My mom often jokes about me getting the hair in the food.
“Oh, you got the hair!” she proclaims, as if I have won a prize. Or, in an attempt to act supportive, “Ohhhhh, did you get the hair?” she says sullenly.
Most of the time the hair has been in the meals we have at home. Other times, it’s been in meals we’ve eaten in restaurants or at other people’s houses. Sometimes the hairs are long like a head hair; sometimes shorter, like eyelashes.
Hair in food is the kind of luck that I can’t say I had any influence on: it just happens. This is just my kind of luck. It grosses me out, and typically results in me not finishing the provender I was happily consuming.
There’s the kind of luck that’s considered good and the kind that is regarded as bad. We wish people good luck before events in their lives. Or, we wish people good luck sarcastically when we know no good will come of their experience. I’m not sure I’ve ever heard anyone wish someone “bad luck”, but I know, at times, we’ve all probably wished it upon another.
Luck could be thought of as opportunity. Opportunities missed- bad luck. Opportunities taken- good luck.
If we held a comparison chart up against one another, who would have the most incidents of bad luck and good luck? I estimate that within a lifetime, we all have our share of luck.
Is luck a perception? Reality? I googled “what is luck?” and found a medly of science-based peer-reviewed articles about the perception of luck. Most matches connotated that there was psychological analysis associated with the idea of luck.
Steven Gordon, a child and family therapist (LCSW-R) located in Commack, NY., addressed the same questions I was asking myself with his 2003 paper “What is luck?”:
“Maybe luck is just an illusion that takes the form of something that
seems like something, rather than nothing. I like to think it is there. I also
like the idea that we are authors that can shape or write our lives, and
that we are our choices. The fact that we have choices is lucky.”
Gordon and I corresponded by email regarding my blog post. I assured him I’d properly cite his work to which he replied “all right. good luck.”
Did he intend to wish me “good luck” because he knew I was writing on the abstract notion of luck? Or was it just a commonly acceptable idiom? Either way, I’ll take that good luck token and pocket it for future use.
In reflection, it might be possible to see that without our bad luck, our good luck wouldn’t be so profound. Sometimes our bad luck becomes good stories.
I still get the hair sometimes which I consider bad luck. But, most of the time, I don’t get the hair which I consider good luck.
That’s just my kind of luck.