Several years ago — like maybe 20! — my husband gave me a set of journaling cards called Inner Outings: The Diarist’s Deck of 33 Cards and Book of Exploration by Charlene Geiss and Claudia Jessup. I remember using them when I wanted to journal, but I wasn’t sure about what to write.
Tonight, I asked John what I should write about and then remembered this deck; I decided to pull a card and use it as my muse. Today’s card was this beautiful collaged image, with the prompt, “Taking Chances.”
My initial reaction was, “I’m not much of a risk taker. I won’t have anything to write about.” But then, I suddenly remembered two things about myself that would indicate otherwise.
The first thing is that I met my husband on the internet in the 1990s. We were both at universities and played on the internet — mostly in the form of IRC (Internet Relay Chat) — to relieve stress and escape from the demands of college life.
We met in a chat room (this was long before dating sites) and slowly became friends, then, eventually, more. We were halfway across the country from one another — I was at the University of Arkansas and he was at BIOLA University in Southern California — so when we first met online, it didn’t occur to me that we might actually be able to meet someday.
But meet, we did! In the summer of 1997, John came to Arkansas to visit for two weeks. Inviting him into our home seemed like the most natural thing in all the world. I met another guy IRL that I met over the internet, before John. Either of these men could have been swindlers or serial killers, but I met each of them in turn.
In January, 1999, I married John and moved to California, after one two-week visit the year before. I left my home and my family to start a new life with him. Getting married is, of itself, taking a chance, but the circumstances this seems, in retrospect, to be taking a huge chance!
The other thing I remembered about myself is what my husband calls one of my superpowers: When I want to do something new, I just go out and do it. I wanted to start a podcast, so I did a little research and started one (three, in fact, over the years). I wanted to be an artist, so I bought some supplies, and started making a mess.
Even starting this blog was a quick decision that I didn’t fret about. I didn’t make a list of the positives and negatives. I didn’t think about how likely I was to maintain it over the long run; I just sat down one night and started writing.
These are all small things, but they’re chances, none-the-less. Even when I’m through with something, it’s a quick decision. I just woke up one day and realized that the joy was gone in soap making, so I closed the doors on a profitable micro-business.
I’m not a skydiver or a race car driver (although I do like to drive fast). I’m not a rock climber or a gambler. But even so, I think I am a bit of a risk taker.
