If you were to ask, I'd say yes, I've been lucky. I have my health, an imperfect and entirely lovable family, and good, true friends scattered across the globe; and in addition to already having been able to "live a lot", I've enjoyed the ease that comes with generally being treated well by others. But recently, I've considered how we create our own luck--that maybe it's neither an aligning of stars nor fortunate drawing of cards, but rather a reflection of our actions in the world. We are fully cable of viewing what we've been given with humble gratitude and then creating additional "more". Is satisfaction not little more than the perceived belief our needs and expectations have been graciously met? And is contentment not the gentle appreciation of our genuine efforts in it all?
As luck would have it, I'm sharing this city with the bestest, most thoughtful copains, my Craigslist roommate and apartment are pretty wonderful, and work has already been stimulating in all the right ways. It's also worth mentioning how impressed I've been with the cultural constrasts, and sunshine, and charming design permeated throughout. And though driving through traffic may take getting used to, I suppose I've missed the convenience of having a car at all. "I'd really like to stay awhile" I wrote to a friend in nervous-anticipation. It's worth noting I'd likely still say the same, now two weeks later and a resident. Perhaps that's what lucky is.