Luck Be a Lady… A Stroke of Luck … Good Luck… Luck of the Irish … Outta Luck … Better Luck Next Time … Lotsa Luck … Lucky Dog … Lucky at Cards, Unlucky in Love … Beginner’s Luck … Don’t Push Your Luck …

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I believe in luck: how else can you explain the success of those you dislike?”

Jean Cocteau

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I don’t buy lottery tickets.

I don’t go to casinos and sit at the blackjack table for hours even though you can almost smell the rich scent of cash wafting through the air of the casino.

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I don’t visit bingo halls (except as a fundraising volunteer), even though – until a couple of years ago- you can almost smell the rich smoky tobacco flow wafting through the air of the chamber.

I don’t creep into narrow-doored massage parlours or “Cat Houses” knowing I’ll get lucky just by plunking a sweaty wad of cash or my charge card on the counter.

I didn’t get to choose my parents. I didn’t get to choose where I was born. I didn’t get to choose when I was born.

It all comes down to LUCK.

luck |lək|:

success or failure apparently brought by chance rather than through one’s own actions

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And yet, I’ve always rejected luck as a factor in my life. And I think I’m about half right.

For if luck doesn’t truly exist, then what words would you use to describe how I could be born at this amazingly wealthy, relatively peaceful time in history – in a tranquil locale such as Canada?

Luck is a two-headed beast.

It does exist, although maybe not in the time and place where most of us would like.

One head of the luck beast lies in our genes, our history, and in the air and atmosphere that surrounds us every day.

Luck is a prenatal event that transforms slowly as we jettison from between our Mommy’s legs.

We emerge into the light with the potential of both good and bad before us: the genes that determine a portion of what we will become, and a place in the world that will make our rise either easy or hard.

Once that first breath has been absorbed and we’ve screamed our first “WTF”, luck gradually melts and blends into the ether of a netherworld that drifts away like vanishing water vapour clouds in the hazy background of our lives.

Or maybe luck is like Santa Claus; a wonderful, red-suited, generous benefactor that gives us dreams and limitless possibilities.

By the time we reach our adulthood, the misty vision of Santa or luck is now just a faint but happy memory. We reflect on it with lament but realistic thought tells us that the true source of the gifts beneath the tree is us.

Yes Virginia, once we’re catapulted from the womb and move forward in years, we create our own luck.

I’ve often lacked patience with those who blame the world and its denizens for their fate. When the wind blows a tree over my house, I can utter the words, “Tough Luck”, but then I need to make things right, right?

When I lose a job, I can (and will) cry for a day and then find a way to make my “luck” return.

If I wait around for luck to bestow its gifts, I’ll pass my life in anxious anticipation of something out of my control.

Instead, I’ll continue to choose to make my luck and if it turns out not as well as I had hoped… Well, that’s a life lesson that I need to take and transform for my future gain.

And with any luck, that transformation won’t be happening in a casino or at a lottery ticket counter!
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  • “Go and wake up your luck.”Persian Proverb.

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PS. My friends, I’m off playing and learning in Morocco right now so the next blog post or two will be “travel blogs”. Come travel the northern part of Africa with me and see what mischief I can create. With “luck”, we’ll uncover some fun and funny happenings!!

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