Peter J. D'Adamo, ND, MIFHI
Because I attended a Catholic grammar school which was private and did not receive any state or government funding, we were often dispatched on extenuated and cheerless forays out into the public in a quest for its nickels and dimes. This usually included the sale of various candies or 'chance books,” a cluster of five or ten tickets which entered the owner into a drawing of some sort, for a variety of possible prizes.
Never mind that this same public (due to the limitations of spatial geography and the ambulatory capacities of a ten-year old) was already paying through a myriad of other schemes to keep their kids in this very same school. Typically after suitable introductions had been made and accompanied by sufficient eye-rolling and entreaties heavenward, the wallet would be procured and another book of chances sold. Usually, I’d take the opportunity to remind them of what a wise investment they had made, only to be greeted by the sobriquet “Sonny,” and the dismissal of a future possibilities with an off-hand “I’ve never won anything, and I’m not very lucky.”
From that point to this, I’ve always marveled when people tell me that they aren’t very lucky, since of course it is not true. Just wondering about your unluckiness, marks you as being among the luckiest of all. As a matter of fact, you have won one of the greatest raffle prizes of all time; at odds so astronomical so as to be incalculable. You’ve won the raffle of life.
Just think. Your parents first needed to have come from genealogical lines that survived through all the plagues, wars and accidents of time. Second, they needed to be in physical proximity, so as to come into contact with each other. Third, they had to be attracted in such a manner as to stimulate (hopefully) the urge for procreation in each other. Fourth, they had to be in that particular mood at just the time when the team “up at bat” sperm and egg-wise was you. Fifth, the sperm that carried the genetic information from your father had to compete with millions of other sperm in a race that would make the New York City Marathon look like a trip to the store for a newspaper. Sixth, even upon winning, that sperm had to find an egg at just the exact time when it was ripe for fertilization. Finally, after fertilization, the embryo had to travel through the Fallopian tubes and implant in the uterus where it developed form the cluster of cells into something that would eventually grow to the point where it could take care of itself.
So who among us is unlucky?