_ Last weekend the Kindle recommended book was called Small Steps, about a guy just out of prison who was trying to turn his life around. I was intrigued and, despite it being a children's book, purchased and read it that day.
It wasn't complex writing, but it was a good example of how effective small steps can be. Theodore, the hero, set himself little achievable targets that he was passionate about. Five small steps, which were: graduate from high school, get a job, save his money, avoid violent situations and lose his nickname. When other, ostensibly wealth-generating, opportunities presented themselves, he weighed them up against his steps and if they didn't fit he tried to avoid getting sucked into them. As the weeks developed, things didn't always turn out as he expected but he tried to doggedly stick to his regimen of small steps. The book ends with him having achieved most of his steps and he sets a whole new set of steps to take him forward. These build on the first five, setting his sights on college and then the University of Texas.
If only life were that simple I hear you cry. Yes, this was children's fiction and might not have reflected the real world, but I think there is a lesson in there for us all. Small steps are useful. Small steps, that might seem achievable from the outset, that take us towards our goals. They might be risky still, a starting of something new, but because they are smaller they appear less hazardous.
And then when they are complete and congratulations are over, set some more steps to take you even further. A good plan. A simple plan. A plan you can remember and so stick to. Try it and see.
_To laugh is to risk appearing a fool, To weep is to risk appearing sentimental. To reach out to another is to risk involvement, To expose feelings is to risk exposing your true self. To place your ideas and dreams before a crowd is to risk their loss. To love is to risk not being loved in return, To live is to risk dying, To hope is to risk despair, To try is to risk failure.
But risks must be taken because the greatest hazard in life is to risk nothing. The person who risks nothing, does nothing, has nothing, is nothing.
He may avoid suffering and sorrow, But he cannot learn, feel, change, grow or live. Chained by his servitude he is a slave who has forfeited all freedom. Only a person who risks is free. The pessimist complains about the wind; The optimist expects it to change; And the realist adjusts the sails.
It was the Golden Globes awards ceremony last night and, if you hadn't heard, one of the bigger winners, as expected, was The Artist.
I haven't seen it yet, Dunoon being blessed with an improved but not yet multiplex cinema, but am keen to. It doen't fit my normal viewing genres but it must be a good film and therefore worth a look. As I considered it though, a few questions came to mind that apply to us and our lives. The Artist seems to be good because it's different - black and white films are not in abundance at the moment and silent films are even less common. Maybe though its good and its different - I won't know until I've seen it. The question is, did it win the awards because its different and has it been made it different deliberately to win an award. Reading about the director, I suspect he set out to make a different film because that's what he enjoys - the fact that it is successful is probably a nice bonus though. What about us - do we deliberately do things in order to win awards, the acclaim of the crowds or the commendation of our boss? Alternatively, are we working to produce our best because it brings us satisfaction - if we get a pat on the back then its a nice extra? How often do we focus on the praise that we'll get from someone else? A frequently asked question of mine is, 'How do you know you have been successful?' - we need to be able to determine it for ourselves rather than waiting for an external person or body giving us the big thumbs up. And what about being different - so much of society now is very monochrome, with everyone looking like everyone else and if they don't, then simply trying harder to. People want to fit in and think that the way forward is to be identical. As I write this I think of the magazines where they show you what the stars wear and then give you the cheap alternatives so you can almost exactly copy them. Great, if I want to follow, but what if I want to stand out, be different, lead the way? It seems the truly successful people in this life are those with the courage to go their own way, no matter where other people are going and to be content with that path, whether it wins plaudits or not. Doing what you want to do, as well as you can, brings its own rewards.
For once I have no deep thoughts to share or questions to probe you with, merely a video of someone being excellent in their field. Let this video inspire you with a vision of what is possible from someone who sets his mind to excel and enjoys doing his thing. I'm sure there are lessons to be learnt about taking risks in order to achieve as well, but actually I just want to watch it over and over without thinking cluttering my enjoyment, to marvel at what is possible. There is a story on the RedBull site (his sponsors) about a 4 year old biker being asked if he could do similar things. His response: "No. No one can. But he can!" That says it all really.
