We don't make luck, and luck doesn't make us. Or it shouldn't. I believe in fortune, but not luck. I believe that if you put good things into the world, good things come back out, much like when I make my weirdo healthy pumpkin bread. Health in, health out, for both ovens and colons.
Anyway, I was putting Cleo to sleep tonight, and I was struck by the fortunate timing in my life. If I had not gotten pregnant with Cleo and had continued on that trajectory, we'd be living in our tiny apartment with no reason to move out, i'd probably be running the arts center and having to fight a coworker like two dogs over a rag every day, and I wouldn't have many friends. My hair would probably be falling out, and i'd still wake up to the sound of Craig smacking rats in the attic before they could sneak down and hop on the bed and chew my toes. We lived in the woods, and yes, that did happen.
But because of the exact timing involved, I not only have my perfect little dude, but I also live in a beautiful house in a wonderful neighborhood, have amazing mom friends, am building an awesome studio of interesting paintings, and did not have to attempt to follow in my mentor's footsteps at her death. I always wanted to run the arts center, I just don't want to do it right at this moment.
But because of that lovely lady Fortuna and a perfectly timed egg/sperm combination, I get to spend my days laughing with Cleo, painting, and playing with Heidi, Christine, Emile, Joanne, Ericka, Robin, Vicki, Tamar, the ICAN girls, the kriscoopers, and all sorts of fabulous women and their cool kids.
So, in conclusion, my path is mighty and my heart is light and my stomach is full of steak and veggies.