Without A Net

In my alternate career as an excellent life coach by day and dispenser of wisdom pearls like a gifted oyster shucker standing in broken shells and feeling around for the perfect one by sea, I’m often asked about backup plans. As in, is it important to have one or two in case things don’t work out accordingly? The super successful, the minted financiers, the moneyed mavens, and the well-fed entrepreneurs with their ivory white collars and tax write-offs, like to tell you they preferred entering the business world without so much as a single fallback. They skipped the net, feeling it would only make them feel too comfortable and too safe to stunt their brimming ambition. 

Perhaps, perhaps. If your ambition and drive is so delicate the presence of a net derails it, then it wasn’t that strong in the first place. Are you a better cyclist sans helmet, too? 

Because a strategically placed net might just save your life. Even the spandex-wearing circus freaks, holding poles and walking on tiptoes rarely if ever traipse across without a safety net. They know that one wrong move and it’s into the elephant dung they go – or worse. The clowns and dancing bears below are glad to have the net, since they depend on it as well. 

We’re not all acrobats. We don’t all understand acrobatics. Even professional contortionists and pretzel lovers put a premium on safety during live performances. Yet we’re made to believe that the president of a startup is immune from contingency plans. Don’t believe it. 

Ever try fishing without a net? I’m not talking about the solo fisherman, resting his eyes on a rowboat, hoping for a bite or two before the mosquitos turn the tables on him. No, this is in regards to the career fisherman, the nautical fella whose living depends on each catch. Imagine if instead of a net they had to use a spear or, God forbid, their clammy hands. Fish are slippery little fiends and pretty good swimmers. You think Phelps knows his way around water? He’s nothing compared to those who live in it full-time. At the end of the day, Olympic swimmers are still land mammals moonlighting in liquid for prestige and profit. 

Maybe you’re trawling and trolling, picking up shells, tossing back the broken ones, the smelly ones, the ones that don’t sit right. Imagine looking for bivalves with galoshes but no net. It can’t be done. 

Not having a fallback is a nice thought. But where does it get you in the end? Picking yourself off the pavement is easier the lower you are to the ground. And getting crushed is supposed to happen at the end of your career, not the beginning.