Lucky Breaks

A couple of weeks ago I started posting my blogs on BlogHer, as well as here on Blogger. I thought it might be a good way to get more traffic. And everybody knows you need a lot of traffic to a blog to ever dream of making it a "success", meaning advertisers will pay you, making it possible to quit your day job, and maybe, just maybe, making it possible, if overly-optimistically unlikely, that such a blog could be discovered like a Hollywood starlet at a soda fountain, and magically become a book and a movie, launching you, its humble author, into a dream world of fame and fortune. It could happen. It has happened. I have a dream something like that.

The wilder the dream, the more potential it has for wild success. If you know in your innermost gut of guts that what you're dreaming is from your heart of hearts, you're on the right track. If your friends and family -- particular family -- think you're irresponsible and delusional, you're probably headed in the right direction. And if you'd do what you're doing, even if you didn't get paid for it, you're definitely doing the right thing.

Every so often we get Lucky Breaks in life. I used to think they were one shot deals, one time offers. But maybe not. Maybe if there's something we're really being asked to do, the doors will open again and again until we quit tripping over our own cute shoes and find our way through to where we're supposed to be.

Back when I was a new beadmaker, I had every intention of becoming a Famous Beadmaker, whatever that meant. I was at a small bead show in Seattle, in a middle school gym, with my 12 year old daughter along as my helper. I knew that the editor of Bead & Button magazine was there, and was all set to impress her with my dazzling beads. Suddenly, there she was, three booths away, then two... And then, Darling Daughter, being the charming age of 12, picked that precise moment to throw a little snit fit. I turned and gave her The Look, pleading please don't do this now. But she persisted, of course, being 12, and the Editor, repelled by our tension, walked right by without so much as a glance at my beads.

Needless to say, that was a particularly low point in this mother-daughter relationship. I let go of the idea of bead fame, certain that I'd taken my Lucky Break and broken it in two. But I kept making beads, for the love of making beads. And the beads got better, and time went by, and one day, out of the clear blue New Mexico sky, I got an email from that same Editor, asking me if I'd be interested in designing and making the commemorative bead for the Bead & Button show that year, and if it would also be OK to do an article about me in the magazine. 

WHAT? Impossible! Talk about a Lucky Break. You can't pay for exposure like that. I instantly forgave my daughter for her tantrum. She had actually done me a favor, by giving me more time to improve my skills, so I'd really be ready when I finally caught the Editor's eye. At this point, Yes was the only possible answer, and the only necessary action was to continue to do the work. Everything changed for me then.

This morning I set about opening my email, and my eyes popped straight to a subject line reading, "You're featured on BlogHer today..." WHAT? Impossible! I've only been on BlogHer for two weeks, and the rules clearly state that you can't even be found in their listings for 30 days. I clicked over to the BlogHer homepage, and impossible though it is, there it was, a link to my Wabi Sabi post from yesterday.

I'm still jumping around, doing little happy-dances, which makes it very hard to type. And in between the happy-dances, my mind goes something like - Well, what are you going to DO with this? This could be your Lucky Break. And my answer, is... I don't know! Maybe this is another Lucky Break. Or maybe it's an extension of the last one, which, looking back even further, was certainly not the first one in my life. Maybe each time something like this happens it's really another door, in a long series of doors, opening to lead us to the next place, the next thing, and the next door, and the next, because "where we're supposed to be" is constantly changing.

What if there's no limit to Lucky Breaks? Maybe they're happening every day, and all we need to do is quit staring at our own cute shoes long enough to notice what's being offered to us. I really think that if we pay attention, and do the work, with our hearts and guts and all our squishy parts, that we can't go wrong. If we keep dreaming, trusting, believing, paying attention, and doing the work, somehow, even through the tantrums and distractions, we'll find our way.