I am a firm believer in luck. I believe that there are things out there that are beyond our control, and that good fortune happens upon people who did nothing to deserve it. I believe that the circumstances of which we hold no control hold a tremendous amount of control over us. I think that where we are born and and who we were raised by makes a huge difference in how our lives will turn out. However, I find myself alone on this stance.
When I ask someone, "Do you believe in luck?" I usually don't get an affirmative response. Maybe I am asking the wrong people, or not explaining myself well enough. I seem to get a lot of responses about things happening for a reason and I don't doubt they do, but if good things, or bad, happen and you have no control, I like to call it luck. I have a pretty good life. Lately it's been a bit of a mess but overall I live a good life. I have good parents, and good friends. I did nothing to earn my parents. My tiny 6 month old self did nothing to get to America, but out of sheer luck, here I am. My mother doesn't believe it was luck though; she believes it was God's plan. The almighty God's Plan. I'm never sure what to think about people who say that. If this world was God's Plan, than he should probably do some editing. But then if there is a reason to believe this plan exists, it's the fact that I am right here, right now, thousands of miles away from where I started out, with people I never would have known.
So luck, plan, I think it's one in the same. I know that's not the reasoning my mom would want to hear, but I think it's pretty sound. It's times when I feel like the plan is failing that I have to remember that I am still incredibly lucky.
When I ask someone, "Do you believe in luck?" I usually don't get an affirmative response. Maybe I am asking the wrong people, or not explaining myself well enough. I seem to get a lot of responses about things happening for a reason and I don't doubt they do, but if good things, or bad, happen and you have no control, I like to call it luck. I have a pretty good life. Lately it's been a bit of a mess but overall I live a good life. I have good parents, and good friends. I did nothing to earn my parents. My tiny 6 month old self did nothing to get to America, but out of sheer luck, here I am. My mother doesn't believe it was luck though; she believes it was God's plan. The almighty God's Plan. I'm never sure what to think about people who say that. If this world was God's Plan, than he should probably do some editing. But then if there is a reason to believe this plan exists, it's the fact that I am right here, right now, thousands of miles away from where I started out, with people I never would have known.
So luck, plan, I think it's one in the same. I know that's not the reasoning my mom would want to hear, but I think it's pretty sound. It's times when I feel like the plan is failing that I have to remember that I am still incredibly lucky.
