the luck of the pseudo irish (or, you know, short and plump red-head)

I’ve spent my life having people tell me that I’m lucky.  I was just born lucky. Isn’t that great?  Don’t you just wish you could give all your kids a lucky charm that protected them like that?   I’d pay big money for that.   Then I’d make my kids go out and drum up millions of dollars while I sat on the deck, knit, and drank coffee.   Where the hell is this lucky charm anyway?

ok, I think I have a point.  Stay with me here.

Lucky was one of those labels I had in childhood, to the point where I got to pick my Dad’s scratch-and-wins.  Once I won him $300 or something (I should probably clarify that story with my Mom  Mom?).

Even when I go and have my cards read I have had the psychics comment that I am a lucky person.  More than I has said it.  Once, in university, I got the highest mark on an exam in my last year of engineering and someone actually said to me “you’re so lucky.”   Instead of studying I guess I just spent the evening prior to the test shoving horseshoes up my ass.

I consider myself blessed in oh-so-many ways that I can’t even count.  The fact that I live here, next to this gorgeous ocean.  The fact that I am surrounded by amazing friends and family (I have an incredible family, it’s true.  The friends, though?  I’m taking full credit for hand-picking them).  The fact that I get to stay home and experience what it is like to really be with these children, in this place, in this time.  The very simple and incredible fact that I have three healthy, happy and normal little rottens.

All very lovely things, indeed.  But is it luck?

I consider myself blessed, certainly, but I have always believed that I’ve made my own luck.  Every single person I have ever met has had good and bad things happen to them and I am no exception.  I have always thought that my attitude and the attitude of the other lucky folk I know is really what set me apart.  You know, the whole when life gives you lemons crap.

well, the attitude, and a nice heaping dose of happy hormones.  I’ve got the happy hormones, so I feel good.  Feeling good makes it a lot easier to make lemonade because honestly, making lemonade is a lot of work.  It doesn’t make itself, you know.  It also helps that Michelle bought me a pretty new blender, too.

All this is a preamble to say that I’m reading “The Element” by Ken Robinson and in it he retells a story about an experiment.  Some guy (the book is upstairs and I’m WAY too lazy to go up and get it and properly quote it so you get “some guy”) was studying lucky and unlucky people and basically determined that lucky people have a better attitude and mindset.  But he did this little experiment that I thought was great.  He had a bunch of actors sitting in a coffee shop, and dropped a $5 bill on the ground.  Then he sent out one of the “lucky” dudes he was studying.  Lucky dude saw that $5 bill, picked it up, marched into the coffee shop and ordered himself, and the guy behind him, a free coffee.  Lucky dude then struck up a conversation with the guy, laughed and chatted and in the end exchanged contact information.  Then an unlucky dude was sent.  Unlucky dude stepped right over that $5 bill, ordered his coffee, didn’t interact with anyone, and left.  At the end of the day, they were both asked if anything great happened that day.  The lucky guy was all “yeah!  Free coffee!  Met a great person!”  and the unlucky guy was all “no.”.  Sure, he didn’t get a free coffee but honestly nothing great happened? Come. On.  You had enough free cash lying around to buy a damn coffee.  And you got to drink a coffee.  I bet it was hot.  That’s something.

I so would have found that $5.  And I’m not the only person I know who would have. When I’m out with Michelle we almost always see something really intersting, like a whale or a neat little bird I’d never seen before.  It’s not that those things aren’t around, it’s just that Michelle is looking for those opportunities and because of Michelle I now see more of those opportunities too.  When my Mom and I thrift together, we almost always walk away with an amazing find because we’re looking for it.  When she’s with me I see more potential because I’m talking with her and using her eyes and creativity too.

So while it does seem like opportunities fall into my lap, I think it is more likely that I’m a bit grabby and take the opportunities that were put in front of me.

So I guess my point here is to be grabby.  And look for $5 bills.

All that said, I was born and live in Canada.  Now THAT is a lucky thing. 

2 Responses to “the luck of the pseudo irish (or, you know, short and plump red-head)”

1. pogonip says:

   August 21, 2010 at 7:41 pm

   I couldn’t agree more, Amber. I’m lucky too and I know it’s mostly attitude allied to a bit of karma.
   .-= pogonip´s last blog ..Presto Change-O =-.
2. Mom says:

   August 23, 2010 at 2:25 pm

   Good test!! I heard a story about a young boy whose Mom used to pick him up from school. So he had to sit on the step and wait for her. Sometimes she was late, and he was scared and alone. As an Adult he had enormous abandonment issues and was depressed and suicidal. Another boy was in the concetration camps where he lost his family. After the war, he had to walk half way across Europe on his own to get to a place where they would take him to America. He was fine and successful as an adult. Interesting how attitude makes such a difference. Would we think the young man who made it across Europe after the war was lucky? Maybe. But he also had a lot more to complain about and didn’t!!

   I think we are all blessed to born and living in Canada. I certainly am lucky to be here!! Especially when I am retrieved from the ferry and greeted with the little baby laughing and smiling and acting like I am the best person she has ever seen in her whole life!!…Definitely blessed!