In a recent text to my son I called him “lucky pants”.

“Why did you call me lucky pants?” he texted back.

“Because you are.”

“How so?”

You have an amazing life. Your work is gratifying. You have your own apartment. You have a jazzy new motorcycle. You have a truck that’s works. You have awesome friends. You have a beautiful girlfriend. You have a family that loves you…etc.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

When I was a teenager, emotional health was not a topic of conversation in the classroom nor in the home. To be honest, I did not even know emotional health was missing in my life.

In the 60’s, Norman Vincent Peal’s The Power of Positive Thinking was pivotal for me. How this book came to me I do not remember, however, I do remember carrying around a list of all the precious moments in my life I had accumulated thus far. My list grew daily.

Since then, I have spent the vast majority of my life looking for and acknowledging what is working, what makes me feel good, where the joy is. I am fortunate enough to be married to a “make it work” kind of guy so raising our children on the practice of hope and delight was a mutual effort.

Telling someone they are a “lucky pants” is my way of focusing on hope and  laughter. It costs me nothing to do this, and the dividends are enormous.

To my delight I came across a similar viewpoint in my current read: the War of Art by Steven Pressfield  (Black Irish Entertainment LLC, 2002). In his introduction Pressfield shares his morning routine (grooming, breakfast followed by emails etc.). He then proceeds to get lucky.

I’ve got my coffee now. I put on my lucky work boots and stitch up the lucky laces that my niece Meredith gave me. I head back to my office, crank up the computer. My lucky hooded sweatshirt is draped over the chair, the lucky charm I got from a gypsy… my lucky name-tag… my lucky acorn… 

I’ve got my own pair of lucky pants on right now!

 

You gotta try your luck at least once a day,

because you could be going around lucky all day and not even know it. 

 

Jimmy Dean (sausage mogul/country singer)