I read once that water is a symbol for emotions. And for a while now I've thought maybe my mother drowned in both.

I’ve got this tiny pang of regret when I think of how much I have probably missed out on in the last few years because I was too scared to take a risk, or too shy to speak up, or too worried to be bold.

You know... sometimes we meet our destiny on the road we take to avoid it.

But what I realize, here, now, is that it's not actually making the choice that takes courage. It's facing it afterward. Owning up to it, whether it's good or bad.

Nothing could be left to chance, because chance, after all, can be dangerous. But what I didn't realize all that time, what I missed all along, is that chance is everywhere. It's also what life is made of. It's all around us, but most of the time we never see it working.

But sometimes life gives us those rare moments where we do see chance as it’s happening. And in those moments, we have a choice. And sometimes we have to take a risk. And it’s scary. It makes us vulnerable. But I know now it’s worth it.

But when’s the last time you took a chance? Or didn’t do what someone else expected of you? Or did something you really wanted to, even though you probably shouldn’t have?