I was taking about risk management to a seminary professor last night. She teaches seminary students how to give homilies. The risk of not giving the homily is that people won't connect with a reason to believe in a power greater than theirs, so maybe you give a homily that minimizes the risks of people not believing in a power greater than theirs.
Funny thing about risk: Doing something doesn't eliminate the risk of not doing it. You buy fire extinguishers to minimize the risk of not buying them (house burns down), but they don't keep your house from burning down. But we buy 'em and spread them around or nail 'em up in a way that minimizes the risk of your house burning down. Without this approach, I'd still be in the hardware store looking at fire extinguishers.
Risk management changed the way I write and the way I start a task. The trick is to approach the task in such a way as to minimize the risks associated with not doing it. That doesn't mean I live a sheltered life, 'cos sometimes I leave the house to minimize the risk of doing nothing. Life not lived and all that. I take notes the only way I know how, by reporting what I would want to know if I hadn't been there. I write in a way that minimizes the risk of not writing the thing I'm writing.
Aimee's outta town. This is the stuff I think about when I have time to think.