I willingly took part in “risky behavior.” Well—maybe that’s too strong. Let’s say I took a risky path and did nothing to change it. At first, I told myself: “I’m an independent guy. I can do this! In fact, this is a statement of freedom. I’m not a drone of the hive.” That lasted about five minutes. Then the what-ifs began.
Hitchhiking With Cannibals
When I was younger, I sometimes disappeared for three months at a time. I lived with my parents during the year, went to college, and spent my summers hiking through the Rockies. The risky part wasn’t the hiking. It was how I got there. I hitchhiked. Even then, it wasn’t exactly safe. But it felt safe enough. One year, while I was off embracing my freedom, my mother heard a report about a cannibalistic hitchhiker caught with three fingers in his back pocket. She was fairly sure I wasn’t the cannibal. But she was also fairly sure those fingers were mine. She suffered for a long time. I didn’t call home for weeks. Because I was independent. Because I was free. Because I believed that carving your own path meant being unreachable.
The Cellphone Incident
Fast forward 45 years. I accidentally left my cellphone behind. I was on a mission to pick someone up at the train station. There was no time to turn around. So I told myself: “This is fine. This is who I am. I’ve lived decades without a phone. I once hitchhiked with a cannibal nearby.” This brave internal monologue lasted two blocks. Then came the flood: What if the train broke down? What if my family knew something I didn’t? What if I had a heart attack? Scratch that. I’d already had a heart attack. What if I got there and there was no one there? No update. No delay alert. No message. Just… faith.
The New Fragility
That’s the shift. It’s not that the system is failing us more. It’s that we’ve lost the muscle memory of trust. Not because we’ve been betrayed— but because we now have the ability to verify. We can know instantly. So not knowing feels like failure. It feels like danger. Even if it’s just two blocks away. Even if it’s just a train station.
Final Thought
Risky behavior used to mean hitchhiking through Colorado with a questionable sandwich. Now it means driving without a phone. Maybe freedom used to mean being unfindable. Now it might just mean being okay with not knowing for a while.
That, it turns out, is a risk.
A Work Progressing 