Regrets, or bravery?

Posted by on Nov 17, 2015 in Blog | No Comments

Just a little musing for today; I don’t tend to wax lyrical on matters philosophical – at least not without a few beers, in a “putting the world to rights” sort of way.
However, a couple of things recently have made me consider the ideas of bravery and regret and why that should be relevant to my work, hence publishing it here.

Firstly, as I may have mentioned over on that twitter, I was recently given a 9 month gym membership in exchange for simply being the first person to volunteer (for the unknown) – I pt up my hand and got something of value in return.
That’s not skill and it’s not luck, that’s just saying “Yeah, I’m game, let’s go” and deciding to say yes to the unknown.
I’ve been told that’s a brave thing to do; out of context, maybe it is, but at the time – in a business social/networking thing, rather than playing Russian roulette with a bunch of crazed desperados – it didn’t seem at all risky.

So, that’s the value of saying “Yes”. What’s the price of saying “No”?

Sam Yassin speaking in public.
Any second now, he’s going to ask for a volunteer. Astonishingly, Nobody puts their hand up… Except me.

Well, how can we tell?
When nothing happens, nothing changes, we risk nothing, how do we know what we’re missing?
Maybe nothing? Maybe an opportunity? Maybe a fortune, or true love, or a life-changing adventure?

In truth, I have no idea. But what I do know is this; I genuinely regret saying no to the few things that I remember saying “No” to – because it wasn’t for me, or because I was scared, or because of what people might think of me.

This isn’t some Earth-shattering epiphany that was delivered by lightning bolt from the heavens, and it wasn’t revealed like the meaning of some Da Vici code, studying the wisdom of ancients (or management gurus). No, it simply came to me while I was filling the dishwasher and had a vacant-brain moment.

But that’s it; For me, that’s the cost of saying no. When I can hear nothing else, when my mind is empty and still, I am reminded that I turned down chances to be different, to see something different, to experience something that “wasn’t for me”:
Watching Barcelona play football.
Life modelling.
Living in a cold squat in Berlin.

They could all have been something or nothing.
As it is, I said no thanks, and they were nothing.

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