bewize | LJ Idol 01: When the Little Things Matter Most

Recently, I had dinner with a friend. We were in a restaurant and the room was filled with the happy buzz of people conversing and the wonderful smells of food. I reached out to grab the Splenda for a cup of coffee when it happened.

I spilled the salt shaker over and salt tumbled out on the table.

My friend laughed at me, as I expected her to, and I shrugged it off with a rueful grin and a pinch of salt over my left shoulder.

That's right. I did it.

I throw salt over my shoulder when I spill it.

The all knowing internet told me that the superstition about throwing salt over your shoulder results from about a billion years ago when salt was used as currency and spilling it was akin to throwing money away. Basically, spilling salt was a sin and throwing it over your (evil) left shoulder with your (good) right hand kept the devil away.

***************

The other day, I was running late to a meeting. I left my house, shirt half-buttoned (shut up, I was really late!), jacket tossed over on my shoulder, phone in my hand to call my client and tell him that I was going to be a few minutes late when I saw it.

On the ground, to the right of my foot was a glint of copper.

I backtracked, and in a feat of maneuvering, which I still cannot explain, managed to hold my shirt closed, not drop my files, finish my phone conversation, hang on to my cup of coffee and pick up the penny.

That's right. I did it.

I pick up pennies when I see them on the ground.

Again, the internet tells me that in the days of yore, metal was considered a gift from the gods. Keeping it around you could ward off evil, and apparently, keeping a penny wrapped in paper will ward off creditors.

***************

On the last really pretty day of summer, I took a book and a blanket and read in a park in my apartment complex. After reading about sixty pages, I turned to my side and saw a patch of clover and flowers and elected to make a daisy chain. That's when I found it.

Nestled amongst its three leafed brethren, I found a four leaf clover.

I actually made a verbal noise of excitement, more commonly known as a "squee" and very carefully separated it from the surrounding grass, plucked it. I pressed it and then protected it in a plastic cover. It's in my wallet now for luck.

That's right. I did it.

I look for four leaf clovers and keep them when I find them.

Again, I had to rely on the internet to find out that each leaf means something different: fame, wealth, love and health. Personally, I just thought they were lucky, especially when found by accident, and should be kept to encourage good luck to find me.

***************

When my sister came to visit me over the summer for her birthday, I drove us around the city. Evening came, and with that, came the turning on of car headlights. Despite the fact that neither of us have been in high school in a decade, when we get together, we revert. That's when it began.

We rounded a corner and saw a car with one headlight.

Both of us kissed our hands and shot them up the roof, yelling "Padiddle" at the top of our lungs. Then we proceeded to argue about who got there first, and who won the luck.

That's right. I did it.

I played Padiddle in an effort to "win" luck for noticing the one-headlight car on the road.

The internet tells me that I've actually been playing this game wrong, and could have instead been forcing people in my car to get drunk or get naked. Note how this is not so dissimilar from many people's definition of "lucky."

***************

Now I'm a modern woman and I don't worry about broken mirrors (and I'm clumsy enough that it's a potential problem). I open umbrellas indoors to see if they're broken. I adore black cats and don't care if birds sing on my windows. If I smoked, I'd be happy to be the third on a match.

Yet, every time I spill salt, I throw it over my shoulder. I always pick up pennies when I find them on the ground. Spotting a four leaf clover makes my entire week. Games of Padiddle with my sister (or other friends who know it) make me laugh.

At the end of the day, none of this brings me luck. But it does bring me a tiny bit of happiness, and isn't that the point anyway?

I believe that we make our own luck in this world. I know a lot of people disagree with me, and that's okay. I have no hard evidence and I certainly can't explain why bad things happen to good people, or vica versa, but I suspect it has something to do with our outlook on life.

Look for silver linings.

Find the hidden blessings.

All those clichéd truisms that just piss me off when I'm in a bad mood.

It's likely that I'm just deluding myself into thinking that I have a tiny bit of control in a life that is otherwise free falling, but I'm okay with that. All of these little superstitions can be considered empty gestures in the grand scheme of things.

But, when I threw salt my friend laughed…

… and when I found that penny, I added it to my pickle jar piggy bank and grinned at the clink and…

… the four leaf clover in my wallet reminds me of warmer days filled with pleasant pastimes and…

… I will never not find the world Padiddle giggle-worthy.

Sometimes, the empty gestures are the ones that matter most. It's all in how you look at it.

This entry was written in response to the

therealljidol Topic 01: Empty Gestures. There will (probably) be voting for this week's entries. I will make sure to link to the poll once it is put up and I would appreciate it if you would vote for me if you enjoy my entry. As always, feedback is welcome and appreciated.

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dabhug.livejournal.com

Lovely. Nice job.

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LJ Idol 01: When the Little Things Matter Most

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