Going out on a limb

“It was a matter of getting out on a damn limb and sawing it off behind you.” - Lee Miller

Just before New Year’s, I went to the Tate Britain to see an exhibition of Lee Miller’s photography. This quote from her at the start of the exhibition really struck a nerve and made me think about risk tolerance.

As a financial journalist, I’ve written often about risk tolerance, and the need for people to be aware of their own tolerance when designing and managing their investment portfolios. We all have different risk tolerances, and we all have different risk tolerances in different aspects of our lives. Someone might stay in a job for 20 years because they fear change in that space, while going skydiving at the weekend. It's a bit of a silly example but it makes a point.

I’m someone that people tend to describe as adventurous, and my life is littered with examples of taking big risks. Moving to another country on my own, without a job or a place to live, knowing no one. Allowing myself to fall in love with someone who lives on another continent. And yes, skydiving (bungee jumping too).

But I recently realised how very risk averse I have become in my home life. So I examined where that has probably come from and whether that conservatism is serving me or holding me back.

I grew up moving around a lot. My mother also grew up moving around a lot. So both of us as adults continued to move around a lot. I don’t know whether it was nature or nurture – or likely both. While I’ve been in London for 25 years, for the first 12 years, I lived in 12 different flats in different parts of the city. There was always the expectation that everywhere was temporary. And then I landed in my current flat. And I made a home.

It's a wonderful thing to make a home, to create a space that I look forward to returning to, a place people walk into and feel the happy vibes. I needed that after never having lived in one city for more than six years and one house for more than four. And it has been even more important for the past eight years since my mother sold her house and started travelling the world. As much as I have admired that she’s globetrotting by herself at 80, I’ve wanted somewhere to come home to after my travels. I’ve needed my own home even as I’ve shared my partner’s home in Buenos Aires part-time for the past four years.

Then a few months ago a mad idea popped into my head - giving it up. I felt a strong urge to use the time I’m not in Buenos Aires to explore – to take courses, go on retreats, visit friends for more than a few days, go places that have always been on my list but I just can’t seem to make it to and, very importantly, spend more time in nature. And I realised I couldn’t do those things if I kept my flat, not financially or logistically.

The fear held me back. I listened to rational voices (including the one in my own head) say it was mad to give up such a lovely home. But the feeling was still there. I realised that no matter how lovely my home is, it’s now holding me back. I understood that at this point in my life, giving myself freedom to explore is more important than security. So I walked out on that damn limb and I sawed it off behind me.

Why am I sharing this story? Because we all can get a bit too secure sometimes, and that security can hold us back from pursuing what we really want, from being who we really want to be. I'm not advocating that everybody put their stuff in storage and run away from home. But I pose the question – What in your life feels nice and cosy like a duvet but is actually holding you down like a weighted blanket? It could be something physical, like a home, or an idea that you have about yourself or about how the world works. What do you not question because the answer might be scary?

These types of questions can be hard to think about on your own. It can be hard to have that “aha moment” when you are just going about life in the usual way. This is why I work with people to help them take a step out of their everyday life and to support them in working in non-ordinary states. It’s in these states where we can let go of our grip on our consciousness, on our ego, and tap into the unconscious, to let what is usually hidden in the depths to bubble up to the surface.

The night after I gave notice on my flat I had a very powerful, symbolic dream. It was an acknowledgement of me allowing my unconscious side, my instinct, my wild, primitive energy – what I usually keep contained - to become more integrated in my conscious life. And in the days after my decision, I've had a series of wonderful opportunities come my way, and several areas of my life that had felt a bit stagnant and confusing are starting to clear. I removed a block and now the energy is flowing!

What block do you need to remove to let the energy flow so you can lead the life you want to live?