luck is a four-lobed clover leaf.

I think I may have found what I just needed.

No, it’s not a four-lobed clover leaf (as evidenced by this title) or any other kind of leaf for that matter, but I simply chose to designate today’s entry as such because I believe it’s about time I address the long baffling issue regarding that most elusive thing we call luck.

The idea of four-leaved clovers as indicators of good fortune can be traced back to the European Middle Ages, when this botanical peculiarity, by way of an extra leaf, raised many an observant eyebrow. Not long after, people resorted to stuffing a few of these extraordinary biological creations in their pockets, just in case they really do work.

As time passes, so we gradually pitch in yellow butterflies, falling stars, and multi-seven digits, and the “lucky” cast is almost complete. You name it, the world has it.

I know this may all sound like a fanciful old wives’ tale, and indeed it is for there’s no sufficient scientific proof to sensibly support the claim of these objects’ being capable of turning poor old unlucky you into a brand new lucky someone. Then again, they say it’s all in the state of mind: I can only wonder in amazement how serendipitously finding such items can throw the supposedly lucky person into a fabulous floundering fit, even make him/her readily offer heaps upon heaps of praises to God.

Inasmuch as I would have liked to consider myself a rational person, I have to admit being fairly exposed to the wealth of zany beliefs and superstitions on the luck element surrounding me as I grew up. Like many children my age I too had my share of the wishing and the praying that one day or another these things would come my way, especially when the need arose for a lucky me (Nope, it’s not the noodles.) As I discerned more and shifted my mindset from fantasy to reality, it was only logical to gradually dismiss them as sheer inanity, except for one: RED SHIRTS. At present, I have quite a collection of these; and so to speak they have not failed to do the job during competitions and examinations. This summer, I have added something new for a change: a white shirt with the Chinese character for luck (“hok”) imprinted on it.

You might ask why wonder of wonders, I had to choose something so simple as a shirt, not even a red one, as a purportedly lucky symbol when all it can boast of is just that: the luck symbol displayed on its front. Opening our yearbook one time, it intrigued me to discover that one classmate’s slogan is “It is not enough for one to have the luck of talent; one must also have a talent for luck.” –Hair-raising declarations that at length caused me to examine myself for being possibly in want of a talent for luck. Perhaps if I really am, would the huge luck character on my shirt somehow rush to the rescue and get to duly drive away any negative vibes?

Quite a number of serious-minded people I know believe there is no such thing as luck, though. They brush it aside as a mere figment of the imagination, a byproduct of dawdling and daydreaming in the sun too hard and too often. We see how this is clearly concretized in the Filipinos’ time-honored “bahala na” of a fatalism as a rallying banner to eke one’s days out, and on that indolent Chinese farmer in the fable sleeping under a tree waiting for some lame rabbit to bump its head for an instant meal. Thing is, what if “bahala na” somehow lost its efficacy? What if that soon-to-be-dead-meat rabbit you’ve been waiting for all along never came?

The sages cite ample industry and right timing to compensate for, even attempt to explain, the workings of a convincing godsend. With proper faith, however, it would actually be a godsend; and more or less you have in your hands the straightforward formula for success. I know it because this is what my parents and some saner person around me would implant in my head whenever I peeved them with another exasperating episode on why I consider myself plain ill-fated. Almost in tart retaliation, their responses in the form of phrases like “You’re not giving it your all” or “You should strengthen your faith” would constantly zap me back to solid ground with the unfailing effect of a pail of ice-cold water.

Some days I still get the urge to hurl my usual endless tirade of lucklessness at no one in particular whenever I just had gone through a bad day. Heck, in moments like these the sight of the “I’m Feeling Lucky” button on the Google home page is even enough to make me cringe in derision. But I guess the sages were right. There’s no sense in catching yellow butterflies or looking for four-lobed clovers when they’re just not meant to be found, and similarly there’s no telling when joining the queue at the lotto or sitting it out in bingo games would earn you big bucks either. Still, we can always opt to choose alternatives more worthy of our time and energy. After all, it's a case of a half-empty glass or a half-full one - but I'm not wasting any more time on such trifling debates. If I can't get myself a bottle of Felix Felicis, I can always count on a little faith and a little effort to do the trick.

Wish me luck!