Lucky

Just because you don’t believe in something, doesn’t mean it’s not real. Or true.

I used to believe I was lucky.

When I was a child, I was often hurt. I bruised easily, fell frequently, took more than my share of tumbles. But every time I got back up, I thought, “Whew, that could have been a lot worse! I’m pretty lucky.”

This caused a mindset that – while I didn’t justify injuries – I always looked on the bright side.

Twist an ankle? At least it’s not broken, and I heal fast.

Ankle in a cast? Lost the job at the country club? No worries, I get to work at the drive-in with my best friend and see my boyfriend.

Fall down a flight of stairs? Crack a vertebra in my neck? Lucky! Could have broken it in half!

I believed that if I were held up in traffic, it was the work of my guardian angel. She was protecting me from encountering something worse by slowing me down and keeping me out of harm’s way.

Until I fell down on a boat. And my dad died. And I lost my right eye. And am still fighting to save my left eye. And had my heart broken again. And … And … And …

And somewhere in there, I had a crisis of faith. Is there a god? If so, why do some people have so many hardships? Is life a testing ground meant to be difficult? Sort of like, life is hard and no one ever said different.

Or is there a happy plan for everyone, they just have to find out what it is? Don’t worry, god will take care of everything. It’ll all work for the best. You’ll be ok.

Or do you wonder, like me, how can one person be expected to survive all of this? Physically, mentally, spiritually?

Everyone’s path is their own. Mine diverged from Catholic a while ago. I still believe in a god, but I don’t think god is a he. I think there is room in god for her. I believe in a kind god, and angels, and love. I believe in a god who loves to dance. I believe in the energy that runs through us all, through the universe, that draws us together. I have believed in the philosophy of taoism for decades. A philosophy that advocates, among other things, quiet over noise in order to learn and grow. Peace over conflict, anger, and judgment. And kindness.

I still believe I’m lucky. To have been in Victoria when I fell. To have received excellent medical care. To have had someone looking after me and making sure I was ok. To have had a guardian angel to help me when it all fell apart again. To have family and friends, old and new, to love me.

And to be able to say that I have had the cataract surgery that was once so feared. And it was a success. That I can see. That I do not need to have retinal surgery. That I will drive again soon. And that despite it all, somehow I am going to be ok.