# Risks in Plain Sight

## The Weight of What We Carry

On the last day of 2025, I sit with a simple file: risks.md. It's not a ledger of failures, but a quiet map of possibilities. Life hands us uncertainties like loose threads—job changes, heartfelt confessions, moves to new cities. We often hide them, fearing their sharp edges. Yet, naming them in plain words strips away the shadows. A risk written down becomes familiar, less a monster and more a companion.

## Markup for the Soul

Markdown suits this perfectly. No frills, just asterisks for emphasis, hashes for structure. It's how we order chaos:

- *What if it fails?* A new venture.
- *What if they say no?* Reaching out to a friend.
- *What if I'm wrong?* A change in direction.

This format mirrors our minds—editable, versioned, honest. By listing risks, we practice courage not as recklessness, but as deliberate steps. It's a philosophy of gentle exposure: see the hazard, feel its pull, then choose.

## Toward Tomorrow's Light

In 2025's close, risks.md reminds me that growth hides in discomfort. We've all paused at edges, hearts steadying before a leap. The file doesn't erase fear; it honors it, turning "what if" into "even if." We move not despite risks, but through them, emerging wiser.

*May your risks.md, come 2026, tell stories of quiet triumphs.*