Wayfinders Room #002 - Let's Talk About Risks

See, I’m an artist... All my life I’ve been an artist. I was a happy child with a brave explorer’s heart and a passion for creating exciting scenarios in my head, where I could play, fight huge imaginary monsters, or have an amazing time driving my imaginary car to get a thousand McDonald’s hamburgers (which clearly was what happiness meant to me at the time, haha). All I needed was my imagination and I could go anywhere.

As I grew up, life shifted toward the “real world.” School became about tests, scores, math, physics, chemistry. Don’t get me wrong, I love those subjects. Poke my curiosity the right way and you’ll find me spending hours studying why gravity exists. But…

The risk I took when I chose to be an artist, in Brazil, at sixteen, started the night I walked (crying) into my parents’ bedroom to ask them to let me be who I had always been, to be my first supporters. Instead I heard, “You’ll end up with no money… collecting food from garbage cans.” From then on, the word artist felt like a burden.

I’ve always considered myself extremely lucky, though. One day a close friend told me he faced similar challenges, but when he asked his parents for support, his dad said, “Fear is where growth is.” Our views of risk were shaped completely differently because of one core moment of support versus denial. Our ability to assess a situation, and choose fight or flight, ended up completely different. And the fact that I was diagnosed with major depressive disorder (MDD) at that age is understandable.

"The Black Box" (it was black inside) - The theater which became my safe space, envisioned by Mauro Zanatta, in Brazil.

OK, now… I got lucky again when my dear music professor, Adriana Chiarelli, told me to face my fear of singing and playing “too loudly” in the theater. She had just the right person to help: Mauro Zanatta, another dear professor who created a safe space where I could take risks at any pace I could handle. He also showed me that play is serious work. What I did as a child mattered (and should be treated that way). It’s impossible for us, as artists, to do what we want without letting our imagination run free.

Soon, surrounded by clowns, painters, actors, musicians, and so on, I learned the word that counters the fear and anxiety we feel when we take risks:

Vulnerability.

How about that, huh?

The more I open myself to the possibility of failure, the less risky things feel.

Yep.

With this one simple concept, practiced slowly and deliberately, I went from quiet, scared, and depressed to happy, healthy, and courageous. It took time, but with patience and the right kind of work, risk became something I could handle.

So... What risk are you considering this week (and what small step would make it feel safe enough)?

Tell me in the comments!