Tag Archives: car insurance

Operation Plan B

Car Crash 6 cropped

   There is no Plan B.

   Ever seen that t-shirt? Here’s what I’d like to know – why isn’t there a Plan B? Back-up plans make it less intimidating to go after Plan A.

   There is one question I always consider when deciding whether or not to take a risk: “What’s the worst-case scenario?” What can I potentially lose, break, or damage – and can I afford to lose, break or damage that thing? What will chasing that dream cost me if it tanks? Will I lose a little money? some money? all my money? How much can I afford to lose? Same with time – how much lost is too much? (No matter what else it costs, pursuing a vision will always require time.) Will the time, effort or money I put into that dream cost anything in terms of relationships with family, friends or colleagues? Is there a risk to reputation? Health? And if any of these risks materialize, what then?

   What’s the worst-case scenario? And is there a fix?

Plan B is all about the fix. What will you do if the worst happens? That’s your Plan B.

   Now if you’re thinking that having a Plan B is for sissies, let me ask you this: Do you have car insurance? Life insurance? Home owners’ insurance? Medical insurance? Aren’t those all Plan B’s? If you get into a car accident (and that’s not Plan A) who will pay? Who gets sued? Not you – if you’re insured. Here’s another: some folks make a pre-nup before the vows in case the marriage goes, well, less favorably than hoped. Plan B. Or this Plan A: vacation on the Riviera. But if money’s tight, it’s Plan B: Peoria (Illinois, not Africa).  

   Face it – we all have Plan B’s.

   In Jane Austin’s Northanger Abbey, the not-so-nice Isabella becomes engaged to James Moreland – and stays engaged to him until she’s certain of an engagement to Captain Frederick Tilney who has way more cash. James, poor chap, is her Plan B; if she can’t find someone worth more, she’ll settle for James.  (I won’t tell you how that turns out.)

   I’m certainly not suggesting that your Plan B be a “settle” proposition but rather a plan in place to give you the courage to go after Plan A – to fulfill your dream and, ultimately, your destiny. Buy that beach house (to write in, of course) – just make sure you have flood insurance. House on the Pacific coast? Flood and earthquake insurance. Debating a college education? Go after that degree – what’s the worst that can happen? It’ll take longer than you thought? Time’s going to pass anyway; will you have anything to show for it? How about money – will your dream cost more than you thought? Maybe. But are you satisfied with your current wage?  Or what happens if you open that business and – worst-case scenario – it’s an epic fail? What then? It depends. Define “failure”. Does that mean that you have to debrief, regroup, remarket, and then take another crack at it? Or does it mean that you go bankrupt and lose everything? If, given the competition and the market, ruin is a possibility then perhaps the acceptable risk is too much. And if that happens, perhaps there is no fix.

   Maybe there is no Plan B.

   If there’s no possible Plan B for a worst-case scenario, then perhaps the better part of wisdom is to move on from that Plan A.

   What if there are no foreseeable catastrophic consequences should you experience a dream fail? For example, what if you write that book and then no one’s lining up to publish it? I can’t guarantee it’ll be published but I can guarantee what will happen if you don’t write it: for the rest of your life you’ll regret not giving it a shot.

   What if?

   That’s another essential question: What if I don’t activate Plan A? Will I be able to live with myself or will I regret it for the rest of my life? Regret is a bankruptcy of the soul for which there is no Plan B.

   So – formulate your Plan A, prepare your Plan B and – launch.

   The world is waiting.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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