Luck

It is another morning and I stumble out of bed and nuke some water in order to make some instant coffee. Cat in. Cat out. Dog in. Dog out. The constant routine continues every day. My breakfast table is a table next to my chair where I gaze out at the trees blowing in the wind. Brain dead I wait for the coffee to kick in. I am bashing my internal muse as it is completely uncooperative and I have a deadline and I haven’t met it and it is today.

Seems lately this little drama has been being replayed over and over again in my little corner of the world. I need to write an essay on luck. All I can think of is: If it were not for bad luck, I would have no luck at all. Now that is inspiring. Just what people want to hear from Mother Myriam. I am supposed to be an inspirational writer and I am as inspired as a Polar Bear floating on a chunk of ice with the sun beating down in need of a towel, a bucket and a bicycle. A Polar Bear needs a bicycle as much as I need to calm down. Maybe I need a vacation?

No I need to get my inner drama over my morning coffee under control and get to work.

I just need some lucky inspiration to get myself going.

I begin to muse... what is luck?

I free associate trying to get some inspiration.

Luck is being aware of possibilities and acting on them.

Luck is an intuitive flash that somehow makes one turn down a different street and avoid an accident.

Luck is meeting one’s soul mate at the grocery.

Luck is if I finish my column today.

A friend once said that coincidences are God’s little miracles.

I need a little miracle today.

I really need some luck in getting this essay done.