Serendipity-doo-dah

Woody Allen’s thriller, Match Point, is about luck. (The protagonist’s baby is born and wished “luck” which, after sitting through the lengthy lead-up to the movie’s end, we understand is the best thing a person can hope for). Some people have it; some don’t. It seems to me that most of us are luck-neutral and pass through life’s ups and downs without much thought about them being more than “life” itself.

I have a child who is lucky. In many ways, he makes his own good fortune because he is brighter than most, a social mensch and in most other ways quite able. The world is his oyster. He never thought about any of this while he was growing up, for it no doubt seemed to him that he was no different than any of his friends and acquaintances. The awareness of his luck came gradually sometime during his twenties after a string of serendipitous events landed him in the enviable position of earning a six-figure salary doing a job he absolutely loves – despite being a history major.

Now, at age 29, he has begun to think about this girl called Lady Luck. Although previously taken for granted, he begins to appreciate her part in his life, and - like a lover who has become too comfortable in his love affair - begins to consider what it might mean to lose her. This new awareness doesn’t hang heavy on him, but perhaps it is beginning to slightly color his decision-making. Maybe that’s a sign of maturity. Maybe it’s a good thing; but if one stops taking good luck for granted - if one settles for present comfort rather than risking the unknown (and the chance that his luck will run out) - does life cease to be serendipitous?