Jackson Free Press

All risks are not unhealthy ones, like having unprotected sex with a stranger. Risk-taking can be a normal, healthy part of life.

Admittedly, some healthy ventures can involve danger. For example, Cinnamon Wirostek, a 30-something woman whom I met in Europe this summer, does something each year that she's never done before to celebrate her birthday. One year she jumped out of an airplane wearing a parachute.

Wirostek is a risk taker. For her, apparently, the threat of a malfunctioning parachute or looking foolish—imagine if she refused to jump once standing in the airplane door—are secondary to the psychological high of accomplishing the new adventure: stepping out of the plane, free falling through the air and parachuting to earth. After taking such a big risk, Cinnamon is a different woman. Maybe that is the reward.

At the other end of the spectrum, my mother, Avis, now in her 90s, saved her money in low-yield CDs, never once considering a mutual fund or stock, because she remembered the stock market crash of '29. Avis is risk averse—she doesn't like taking chances.

For Avis, the threat of missing out on a greater return on her money that she might have received if it were invested in stocks was nil compared to the psychological security of knowing that her money was safe. A good night's sleep with no worry about how the stock market was performing was one of her greatest benefits.

Cinnamon and Avis have different, unique thresholds, or comfort zones, for taking risks. We all do. Knowing ourselves well enough to understand what those are and then managing choices appropriately impacts our quality of life.

Though no one is remotely suggesting that we all should jump out of an airplane or move all our money to CDs, it is worth noting that sometimes doing nothing is the biggest risk of all. This sometimes puts "safety first" people in a quandary.

We are all challenged from time to time to get up off our cushion in the corner and take a healthy risk, like volunteering for the new high-profile project at work. Or asking out the cute guy who's a friend of a friend instead of waiting for him to make the first move. Or saying "hello" to a stranger and making a new acquaintance. Or sharing something about ourselves with a friend that exposes who we really are and opens the door to more comfort between us.

Admittedly, doing so challenges our vulnerability, the approval of family and friends, or maybe even changes our relationships with them. Sometimes, it means we have to change, ourselves: the way we live, day-to-day, hour-by-hour, in order to actually live more fully at work and in our personal lives.

Being neophobic—afraid of anything new—makes such stepping out difficult. If that's you, enjoy the list of tips for increasing your tolerance for healthy risks. Or rent "Under the Tuscan Sun," a great light-hearted chick flick filled with encouragement and inspiration about taking healthy risks.

Are You An Unhealthy Risk Taker?

Strictly for fun, and to hammer home the danger of unhealthy risks, enjoy this very unscientific checklist. Answer "Yes" or "No" based on how each statement best describes you.

1. I get bored if I'm ever alone.
2. Dangerous things are as essential to me as my cigarettes.
3. I always buy on credit and toss the receipts.
4. I gamble regularly on money borrowed from my brother-in-law who got a windfall after getting out of jail.
5. I like hanging out with exciting people, even if though know that they are unreliable.
6. "Here today, gone tomorrow" applies to everything in my life.
7. I'd rather win big or lose it all.
8. I refuse to lose weight if I have to give up heavy drinking.
9. Simultaneously driving fast and text messaging is my way to live.
10. Acting on impulse is a habit.

If you answered "Yes" to all 10 statements, please be sure that you have picked out your burial plot. If you checked eight or more, make sure your will is in place. If the checklist seemed reasonable to you, please get to your shrink.

Increase Your Risk Tolerance

Learn one new thing every day for a year.
Eat alone in a restaurant.
Do, or learn to do, what most frightens you—something that will help you live the life you want—for example: learn to swim, entertain, write, speak in public, fly, etc.
Make your own bucket list and start crossing items off.
Ask someone for help and let him or her help you.
One out of 52 weeks, go to a church of a different denomination than where you usually attend.
Subscribe to the Caretaker Gazette, caretaker.org, and consider housesitting in a city you've always wanted to visit.
Go through your house and select 25 items that you don't need or use anymore. Put them in the trash or donate them to Goodwil. Caveat: This is deceptively informative.
Host a pot luck and invite only people who don't know each other. Hold on.