Luck loves hip, happening peeps, I believe. And we all begin by thinking that we're hip, happening peeps. At some point, we can count on this, misfortune is sure to arrive. Here's the catch: bad luck seems to feed on spiritual 'joints' that have already been stressed...just as toxins in our body tend to attach to pre-traumatized joints. My right shoulder, dislocated twenty years ago, flares up every now and then when I'm not eating right. Ditto a knee cap I broke. So far, so bad. Now what about those spiritual 'joints'? Lose your job, you start to fear you'll never find another one--and this tends to cripple the job-getting mojo, manifesting what we fear. Or: go a while without sex and you begin to fear never again getting lucky in bed...the very fear tending to worsen your luck.
And so on and so on till we are not cool. Till we're no longer hip, happening peeps who can climb mountains and figure stuff out. Toward the end of my time in the desert, I could barely decide anything for myself or work out the simplest things.
I began with a mantra from Robert Greene's work: Act like a king to become one. And act like a hip dude to catch Good Luck's eye. Learn, somehow, to figure out the ins and outs of this computer without asking everyone. Make bold decisions. Take chances and fail, but learn from every failure. Make every move count and live fully each day with the sense of oneself as a happening peep that Good Luck would be dumb not to goose.
Step by step, move by move, the stressed joints get their grooves back and Bad Luck's toxins disappear.
This is my report.
The Electrifying New Internet Sensation