# The Quiet Ledger of Risks

## Naming What Scares Us

Imagine a plain text file called risks.md on your desktop. No apps, no fuss—just words listing what keeps you up at night. A job change. Asking someone out. Speaking up in a meeting. On December 20, 2025, as the year dims toward solstice, I started mine. Not to conquer fears, but to see them plainly, like stones in a clear stream.

This simple habit echoes an old wisdom: what we name loses some power. In everyday life, risks hide in vague worries. Writing them in Markdown—raw, editable—turns shadows into lines we can read, revise, live with.

## The Weight Lifted

Clarity brings calm. My list grew short:

- Quitting the steady path for a quieter calling.
- Sharing a hidden hurt with a friend.
- Walking alone at dusk, trusting the world a little more.

Each entry isn't a battle plan, but a breath. Reviewing it weekly, I notice patterns: most risks feel smaller on paper. Some fade; others call for a step. It's not about bravery's roar, but steady light—rendering life's text into something structured, humane.

## Toward a Fuller Page

Over time, risks.md becomes a story. Entries from last winter show risks I took: a solo trip, a hard goodbye. They shaped me without breaking. This practice whispers that risk isn't the enemy—avoidance is. By logging them, we invite growth, one honest line at a time.

*In the hush of longest night, let your risks.md be a gentle map forward.*