The card deck.
On the surface, it seems basic and ubiquitous. A set of 52 cards adorned with numbers, letters, and symbols.
The card deck is easy to use. It’s simple to transport. And it’s an easy party favor.
And yet, few who use such an item would define it as trivial.
Indeed, we tend to view card decks as vessels. As purveyors of fortune. As tickets to destiny.
This vision leaves us mesmerized by magic tricks. And it draws us into many card games – particularly ones where money is on the line.
We’re hooked by the notion of riding a hot streak and reaping the rewards. And we focus attention on yielding favorable outcomes, time and again. Even as a basic probability primer can illustrate how foolish this thinking is.
Yes, are all-in on a legend. One that says fortune is in our hands. But is that legend anything more than an illusion?
If card decks are vessels for fortune, luck is the construct that ties it all together.
While we find great value in hard work and grit, we also aspire to be lucky. We subscribe to superstitions and other tricks to improve our fortunes. We gravitate toward those for whom everything seems to go right, hoping that their good luck will rub off on us. And we turn away from those we deem to be unlucky.
This obsession with luck – it’s a powerful force in our society. One that’s devoid of even a shred of reality.
There is no such thing as a lucky card or a cursed one. Those are simply labels that we put on the ecosystem around us.
Our own experience drives these perceptions. So do the views of our community. And these twin forces converge to make the labels stick.
But no matter how much we invest in this house of cards, it still sits on a nonexistent foundation. A gust of wind is all that it takes to send everything crashing down.
As I write this, I’m amid what many would consider a roller coaster year.
The start was promising. I thrived in my job, acting on the vision I’d set for my nascent role. I traveled around the country – for work and for pleasure – garnering several first-class flight upgrades in the process. And I took on my first three half-marathons, posting better finishing times than I could have ever imagined in each.
Things were clicking for me. And when I won entry to the New York City Marathon – through a lottery system with a roughly 10% acceptance rate — it started to feel like a dream.
Others noticed my preponderance of good news. They started commenting about how lucky I was.
I didn’t buy into the hype, though. The way I saw it, I was bound for a regression.
Sure enough, that regression arrived fast and furious. I returned from a work conference slowed by a virus. Weeks later, I had a vacation upended by flight cancellations. Then, I suffered a running injury. That injury lingered for months, ultimately forcing my withdrawal from the New York City Marathon.
In the wake of these outcomes, the conversation around me started to change. My luck had turned, others around me pointed out. Some even stated that it just wasn’t my year.
I refused to buy into this narrative.
Yes, I’ve experienced a lot in the months before writing this column. Some of those experiences might have seemed more enjoyable than others. But ultimately, they weren’t good or bad. They were just…experiences.
The labels have no teeth. Fortune hasn’t smiled on me or turned away from my presence. I’m neither lucky nor unlucky for having run the gauntlet I did.
At the end of the day, things are as they were before. I continue to exist.
This description of my recent adventures might not win any popularity contests. After all, we’re looking to grow and excel, rather than merely exist.
But this assessment both accurate and insulating.
Stripping undue meaning from life’s adventures removes semblances of entitlement or worthlessness. It keeps us grounded, leaving wild emotional swings at bay. And it forces us to focus on what we can control, rather than what we can’t.
This is a challenging shift to make. But it’s a necessary one.
So, I’m leaning in.
Rather than wallowing in self-pity or waiting for the winds to change, I’m clinging to all that’s firmly in my grasp. Namely, my effort and my attitude.
Mastery of these attributes doesn’t guarantee me much in terms of outcomes. But that’s precisely the point.
Why share these adventures with you, dear reader?
For like it or not, we’re all swimming in the same ocean.
Remember that virus that I said I was afflicted with? It’s already wreaked havoc on all of us, whether we’ve caught it or not. It caused our whole world to shut down for a time, and it destroyed any assumptions of what we though we knew.
Yes, we’ve gone through an unprecedented period — one where normalcy was shifted on its head and many of our comforts and traditions were snatched from our grasp.
Many have called this period the worst of our lifetimes. Others have claimed that their fortunes turned in the eye of the storm.
But such descriptors are foolhardy.
No, we haven’t been unlucky. And we’re not necessarily on the brink of a change in fortune. We’ve simply lived through an experience that we hadn’t before.
It’s time that we reckon with that fact. Fully and completely.
That means ceding claims to ownership over affairs beyond our influence. It means doubling down on what we can control. And it means backing away from the allure of fortune.
Indeed, the more we remove these labels from our narrative, the less we’ll be whiplashed by the corresponding emotions. And the more steadfast and resilient we’ll be at navigating the uncertainty of life.
This shift might not be appealing, but it’s for our own good.
Cards are just laminated paper. Events are just dots on a timeline. And fortune is a legend, devoid of reality.
Act accordingly.