L is for Luck

Photo Credit: a five-leaf clover via Sunfell on Flickr.

It’s been a bad week. The moral is probably something like “never buy a car during Mercury Retrograde”, but I honestly don’t have much of a choice.

A phone call to the insurance company on Saturday resulted in nothing going through except for charges—which meant paying to insure a car without any coverage. I had to call on Monday to do it all over again. So many errands just for misplaced paperwork. Yesterday, I went to register the car at the DMV, but didn’t have proof of the seller’s status as executrix of the deceased owner’s estate. So I ran off to get such proof from her and returned with a photocopy, only to find out that the DMV would only recognize the security-embossed original document.

And this is just buying a car—when I sat down to write this post, internet service completely ceased for an hour.

Mercury Retrograde. Bad luck. Whatever you want to call it, it’s unpleasant. But it is also, to some extent, both inevitable and without guarantee.

When writing about the Creator of my pantheon, I spoke of the importance of the multiverse in my cosmology. The possibility of anything occurring, given infinite time and infinite universes, eventually becomes 100%. Yet I am limited, half-perceiving only one stream of time, never knowing when the possibilities become what is here and what it is not here. I cannot choose where my universe will go, what will happen in it. I can steer myself in the river, but I cannot control the current, and the course is charted on a map I do not possess.

Of course, this means no pattern is unbreakable. There is no unavoidable fate. If a coin tossed 50 times has come up heads each and every time, there remains the possibility that it will come up tails. Even if it is rigged, that possibility exists. It can still happen. Every plan can go awry; every prophecy can fail; every miracle can happen.

Somewhere in the multiverse, a man like me is having the best week of his life. Possibly because of Mercury being in retrograde. A toast to that man, then, the man I might have been, and to the luck that might yet come.

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