Following the crowd I was walking up Ben Nevis at the weekend, using the tourist track for the first bit of the walk in order to access the north side of the mountain. Now, admittedly it was the height of summer, but I was absolutely amazed at the steady stream of people all wandering upwards; a wide variety of people, with a huge differentiation in preparedness amongst them. Some appeared to be ready for anything, others were out for an afternoon stroll; there were families, couples, solos, 3-peakers, tourists - everyone seemed to be on the Ben. But they were all following the same path. Admittedly it is the easiest way to the top of Britain's tallest hill, but the thought of trudging (and thats a gracious way of describing the gait of some) in someone else's footsteps all the way to 1344m doesn't really appeal to me. I love the quote from Robert Frost about the two roads that diverged in a yellow wood: "I took the one less travelled by, and that has made all the difference".It inspires me to find my own path through life as well as on the hillside. Taking our own route Now, taking our own route made things a little trickier, but still achievable - you can see a little section of our day in the video below. Its debatable whether we had a greater feeling of achievement than the folks clambering on top of the cairn but I suspect we enjoyed the route more than the puggled people forcing themselves a step further with each breath. Instead we shared the ridge with only one other couple and had a few hours of very peacefu, pleasant scrambling. All because we chose to take our own route away from the crowds. Are you still trudging along with the rest of them? Maybe its not on a montain path. What about in your work? Perhaps in the things you believe? Possibly in the opinions you have read and absorbed from a newspaper. Now I'm not saying that any of these are wrong; what bothers me though is so many people doing the same old same old, simply because 'thats the way its always been done'. Test it, check it, is it still the best way to do something? I talked to a colleague today who said he had recently been asked in interview 'what have you changed recently and what difference has it made?' Maybe we all ought to ask ourselves that. What things will you question today in order to find your own unique path?
I'm currently working near Aviemore and I was watching kids playing in the snow yesterday. They were having a great time climbing up the heaps at the side of the car park, then sliding back down. Then after about five minutes, one of them noticed they had snow in their trainers and that their socks were wet and cold. Then someone else complained that their trousers were wet where they had sat down.
At first I wondered if they hadn't realised that snow was wet, but at 11 or 12 years old you would think they would have some grasp of that notion. In the end I decided that they simply hadn't thought through the consequences of their excitement. They had seen something they wanted to do and so they had simply done it. The consequences could wait.
As adults we have become more aware that the decisions we make will have impact, for good or bad, however we maybe sometimes spend as little time considering them as the children did.
Is that a bad thing? Without some reckless spontaneity life might become less exciting, if a little more chaotic. However if we don't think of the consequences then people can get hurt, and sometimes it is us.
Where do we individually draw the line? Some of us will be quite careful and think everything through, others prefer to go with the flow and mop up afterwards. Where is your balance point and are you happy with it?
One of my friends was recently involved in an incident out on the Clyde, resulting in him being air-lifted to hospital on his birthday. He made the front page of the local paper and has caused a bit of a stir for a small town.
Apparently (though I must confess I haven't read it yet) a letter has been written to the editor this week castigating my friend for taking risks. This makes my blood boil - cue angry response letter to the Ed.
Why does it upset me so; because I have seen so many cottonwool-encased children turning into risk-averse adults, sheltering behind the latest health and safety legislation becoming decreasingly capable of making decisions for themselves. Rumour has it that there has even been talk in parliament of advising people to change their bed-sheets every week - what kind of a society do we now inhabit?
Where are the chances for children to experiment and practice, failing often, getting hurt sometimes, but growing and gaining experience. What has happened to the idea of people developing themselves by trying new things? How small are our comfort zones becoming?
How long before people take no risks, with the consequence of more injuries because they can no longer accurately judge how hazardous things are? “To love is to risk not being loved in return. To hope is to risk pain. To try is to risk failure, but risk must be taken because the greatest hazard in life is to risk nothing.”
This anonymous quote is one of my favourites and I refer to it often. We need risk because without it we stagnate, we stop growing and developing, and life becomes dull. Surely this is the greatest hazard in life - that by our own hand we make our own lives less worth living.
I applaud my friend for making the most of a gorgeous day to go paddling on a flat-calm sea in the warming winter sun. I hope he continues to do it, because he has no doubt learned lessons which would otherwise be wasted.
So, is this the greatest hazard in life - what are your thoughts? Click on Comments above to add your response.
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Author
Nick has been writing for mass consumption ever since he was sending newsletters home from the Philippines 20+ years ago. He has carried on putting finger to keyboard, branching out into magazines, manuals and recently submitting lots of words for books. He has always aimed to be entertaining but at the same time challenging. If you like something, feel free to pass it on to someone else, but if you are challenged by it then even better - write a comment, start a debate, add to the fun.
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