It’s All Our Lucky Days

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For years, I’ve rejected the term “lucky”.

To be called “lucky” always felt as if good things happen to you accidentally.

You claim the parking spot at the front, “You are so lucky.”

You get to travel the world and see amazing sights? “ Wow — so lucky!”

You live by the beach? “ Oh! So lucky!!”

But what about all of us who work pretty damn hard for our fortunes?

What about those of us who sacrifice, who scrimp and save? Those who study their butt off to qualify for a good job they finally land? Those who grind at the workplace to make ends meet or save like mad to travel and snap those wildly Instagram-able shots in iconic places?

Surely, luck is what happens when preparation meets opportunity. Someone famous once said that, and I believe them.

“Blessed” is another word I’ve shrugged off. When someone tells me I am “blessed”, I do understand this is laced with kind intentions. But it just feels too churchy for me to trust it. Although, I say “bless you” all the time when others unleash their sneezes or pop with untimely hiccups.