# Risks in Plain Sight

Life hands us risks like unmarked pages—raw, unpolished, waiting for our hand to shape them. On a quiet evening in late 2025, I imagine "risks.md" as a simple digital notebook: no flash, just honest lines that help us see clearly.

## The Quiet Act of Listing

We often hide risks in our heads, where they swell and distort. But writing them down, like entries in a Markdown file, brings calm. A job change. A deep conversation. A step toward someone new. Naming them strips away the fog.

- A bridge too far, yet worth crossing.
- A word unspoken, heavy with regret.
- A path untried, full of quiet promise.

This list isn't defeat; it's preparation. It turns fear into something editable, human.

## Breathing Through the Bold

Once listed, risks invite breath, not battle. We read them over coffee, under winter stars on December 22nd, and feel their weight lighten. Not because they vanish, but because we've met them face-to-face. Sincerity here means pausing: What if this risk blooms into belonging? What if it teaches without breaking?

I've watched friends do this—jotting fears before a move, a confession, a dream chased. The page holds steady while hearts waver, then steady too.

## Forward, One Line at a Time

Risks.md isn't a warning sign; it's a map we redraw daily. Some lines we strike through, wiser. Others we bold, ready. In this practice, life unfolds not as a gamble, but a deliberate walk—thoughtful, unhurried.

*To live fully is to author your risks with care.*