I don’t believe in luck. There, I said it. I believe there are the creation of good circumstances, and being open, and making your chosen reality out of decent decisions, and tough choices and following, even if it’s hard, the path you feel to be true in that particular moment. So today, as the chocolate pound cake was baking and the substantial haul from the farmers’ market was being put away and organized into meals in my mind, I decided to work with the concept of luck.
I used reframing and realized that I suppose I am lucky, in my way. I have been through more than my share of scrapes in my life, escaped poverty, and bad jobs and worse boyfriends and, heck, even survived a life-threatening illness last year. More on that soon, since I’m finally figuring out how I want to talk about this. But for the longest time I never looked at it that way. I thought I had managed, through sheer moxie and street smarts, to pull myself out of various situations. Arrogantly I suppose, I thought it was me who had made it all work out.
Now, after many years spent directing energy for healing purposes, I know that’s not entirely true. I know that we’re always directing energy, always, even if we’re not aware of it. I know we do this inside our bodies, and even in the area right around us. I know we do this in our minds. So how much of it is luck, and how much is us? If it’s not conscious, is it entirely an external force?
After I got my terrible diagnosis and went through what I went through to heal, I thought about getting the word lucky tattooed on my body someplace. I go back and forth between thinking it’s life affirming and that it might somehow might attract bad fortune, just to fuck with me once something unremovable has been inked onto my skin. But that’s the way it felt — as if I had been given a second chance, a new life, and that the old one simply wasn’t going to do anymore.
So maybe I do believe in luck, a little. Maybe the universe has shown me, in no uncertain terms, that it’s there, and that it helps to create my reality right alongside me. Maybe today, and tomorrow, and forever, my old way of being isn’t even going to dare to peek it’s little head up anymore. That ship has sailed and it’s onward now, to whatever’s ahead. Personally, I can’t freakin’ wait.