Life is fun—it’s a blast!—full of joy and balloons, wonder and amazement, cotton candy and hot dogs. But it is also full of risk, and if you don’t know how to manage risk, it can ruin you.

There are two ways to manage risk. You can write it off, or you can take it seriously. It’s a spectrum, actually, with those two as extreme polar opposites. 

Somewhere, between those two, is us.

We all possess a blend of these two mindsets, and they shape how we see the world, how we invest, and how we dream.

The first is what’s called a scarcity mindset. A mindset that sees the world as operating on an eternal deficit, everyone trying to eek out a living at the same time. Within this mindset, there is no room for flourishing—for heaven’s sake let’s just make it to tomorrow. 

Every problem, every risk, is seen within this operating deficit. There’s just not enough good to go around, so we grasp as much as we can, for us and ours, and we hunker down. 

When you ask these folks what their financial goals are, they look at you like a bent tree. Maslow’s hierarchy of needs puts them squarely in the bottom quartile of human behavior, focused on survival and comfort, a cycle between these two statuses.

Scarcity is appealing because it accepts responsibility and seems to ground you in the “real world.” When you ask someone to justify this position, they always respond with a long list of risks they are trying to avoid.

And they are being very responsible! Very prepared!

(But let’s not tell them about the bajillion other risks they could never be prepared for! The mental illnesses that comes from bearing all this fear and dread! The depression of doubt!) 

But there is another way, an even more human, earthy way.

What if, instead of viewing the world through a pessimistic, scarcity lens, you saw there always being more than enough. This is called the abundance mindset, and it is inherently optimistic.

The justification for this view usually comes in the form of 1) sheer optimism (which can be burst with a needle), 2) confidence in a personal skillset (which can be destroyed by disability or death), or 3) religious faith (which, true or not, can be difficult to prove). 

So, definitely, the abundance mindset has a lot of obstacles, a lot of proving required. You won’t convince a depression-minded investor that there is more than enough capital to go around. You won’t convince a recently freed prisoner that there is more than enough opportunity.

But the only way to dream, to progress into Maslow’s self-actualization, is to operate on this principal, this principal of abundance. 

Then, and only then, can you start living. Ironically, when you hand off the responsibility of keeping the wheels on the bus, you start actually driving like you were made to. This is why religion places all fundamental authority, responsibility, and risk at the feet of an all-powerful (and hopefully all-loving) deity. Give him the reigns—be free to, well, just be created.

But the scarcity folks will always jeer, using every downfall as justification of their fear, risk-mongering, and taking of life far too seriously. 

And they’re right, life is for keeps. There are no mulligans. 

But next time you watch an airshow, try to ask the pilot doing tumbles and twirls if he thinks there is enough airspace for him, or enough mental clarity, or enough planning and practice and timing.

First, he initiates a deathly, flat tailspin, descending in a swirl of wings and smoke, then at the very last second, he starts a wobble that pulls him out of it, and as he scrapes by the ground, inches away from death, he’s going to look at you with this incredible gleam in his eye and say, “More than enough!”