More people are superstitious than are willing to admit the fact. From
bygone ages to modern times, both high and low, rich and poor, educated
and ignorant, have yielded to some curious vein of fancy that leads them
to expect “luck” or success more readily if certain whimsical conditions
are complied with. Who has not, at some time, felt the power of one or
another of the odd ideas that seem to have such a firm hold on the mind
of man? Laugh it off as we will, declare it nonsense as we know it to
be, still there is the tendency to put an unreasoning half-belief in it.
Do we not all know those who are nervous with fear if salt is spilled;
who would go without a meal rather than be one of thirteen at table; who
never begin any important work on a Friday; who are careful to take
their first sight of the new moon over their right shoulder instead of
the left; who rejoice in the finding of a four-leaved clover?
“Luck” is a plant that grows from the seed. And the seed sown is the
kind of thoughts we entertain; ideas about ourselves, about God, about
our work, and about the rest of the world.
Thoughts can be chosen. If we think ourselves weak and inferior, we
invite failure; because then the work that we do will not be our best,
and will be surpassed in value by that of others.
If we think instead, “I can do this work better than it has ever been
done before—and I will,” the seed will grow and bear fruit in results to
ourselves and others.