The Luck of The Irish: Beachcombing on Elba

I have often wondered why I feel uncomfortable when people say, “You are so lucky!” I thought maybe my discomfort stemmed from having difficulty receiving help, gifts, compliments, etc. I realized this week, as my kids were building driftwood sculptures on the Mediterranean, I feel uncomfortable because “luck” implies that I had no part in creating this experience. I don’t feel lucky. I feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude. I also, however, feel gratitude when I am not so “lucky,” as others might say. I believe the hardship, in whatever form it shows up, was somehow, at some point, my creation.
It is a huge leap to take ownership of the good AND the bad. I am not willing to feel victimized by the “bad luck” anymore than I feel fortune from the “good luck.” It was my intention to be here now, so I am. There will continue to be many hard experiences that give birth to new desires. I own them all – not from a place of pride, surviving the hard, pounding my chest when the goings good. It is a place of deep appreciation for the knowledge that today, of all days, luck had no part in the events that occurred.

Irish Blessing 

Always remember to forget 

The things that made you sad. 

But never forget to remember 

The things that made you glad.

Always remember to forget

The friends that proved untrue.

But never forget to remember

Those that have stuck by you.

Always remember to forget

The troubles that passed away.

But never forget to remember

The blessings that come each day.