta, to leave behind a few years of an Engineering degree because I knew it wasn’t what made me happy. I did this much to the chagrin of my parents, my extended family, and the Dean of the Engineering Faculty. It was unanimous that dropping out of school and forsaking a promising career was a really bad thing.

The girl did break my heart, and I probably broke hers. I ended up with a job I hated, making $12/hour (slightly more than my previous job at a grocery store). There were times when I thought to myself “this is too hard; I’ve made the wrong decision.” But I married that girl, and I love her with all of my heart. I’m passionate about what I do for a living, and I’ve managed to parlay it into a fairly successful career.

So while I tend towards the middle, without risk what would I have? Security? Safety? A different life, in a different world. The risks I’ve taken are the things that have made me the happiest. The risks that I’ve taken define who I am. So thanks to Sean and Ryan for reminding me that sometimes it’s worthwhile to gamble on happiness - even if the world thinks you’re crazy for doing so.