You’re shot in the arm during a bank robbery.
Are you lucky or unlucky? No, this isn’t a trick question.
Score your reaction below:
Wherever side of the scale you fall on, many humans think the opposite1, and each position leads to vastly different outcomes.
A failed book publisher named Stephen gave the scenario a ‘-2' and noted: “…how can this situation be considered lucky, unless, of course, you enjoy getting shot?”
But a private investigator named Marvin scored it a +3, and said “It's lucky because you could have been shot in the head — also, you could sell your story to the newspapers and make some money.”
If the feeling of luck or ill-luck was the only thing at stake, it wouldn’t matter much.
But it’s not.
“Lucky people see what is there, rather than trying to find what they want to see,” said Psychologist Richard Wiseman. “As a result, they are far more receptive to any opportunities that arise naturally.”
Wiseman’s studies have found “unlucky” people miss opportunities (like money on the sidewalk they could find), ignore important hunches, and otherwise miss good things luck-oriented peers notice. They’re also unsurprisingly less happy.
Wiseman published several books examining how luck is a frame of mind that can be taught, but the approach I’ve found most helpful is pretty simple.
Child of an Empty Glass:
My mother proclaims herself a “glass-half-empty sort of person.” My father struck me as more even-keeled, but I can’t imagine him having a positive assessment of a gunshot wound. Whatever the case, I emerged from childhood with a pretty negative cast of mind.
Given the autoimmune disease that frequently left my intestines bleeding and several other health challenges, many won’t find that unreasonable. But I soon realized I was a killjoy much of the time.
More importantly, I was horrible at the Stoic game, which I increasingly recognized as the most important thing in life. I was getting trounced. If I wanted to improve, I needed to find a cast of mind that didn’t pummel me at every setback.
“It is my bad luck that this has happened to me. No, you should rather say: ‘It is my good luck that, although this has happened to me, I can bear it without pain, neither crushed by the present nor fearful of the future.’ Because such a thing could have happened to any man, but not every man could have borne it without pain. So why see more misfortune in the event than good fortune in your ability to bear it?”— Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, 4.49
Rewiring myself took effort, and it’s an ongoing project. But I now think about how lucky I am by default, which generates gratitude and positive emotion. “Lucky,” stopped being an act long ago. It’s something that just is.
How did I do it?
I learned to reanchor away from whatever negative interpretation came naturally and onto whatever “take” offered hope, growth, and a virtuous choice.
The difference is best summed up by the freed slave Publius Syrus. He wrote, “Contra felicem vix deus vires habet2,” or “A god has little power against the lucky man.”
This seems like a paradox. Don’t gods have power over fate and luck? Can’t they curse someone or destroy everything he holds dear?
Maybe, but a lucky man isn’t lucky because good things happen to him. A lucky man is lucky because of the way he interprets fate. If he sees each setback as something to make him stronger or better, not even divine intervention can take his luck away.
Life is just life. Events are value-neutral. Lucky and unlucky are the two handles you can use to pick them up. One handle offers a pleasant grip and leads to good things. The other isn’t quite so fun.
The choice is yours.
Wiseman, Richard John. “The Luck Factor. The Scientific Study of the Lucky Mind.” Revised edition. 2011.
This hit close to home - 11 months prior to you writing this I was staring at the black circular end of a 9mm a mere 8’ from me. TLDR I emerged unscathed, feeling not only lucky, but grateful. Yeah, I’ve had some panic attacks and fitful nights’ dreams in which things go sideways, but the luck and gratitude is steadfast. This piece, though, has me reframing further and finding joy not only in reflections on the aftermath, but in this very moment. 🙏🙏
Inescapably logical take Andrew. Much harder, for whatever reason, to implement in practice.