Episode Details

Are you a risk taker and trust in the Universe? Do you lean forward into something you’re dreaming about—a new path, a bold desire, a leap of faith—without knowing exactly how it’ll turn out?

Or maybe you’re risk averse, holding on tight to what you know. You’d rather stick with what’s familiar, even if it’s not your ideal, rather than roll the dice on something uncertain.

This conversation is about risk and trust. If you want to live life to the fullest, you need both. So let me take you back.

Garden Variety Chances

Thirty years ago, I wrote an article that ended up being published in the Venture Inward magazine—yes, the Edgar Cayce Foundation’s magazine. It was my very first piece ever submitted, and it got accepted. That was an enormous thrill. The column was called “The Turning Point”, and believe me, it was.

That article, “Garden Variety Chances,” told a story I want to share again, because even now, decades later, the message still rings true.

At the time, I’d been working at a major packaged foods company in New York for seven years—and I hated it. I mean, I learned a lot, had good experiences, but the energy was just…heavy and often stressful for what seemed like no reason.

The Big Layoff

Eventually, a larger corporation bought us, and with all the merging, my position was eliminated. But there were jobs open to be considered. I applied half-heartedly, knowing I didn’t want any of them.

But then came the severance offer: seven months’ salary. To leave a job I despised? That was the universe handing me an exit ramp—and I took it. For this is one time I had trust in the Universe.

What did I do with my first unemployment check? I went to Hawaii. No regrets!

Anxiety Mounted

I didn’t want the same kind of job again, so I didn’t know what was next. But the path slowly revealed itself. A former colleague called and asked if I could help out at her agency. That was the beginning of my freelance career in copywriting and marketing consulting.

Sounds great, right? And it was—for a while. But about two years in, I hit a wall. My bank account was dwindling. I was filled with fear. I kept imagining the worst like losing my condo, my car, having to move back in with my parents at 30. That felt like the end of the world.

Even though I was in that anxious place, one day at the grocery store, I splurged. I bought a $3 sorrel plant. That’s it. Just a leafy, lemony green. I certainly didn’t need it. Money was tight. Yet, I bought it anyway.

I lived in a condo without any outdoor living space, so I couldn’t really plant it. I called my friend Carrie and told her about my “extravagance.” She was gardening and invited me to plant it in her yard. However, she also warned me ab