The Yin and Yang of Risk: Growing Through Discomfort

June 2, 2025¹

     Risk is one of those concepts we often view through a narrow lens—mostly associated with danger, uncertainty, or the possibility of failure. But over the years, I’ve come to understand something deeper about it: risk holds a powerful duality. It represents not just uncertainty, but possibility. The very things that make risk uncomfortable are the same things that make growth possible.

     I was reading The Psychology of Money by Morgan Housel, and one quote in particular stayed with me. He mentions how the odds of Bill Gates creating Microsoft were one in a million. At the same school, Gates' best friend, Kent Evans, tragically died in a mountaineering accident—a one-in-a-million tragedy. Two dramatically different outcomes, both rare, both real. And both underscore that risk isn’t inherently good or bad—it simply is.

      In my life, risk has never been about recklessness. It’s been about pushing the boundaries of comfort in pursuit of something meaningful. One of the most significant risks I’ve taken was moving halfway across the world from India to the U.S. for graduate school. At the time, the decision was overwhelming. The cost of education, exacerbated by a harsh currency exchange rate, meant taking on a massive student loan. I had no guarantee of a job afterward. Visa constraints, a volatile job market, and the looming pressure of financial responsibility made the decision feel precarious. But I did my homework. Santa Clara University, situated in the heart of Silicon Valley, offered the best odds. I evaluated job placement rates, proximity to tech companies, and the growing demand for computer science professionals. It wasn’t a leap of faith—it was a calculated jump.

     Still, that didn’t erase the discomfort. Risk is uncomfortable by nature. And the discomfort didn’t go away once I landed in the U.S. It followed me through every decision—working on campus to reduce my loan burden, studying late into the night, and worrying about post-graduation employment during a time when tech companies were laying off workers en masse.

     What I’ve learned is that discomfort is a compass. If you’re feeling it, you’re probably growing. Every time I’ve embraced that discomfort—whether in academics, career, or personal decisions—I’ve emerged stronger, more capable, more self-aware. This discomfort isn’t the enemy; it’s part of the process.

      Even after getting a job, that underlying risk hasn’t disappeared. In fact, it has evolved. In the world of tech, especially with the rise of generative AI, the landscape is shifting fast. There’s fear—understandably so—around what this technology could mean for our jobs and the future of work. But there’s also immense opportunity. Being part of an AI fellowship, I’ve had the chance to understand this space more deeply. It feels like we’re building a plane mid-flight—and that’s both terrifying and thrilling.

     Once again, risk emerges. But so does possibility. The potential to be part of something transformative. Maybe even revolutionary.

     Of course, not all risks pay off. I’ve made investments that didn’t succeed, goals that were too far fetched. But those experiences taught me another vital lesson: if the worst-case outcome of a risk still leaves you standing—still capable of trying again—then it was worth it.

     Ultimately, risk is unavoidable. Whether it's a career move, an investment, or a life decision, it's baked into the human experience. What matters is not avoiding it, but learning how to measure it, prepare for it, and—most importantly—grow from it.

     So, I keep taking risks. Not because I always know they’ll work out, but because I’ve seen how much I learn from trying. That’s been enough.

¹ This newsletter article was drafted with the support of OpenAI’s ChatGPT software