Naming and Claiming the LUCK of the Irish!

Since St. Patrick’s Day is around the corner, I’m going to attribute the Luck O’ The Irish (though I’m Italian) to winning a speech contest, to winning a substantial gift certificate from the Canyon Lake Day Spa and to mending nicely after skidding off of my mountain bike (a couple of weeks ago). Emerald is my favorite gem and my favorite color of green. My favorite, female, musical artist is, Pink.

What’s LUCK got to do with the aforementioned?  I perceive that I’m very blessed (LUCKY), which lends to my occasional LAZINESS (the other L-word) and my overt dilly-dallying. Indeed, there are times when I put the PRO in PROCRASTINATION because I believe things WILL work out for the best without having to micromanage others.

I pray and meditate, visualizing the RESULTS I desire with the advent of a project or a transition. Of course, I’ve experienced innumerable faux pas, like the time I helped my son, Juan, with a fifth-grade, science project.  Not content with figuring out HOW popcorn pops (heat and moisture) or which type of adhesive is the strongest (Gorilla Tape), WE made a model of a heart which included a small, water fountain pump.

A trickling stream of red water traveled through color-coded, drip irrigation lines: blue for arterial blood flow and red for venous. Notwithstanding that Juan was 10 years old AND more of an athlete than an artist, I was so proud of the three-dimensional, interactive project, I was certain he’d win the science fair. The feedback from the judges reminded ME to keep such things ELEMENTARY, though my visualizations are ALWAYS grandiose, else what’s a vision for? To plod through the day? To wallow in frustration? To dismantle my vision board, tossing away the photos bearing wonderful, attainable goals? To create a science project, demonstrating a fifth-grade hypothesis about static electricity and LINT?

Sheesh! I’ve had innumerable moments of humility (tears), of abject frustration (more tears), of unbearable loss (non-stop tears). I’ve also danced with joy and achieved some fabulous goals, as I count my infinite blessings (luck?). Somewhere between the luck of the Irish, many mentors who freely imparted their know-how and my ensuing success, I SAW, I touched, I practiced, I failed, I tried a different approach and I kept moving forward, NO thanks to my MINISCULE persistence and infinitesimal patience. ALL good things come from God, but, hey – I was LUCKY enough to participate in many a divine OPPORTUNITY – ready or not!

My astute son is 16 years old, now, and his academic projects demand a little more intellect (which sometimes appears dormant).  In the fifth century, a 16-year-old, Marwyn Succat, was kidnapped in England and sold as a slave in Ireland. He was a captive shepherd for six years until he had a DIVINE VISION of a ship nearing to rescue him. The lad escaped to England, purportedly, reuniting with his family.

St. Patrick later returned to Ireland (when he was about 60 years old) as a missionary, using the three leafs of the shamrock to explain the Trinity in his evangelical messages. St. Patrick died on March 17, circa 461, when he was about 75 years old. St. Patrick was never formally canonized, nor did he drive out reptilian snakes from Ireland – rather, he drove out paganism, symbolized by the snake.

All things green symbolize Ireland. The first St. Patrick’s Day parade was held in New York City in 1762.  The Chicago River is dyed green for the day, as is MOST beer. St. Patrick’s Day connotes lil' leprechauns, rare, four-leaf clovers and the carte blanche to pinch someone who isn’t wearing green attire.

Folks, I JUST learned that the pot o’gold at the end of the rainbow is BLARNEY. 

When it rained a couple of weeks ago, TWO rainbows appeared in Menifee along the west side of the 215 freeway. As I was driving southbound, the semi-circular, transparent, prism of breathtaking colors followed.  I was so enchanted, I got off the freeway to follow the beckoning, holographic wonder to better stand IN IT and take a photo. When I moved, it moved, however.  I decided to marvel in the beauty of the morning, instead.

I’m also going to marvel in the beauty of being a longstanding member of Toastmasters International, as well. The collective clubs proffer a friendly, learning lab for honing public speaking skill.  Toastmasters also helps to develop leadership qualities. Both the speaking and the leadership roles (non-competitive) are  formally, earnestly and diplomatically evaluated by the marvelous members. www.toastmasters.org

Since winning our club’s speaking contest, I’m moving forward to more formidable competitions within Toastmasters, over the next month. I’ve done this before: FUN, FOOD and FELLOWSHIP are really the Grand Prizes!

I’m VISUALIZING winning (easy, breezy), certainly, by practicing the delivery of my speech. I'm also naming and claiming the luck of the Irish by throwing a little salt over my right shoulder, by placing a penny in my shoe and by hanging a decorative horseshoe above the front door. Erin Go Braugh!