"Make your own luck" she said.
I had no idea what she meant, but the have words stuck with me for over 15 years.
"You'll never run with the gangsters, but you're not a lucky person - you must make your own luck. Remember you saw me in the year of the Horse."
And then she was gone, leaving a memory - a moment I cant forget.
These are the memories that stay with you, along with all the others you'd rather forget. The missed opportunities, viewed with 20:20 hindsight are the worst - times when different decisions could have shaped a different life - if one was so inclined.
What will be - will be, was the way I looked at life. I didn't realise that through this all, I was waiting for luck to make me.
It's funny that some people would think I plan too much, when in the harsh light of day, I know I never planned at all. Drifting, I took what was offered - maybe more, and for the longest time that was fine. Yes, I know what's done is done. Yes - I know you cant go back and do it over again. But that's the problem isn't it. Knowing all this doesnt make it any better.
I guess the saving grace for us all is the knowledge that part of coping in this life, involves a certain acceptance of who we are - not what we could have been.
Perhaps you find yourself asking;
How do I measure up?
Am I a good person?
Are my motives pure?
The questions we ask differs for each of us. Some people, true to their form, never ask these questions of themselves: we are all so different.
All those words of comfort are fine and dandy, but all the acceptance in the world is cold comfort, when we know the past is set in stone. Perhaps this is the only real truth we have.
But, when life affords you look at what could have been, it's harder to accept a different outcome - realising it was your own fault for not making your own luck a little more often.
The gypsy was right - I just didn't quite understand until now.
