luck

"I'll make it back before it starts to rain," I convince myself, although I leave my ipod at home. With just enough optimism, I step outside, surrendering to the reality of rain. And when it pours, I carry the soaking weight of drenched clothes. What is heavier, though, is the realization that I had secretly hoped the storm would wait until I was back home. Even though I had planned for rain, unwilling to possibly expose my ipod to the elements, there was a piece of me that wanted, for just a moment, to feel lucky.

I didn't allow myself to wish that he would come back but I bundled up his love letters anyway and stashed them in a black box under my bed. He wasn't coming back, but when he did, I would have those letters as a testament to my hope.

He didn't come back. Today, I placed the box gently in the trash- I let go. Danielle LaPorte reminded me that sometimes we must destroy before we create. Tiffany Han urged me to make room in my life; I must make space - an empty shelf - to allow for something good to take root.

The next time clouds start to gather, I will again try to sneak in a run because it's not about luck.