52 Weeks 500 Words
This is how it began: Justine (not her real name) decided to write 500 words (or as near as), anything goes, per week for 52 weeks. She would then submit it for anonymous posting, via me, her friend. Perhaps a pattern will emerge from her words, but at this stage it’s more an experiment I have agreed to share in. I’ll attempt to draw conclusions at the end of this. Stay tuned if this resonates with you.
"Last night I had the clearest dream of winning the Lotto. Not a dream about receiving a phone call out of the blue – ‘You've won! – sort of thing, but the winning numbers.
During the dream I didn't realise they were meant as Lotto numbers, but this morning I awoke with these digits floating around in my head. I wrote them down.
In fact I just typed them in here, from memory, they are that seared into my mind, although I won’t be sharing them in the post. This is not because I want to hold onto them, but because I do not trust to this type of luck and neither should you.
What do I do with this, I ask myself? Take a chance and enter them for the next draw? Do nothing, and sit back and possibly see these numbers flash up on TV and then scold myself to hell and gone for not using them?
Do you see the conundrum? A right emotional knot. And what is it based on? The possibility of wealth, only a possibility. It is wishful thinking, the easy way out. Sure, it would be great to win a million, even in our weak currency, but to rely on it as a means to relief from ever-present anxiety about money? I think not. That kind of reliance is foolish.
Also, there is the disappointment factor. So I have these numbers, I play them, I win nothing, because, guess what, it was only a dream. In a way even my logic cannot fathom, this will be highly disappointing. If I choose to follow a prompt, I want it to work out as seen, not so? It’s not so much not winning money that will disappoint me – it’s not dreaming true that will.
The last time I took a random chance and entered numbers was over ten years ago, and never have I missed it. I am not this kind of gambler, and I don’t intend to start being one now. So I don’t win, but next draw, I enter the numbers again, hoping my timing was off? And again and again? I don’t think so; it’s soul-destroying.
I prefer to gamble on myself. What I have to offer is wealth. What others share with me is wealth. Numbers that connect my phone to my brother’s is wealth. My mind is my wealth, as is my heart and soul.
Random chance isn't luck. We make our own fortunes.
To end this. What will I do with these numbers? Nothing. I won’t even check the winning draw."