I was driving down Lake Shore Drive (LSD to us Chicagoans) recently. It’s my favorite stretch of pavement in all of Chicago, probably of anywhere–four lanes stretching the length of much of the city, generally following the shoreline of Lake Michigan to the east, and the changing views of urban sprawl to the west. It provides stunning views of downtown. Hey, even a pop song was written to honor this great roadway!
It was a weekday morning, just after rush hour, with a remnant of traffic still careening around the various twists and turns of LSD. As I came around one of the bends in the road, I saw a lone seagull, standing as still as a statue, in the middle of the road. The traffic hadn’t reached it yet.
What ran through my mind was not only how out-of-place this seagull looked, but how oblivious it was to the clear and present danger approaching it—impatient commuters racing downtown, most of whom wouldn’t have thought twice about flattening it into a pancake.
Are you ever like this seagull? Have you put yourself in situations where you have an unrealistic view of the potential threats, perils, or negative consequences?
I’ve written on the opposite of this—how people get stuck in fear, running from things that are not as dangerous as they are imagined to be. As a result, these folks (all of us at some point, let’s be honest) miss out on important opportunities, perhaps even becoming disengaged from vital parts of life.
Today, however, I’m talking about the flip side of the coin: rushing headlong into situations that can cost us dearly.
Taking risks is critical to moving our lives, our businesses, and our relationships forward. BUT there is a huge difference between taking smart risks and taking dumb risks.
Was it really worth it to that bird to hang out in the middle of LSD?
Well, that depends, in part, on the potential benefits. Did the seagull think there was food there? Perhaps it thought this was a serene place to stand and ponder it’s future plans as a seagull. Maybe it was hiding from a bully seagull (“he’ll never find me here.”).
Or, maybe it just landed, thoughtlessly (which can be another problem for us to avoid—mindlessly going through life).
Obviously the potential benefits only make sense in comparison to the potential costs. Some risks aren’t worth it because the cost is too big if things don’t work out.
I’m guessing the potential benefits for this seagull on LSD were far outweighed by the potential costs. But hey, I’m not a seagull.
–Sean Cox, Chicago
… or maybe that seagull trusted in his ability react to danger so well, that he felt perfectly safe!
I often find myself in either of the predicaments that you mention; being too petrified to move even when it is relatively safe, or just going and doing something, oblivious to some really horrible consequences.
How to find a balance… this is good food for thought!
I think more often than not, those ‘really horrible’ consequences are less drastic than they seem, and what hasn’t killed me has made me stronger and more knowledgable. But maybe I haven’t taken the craziest of crazy risks….
I agreeTathata, we all have the ability to “catastrophize”–we gotta watch that! And you’re right–maybe our seagull WAS skilled and WAS fully aware of what was going on, and was only trusting in her ability to avoid those cars speeding towards her. Then I say, “Well done”. Great point you’ve made.