The Luck o’ the Mare-ish

Four leaf clovers make good eating

Walking with Trudy around the ranch where she and Ty live, we were enjoying the green of the trees and new grass coming up in the fields. So much of the year in Southern California is dry and dusty but after some unusually heavy rains, right now everything is lush and green. Passing a field of clovers, I wanted to take a look for one with four leaves. Trudy just wanted me to move out of her way so she could munch. There’s no magical clover searching for her, just a rare chance at grazing some fresh green grass. For Trudy, luck is where you make it.

When I was looking for a Tennessee Walking Horse, it seemed like there weren’t any nearby to be had. But just as we were planning our trip to Tennessee, Trudy became available. Her appearance in my life started an amazing journey, prompting a new creative focus and a realization of a life’s dream. It seemed like luck that we found each other.  Or was it just good timing and the result of my trainer putting out feelers with her contacts and laying the groundwork?

Hoping for more fortune this year than in the last, I did something I wouldn’t normally do and joined a Manifesting and Meditation Challenge.  The idea being that you would focus on something profound you want to happen in your life this year and over three weeks you do visualization and writing exercises along with intense meditation, opening yourself up to having this blessing, this desire, come into your life.

When I say it’s not something I would normally do, it’s because my rational brain struggles sometimes with the idea of “magical thinking”.  

I’ve long been a believer in meditation. Studies have proven time and again how beneficial meditation can be for managing stress, lowering blood pressure, calming the mind, and overall mental and physical health. But this manifesting aspect was a stretch for me. Just because I want something and I paste a picture on a vision board and click my heels three times and say it out loud, doesn’t mean it’s going to happen.  And things happen that I haven’t manifested at all, like falling off a horse.  I rest my case.

Nonetheless, I tried to keep an open mind and went with the program.  I formed my idea of what I wanted.  I put pen to paper and wrote it down, then said it out loud.  I meditated and focused my thoughts.  And interestingly, over the course of the program, I felt my energy shift.  Ideas started to pop up about how I could do some things to reach my goal and my entire aspect became more open to the possibility of success rather than resigning myself to impossibility.  

One day the assignment was to ask the universe for a sign that I’m on the right track. I mean, the kid in me loves this stuff but the adult skeptic in me is well, skeptical.  But I said I’d do it, so I did.  First to think of a sign.  I immediately thought of a hawk but dismissed that out of hand.  Around my house and around the ranch, we are up in the hills and hawks are a dime a dozen. What I know is around, but don’t see very often, particularly at the ranch where horses and vehicles keep them hidden during the day, are coyotes.  So, I said, Universe, because that’s what I call the universe, if I’m on the right track, I’d like to see a coyote today.  

On my way to the ranch, I made myself pay attention to the road instead of the hills I was passing, though I admit to peeking in the hopes some random coyote that might just be strolling by. Eventually I got to the ranch and shrugged off the idea of seeing one and settled myself into a chair on the edge of the arena so I could watch my trainer and others ride.  

After a while I was joined by some other student spectators. Suddenly, a woman sitting near me says, “Is that a coyote?”

I jumped to my feet looking in the direction she is pointing, and where my trainer and other riders had started looking, but for the life of me I can’t see the coyote.  They can all see it.  But from where I am, there is a fence blocking my view and I can’t see it. Typical!

Obviously, my professional analytical brain kicked into gear as I weighed the validity of a sighting, when I didn’t actually see it. Does it count?  Are there rules governing this?  I need a manual so I can check the chapter and subparagraph regulating what constitutes a valid sign from the Universe.

I made a ruling for myself and decided it doesn’t count.  If I didn’t see it, then it’s not a sign for me.

A little while later, still ruminating on my close call, I casually looked to my left and there, crossing the track between arenas, is a coyote. Not only is it there but it’s standing there looking at me as if to say, “Can you see me now, chucklehead?”

As if to really drive the point home, on my way out of the ranch I saw four more coyotes gathered on the side of the access road.  I’ve never seen a group of them like that. Like gosh universe, could you be more obvious?

Of course, the skeptic in me had to pipe up one last time. Was it really a sign or just a coincidence?  Was it luck or was it just happenstance? After all, it’s not like coyotes are rare in this part of the world. 

I weighed both sides and made another ruling for myself. I decided it doesn’t matter.  What matters is how it made me feel. And what I felt was validated, encouraged, hopeful, and even joyful. 

Maybe anything could be a sign if you need it to be.  Even falling off my horse could have been a sign. Of what, I don’t know.  Seems kind of rude for the Universe to knock me off that way.  But one good thing about living awhile is that I can now absolutely, unequivocally say that with every challenge, there is a lesson. Something good can come out of it. So many times, I’m able to look back and see that what seemed so hard or unfair in the moment turned out to be one of the best things that ever happened to me.  

Dear Universe, I will do my best to stay open and look for the lessons and the opportunities. I’ll try to keep an open mind and an open heart for however many coyotes you might want to send me. What is lucky or not lucky, is really all in how I respond to whatever comes my way.

That said, I’d appreciate you not flicking me off my horse again, if you don’t mind.

I haven’t yet found my four-leafed clover that will guarantee good fortune. Even if I did find one, Trudy would likely just eat it, making her own luck as always.