I’m worrying today, hoping for a little luck, knocking on wood for some fairy help, calling St. Patrick. (Com’on!)
We want to continue to live in Aarhus, the city where we can live our stroller outside, drink healthy juices on every corner, and stroll down quirky old streets that have no clue of an industrial harbour.
May the luck of the Irish be with me. Please luck, come as you are. Come like the sun comes after the rain. Follow me with rainbows and lush green.
I want to walk out of the door today feeling lucky, like the world has trusted me with a push into the infinite causality of positive effects, so I can go ahead and do that: hit the ball, make the jump, score a triple, finish that project, beat all real estate ninjas with a kick.
And find an apartment in Aarhus.
It’s hard. Real estate trouble. The accommodation issue that hits me back (in the head) every now and then. The issue that follows my nomad life decisions, like a boomerang, reminding me that I’m still fighting, walking, waiting. So I’m looking for rainbows and gold pots and drunk fairies. A little luck, just because it is March.
Where I come from (hey, I’m Colombian!), it is said, when wishing success upon someone’s endeavour, “Te deseo exitos, porque la suerte es para los mediocres”. It means- I wish you success, because luck is for mediocre/losers. In Spanish, if someones says “suerte” to you (luck), it almost never includes the word good, as in “buena suerte”. It feels like your goals are difficult and doomed and that you could maybe achieve them with a bit of luck. It suggests that there is a chance of things going go wrong and that -phew! God knows you need luck. It is like –It is hard and it can go wrong but -hey, you could get lucky. So you don’t wish luck to the people you like. You wish them success. Luck, or bad luck, is an excuse for failing, for not working hard enough.
But, today, I will reconcile with my luck. I will raise the glass for all those who are embarrassed of attributing some goodness to their own plain good luck, holding shame and hiding it in their pockets. Because I have always felt a little guilty of having lucky outcomes, a touch of random, being on the right place and the right time, finding my phone every single time I lose it while making friends on the way. My out-of-control range is quite powerful, and it somehow keeps me alive. My luck, or my star, as I call it, is also the bump on the road, the rock, the mountain.
And when I lose hope, I sometimes remind myself of how I CAN be lucky, and that being lucky is OK.
Murphy says: Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong. I say anything that can be fine, will be fine.
It is not all hard work (and boligportal.dk). You need a little luck.
I have decided I don’t want my thought processes to excluded luck when success comes to mind. Murphy will not be the only guy called to the meeting room today. I have options:
#1. Think that good-good things can come from a probability outside mathematics and statistics. I want to relax sometimes on the confidence of spontaneous decisions- opening up to new things. If there is a chance of thing going well and brilliant, they will.
#2. Reconcile with my star and be grateful. Look her in the eye. Say thank you.
I have been lucky many times while developing products, guiding each one of my babies to life with a bit of luck, playing out the infinite number of interlocking causes. I was lucky to spot Fede (my husband) across the room, looking at his ice in his glass of rum, moving his eyes across the room to stop on mine. I was lucky to catch that flight. I was lucky to be in Denmark the 29th of April. I was lucky for an AirB&B host that opened the door of her house one day, and forever changed it all.
Synchronicity. Serendipity. All the friends I have made on the way. I was lucky. Time, space and every single one of you.
and #3. Give back. So, I want to wish ninja luck- the luck of the Irish, to everyone. I wish you all moments of rightness: the right song on shuffle, the right bus stop, the right bus, the right seat, the right amazing person next to you. You can make it right.
Good luck is contagious. Spread it out. Tell your sceptical friends: It will be fine. Relax. You are with me. (wink!).
If you are been spinning around avoiding failure because your very reliable “bad luck” will be there waiting for you, let go. Open your hands and let go. Why keep dancing with your Mr. Murphy ghost if you can choose to be ready for the stars. But be ready. Do your bit. 😉
Read more about Murphy’s law here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Murphy%27s_law
I dedicate this post to my irish angel David Conlon, still present. Every time I touch wood, I think of you. I was very lucky to meet you.