We’re all excited in the story of the successful. The 1% that have achieved what they imagined. We deny ourselves thinking that we won’t be a part of that 1%, so we don’t listen to the other not so successful 99%.
So now we don’t know what not to do.
Who tells the story of the average person? The truth is we all think we’re special. So the average won’t admit that they failed. The successful won’t stoop low to get to know the averages. Yet, the path that awaits most of us is actually left unknown. All we know is what success feels like, all we know is what failure feels like, but what lies between it? The practical end of our journey? It stays a mystery.
We often hear about prodigies who are waiting for the world to wake up to their genius. We often hear about the next big thing. The next Sachin Tendulkar, the next Beyonce, the next Ronaldo, or the next PT Usha. We rarely get to see their emergence into bonafide rockstars. They lose out on opportunities. Even though they’ve done everything right. They’ve practiced well, they’ve listened to their mentors, they’ve disciplined them and they’ve made their craft their religion but they still don’t rise up to the occasion. Why?
Luck is a funny thing. To define luck is to imagine humans living on the sun. It drives the mankind crazy for its inability to quantify it. If humans could understand luck, they will stop trying to understand God. I think we don’t talk about luck often because we fear it will stop working in favour for us.
Guess I’ll not be so lucky after all.