Potholes and other Underestimated RISKS of the Road Less Traveled

I was three years old. A lot of challenges but not yet a lot of labels. The labels would later come, of course, and include Autism, severe developmental delay, learning problems, sensory regulation disorder, sensory processing disorder, motor apraxia, epilepsy, and eventually brain injury … and those were only the ones that applied to my mind and brain. They don’t even include the ones that applied to my eyes which weren’t working well at all.

While my parents were not hungry for a label or diagnosis, the system was. And a key part of that was a psychological assessment. So we had one done at that time.

This was not my only run-in with psychological assessments. At one attempt, perhaps one year later, I apparently failed because my abilities, or lack thereof, were so varied and inconsistent that the attending psychologist said that she couldn’t even make an appropriate assessment and refused to issue a report. I guess I didn’t fit into boxes very well.

But at three, there was a report. And it said that I was quite severely affected and, wait for it, my parents ‘didn’t have to worry because I would qualify for a teaching assistant in school.’

Well, that started my family down a whole different path. My Mom was, at that time, a Lecturer in Organic Chemistry at the University. Meanwhile, my Dad was progressing up the academic ladder as a clinician (physician) / educator / program builder at the same University. Science-driven, evidence-based nerds, more or less. And up until this moment, that is how they chose therapies for my care.

But my Dad had cared for enough children with challenges similar to mine. And he knew how that movie was likely to end. It was definitely not his dream that his child would ‘qualify’ for a teaching assistant in school. He later described it as such: “If you don’t like the movie, change the script.” And that is precisely what my parents did – risks and all.

What were the risks, at least as my parents perceived them at that time?

To stick with the status-quo, conventional therapies came with a high likelihood of exactly what that Psychologist predicted: learning difficulties and a need for academic help in school. My physical development was also very delayed so that was definitely not going to help my acquisition of skills or my ability to cultivate/express/demonstrate them. The outcomes and probabilities were reasonably well defined, and definitely more defined than with the alternative paths of care.

Sticking with conventional treatment had some definite rewards too – as there is always a balance of risk and reward in life. Some of those rewards included the explicit or implicit approval of medical colleagues, funding agencies, and even relatives. The reason that most go with ‘conventional’ or ‘typical’ options for anything, is because that is precisely what most people do. That’s how they get labeled conventional, after all.

But what about the risks of the non-conventional? In many ways my parents understood that they were grasping at apparent straws. They were told that they were willing to risk their child to a ‘hope’ and yes, a ‘prayer’. My Mom risked her career in a risk that did come true. She would never be able to return to her academic career in the University. My Dad risked ostracism by his medical colleagues, and in many ways, set for himself a tougher-than-glass ceiling to his academic career. Also, by taking the road less traveled, they lost the safety nets of the allopathic medical system and the resources and expertise of the school system – as they, on my behalf, “opted out”.

And for what reward? A hope and, yes, a prayer that their son might have a different outcome and that the movie script thus changed might have a different ending.

Every choice, every commission (what you commit or do) or omission (what you omit or don’t do) has risks. One of the most important lessons about risks is that you can never eliminate them. At most what you do is attempt to transform them in such a way that the potential impact leads to a perception on your part that you will be more likely to get more of what you want and less of what you don’t.

In other words, when we think of risk, it comes down to strategy. Every decision and every action or inaction is after all a strategy to get more advantage over disadvantage in our way of counting – i.e. more of what you most want (your highest value) and less of what you least want (your lower value).

My argument is that if you choose to live a life by design rather than by default, it does require an assessment, a calculation, of risk. Your choices always come with consequences. And by calculating what those risks or downsides might be, you might expand your options. For instance, you may decide that that downside is more than you would choose to live with. At least you are giving yourself the option of a different strategy if your intended pathway carries a risk that you choose not to accept.

My argument is that, like the proverbial ostrich, burying your head in the sand doesn’t make the predator go away. It doesn’t make it go away any more than a baby covering its eyes makes a stranger go away.

When you don’t see a risk you are at greater risk.

Both my parents had major consequences to their respective careers as a result of choosing the road less traveled, the unconventional road, for my care. My Mom will not be able to return to teaching Chemistry, at which she was exceptionally gifted, without retraining. My Dad set himself on a pathway that eventually led to him leaving academia and possibly leaving his first career love, Medicine, entirely.

If they had not pre-calculated those risks, they might be complaining that those consequences came ‘out of the blue’. Rarely does anything in life come out of the blue. Most times we just ignore or underestimate the risk. To think otherwise robs us of our power and removes our agency. We attribute, falsely I might add, that our lot in life is the result of someone else’s actions. What’s more is that we fail to appreciate how we have contributed to whatever we are experiencing in life.

We have previously written about the importance of you taking the mantle of CEO of your life. Many of our readers are CEOs of their businesses too. And one of the main jobs of the CEO is risk mitigation. It is no wonder that CEOs invest so much time and resources into asking the question “What am I missing?” (And if they’re not, it would be wise to do so.)

Remember that if you see no risk, it doesn’t mean that there are no risks, for there always are. It just means you are blind, perhaps willfully blind, to them. This explains why you are most at risk of attack from your blindspots.

Each of us has blindspots. And that is why it is important to have others whom we trust to help us find and explore them. We have definitely witnessed the importance of this in our own life and with our clients. In our Member Teaching, we will provide examples from our clients where they were blind, and yes sometimes willfully blind, to risks that they faced. You might even recognize yourself or your business in some of their stories.

If you have not yet done so, please join the Chintan Membership Program to access this material. Then come join us at the Live teaching on May 16, 2023, where we will review a structure for considering risk and specific actions you can take to mitigate them in your life and business.

Until the next perfect time,

Amit Chintan Ramlall