M. Suzanne Terry

When I started thinking about my word for the year, one word kept coming to mind.

Lucky.

I balked at the word initially. I even tried to Christianize it (I blame my evangelical roots). I thought about blessed, but that fell flat. I believe God blesses me (and will continue to do so), but it seems weird to make goals on God’s behalf. And blessing is more of a noticing and being thankful thing than a make-it-happen thing. I’m very much a make-your-own-luck sort of girl (I think. It’s complicated. See below.). So I’m purposely stepping away from the more Christian-y terms.

I didn’t want lucky to be my word. I wanted something I could control or guide. Something I could actively seek. Something I could plot with color-coded charts and short-term goals that lead up to a big finish. But if it was that easy, wouldn’t everyone be lucky? Okay, not everyone. But as goal-driven and strategic as I am, if that’s the way it worked, wouldn’t it at least be easier for me?

I’m not really feeling lucky. In fact, for a while, I’ve felt like I’m a person for whom things just don’t work out. I’m not really excited about my job and I can’t think of a job I’d be excited about (except professional reader. I would be excited about that. Someone pay me to read.). I don’t have a lot of luck with relationships. Actually, relationships baffle me. I’m baffled about how to make something like that even get started, much less work long term. I think I am okay overall most of the time. Other people have worse luck, to be sure. But I have a nice little ho-hum life where nothing exciting really happens. Nothing that I would consider particularly lucky.

The day before Thanksgiving, I had a minor meltdown that blossomed into a panic attack. The trigger was all too familiar. The morning was going so smoothly until I went to check the oil in my car. It was low, which was not surprising. No big deal. I have been trained since I knew how to drive to always make sure there is oil in the back of my car (and if I lapse, I can always count on a new bottle magically appearing in my trunk when I visit my dad) for just such a circumstance. So I went to add some. The bottles were leaking in my trunk…where I had just put my bags for my trip home. I was so proud that I had made time to be able to load the car before work (plus I was going to be 30 minutes earlier than usual so that there was someone in the office during my coworker’s week off *pats self on back*). Then this. So the precariously stacked deck of “I’m fine – everything’s going just fine” came tumbling down (it did that a lot last year. A LOT.). I cleaned up the oil (thankfully, the bottles were in a larger tub, so the mess was confined to what dripped when I picked it up out of the tub). I moved my bags and all the other items in the trunk that I didn’t want smothered in oil (just in case the tub tipped over on the long trek to the farm) to the backseat (please no one break into my car during the workday). Did not add oil, because at this point, I’m running ridiculously late (so…not early at all, despite my careful preparation), and I had to change my clothes so that I didn’t smell like motor oil all day. Prayed my car made it home (it did, so at least there’s that).

And this is the story that runs through my head:

This wouldn’t have happened if:

– I had a job where I made enough money to afford a car that doesn’t burn oil like that’s its job.

– I knew how to take care of everything in my life with no assistance.

– I had time to take care of everything with no assistance.

– I had some damn assistance. Like…some permanent, obligated-by-legally-binding-contract-but-mostly-assisting-just-because-he-wants-to assistance. Which is to say I want a partner in a way that feels pathetic because I do feel pathetic that I can’t handle everything all the time. Not to say that a person who would be a good match for me would know the first thing about regular car maintenance. But maybe he could do the dishes while I figure it out. That would be nice. To handle things together, or at least to divide and conquer. Or perhaps just to have someone else who has a vested interest in seeing the problem resolved because it affects me and we are linked so the things that affect me affect him, too.

Of course, if I just had that great job, I could afford to outsource everything that I didn’t want to learn how to do. No partner needed. Problem solved. Kinda. Still want the partner. And wanting love is enough reason to have it. (/psa)

This year, I’d like to change this story. Ideally, of course, the part of the story I’d like to change the most is the plot (i.e., add meaningful job + livable wage + partner + etc.). To actually be lucky would be the easiest way to feel lucky.

But when do I do things the easy way? I wouldn’t even know what to do with myself.

I want to start by noticing the ways that I’m already lucky. I’m not talking about putting a positive spin on things that aren’t the way I want them to be. In my experience, that only results in the precariously balanced stack of “fine” that tends to come toppling down at inconvenient times to which I was referring earlier. I’m talking about noticing what I do have working for me so that I’m better equipped to enlist those qualities to change what I don’t like about my life.

I think. I actually have no idea how to turn my luck around. But that’s where I’m starting anyway.

I don’t want to waste time lamenting that I lack the discipline or training or talent or experience to make life work the way others make theirs work. First, I don’t actually think this is true, although I act like I think it’s true when I am feeling wallow-y. Second, there’s nothing stopping me from investing time, discipline, training, etc., in what does work for me.

I need something to work out this year. Not like “oh what a nice birthday I had” (although I do always enjoy it and expect that it will be super fun). But that isn’t enough anymore. The “at least I have my health” stories. I want something big.

I may ask for advice later, but I’m in the stewing stage right now.

I expect lucky to be empowering. And hard. And infuriating. And exciting. And refreshing.

I expect to be lucky this year.