Luck

I believe if I believe things are going to work out, then there’s a better chance that they will. I realize that this is mere superstition, but it’s a superstition I cleave to, even if it’s merely superstitious to do so.

Case in point: locating storage for the first run of Haulin’ Colin trailers has been a challenge; I’d all but given up on finding a place, but at the same time, I decided not to lose sleep over it. I had a couple of options—one of which was to distribute trailers around town at various people’s homes (an idea I haven’t completely forsaken)—but my best hope was for a garage down the street that I saw for rent a few weeks ago. I had tried to contact the owner without success and just today, was set to throw away the phone number that had been sitting on my desk all this time.

But lo and behold, when I checked my messages this afternoon, there was one from the women who owned the space, apologizing for not getting back to me sooner and informing me that yes, the unit was available and would I like to come by this afternoon and check it out.

I did and it’s perfect and now I’ve rented it and all will work out swimmingly.

I could have been freaking (since Haulin’ Colin is almost ready to get the first batch out of his shop) but, for some reason, I’ve been able to hold onto the thought that something would come up and I guess I’m enough of a hippie still to imagine that, in some small way, my belief that things would come together the way I hoped they would contributed to them doing so.

This is nonsense, I’m sure, but so what? The American Pragmatists defined truth, broadly, as “what works;” since it’s seemed to work to have this nonsensical belief, can’t I just say that it’s true?