Inquisitive.me

I never really thought of myself as lucky. My life? It’s been fine—just the usual mix of ups and downs. A crisis here, a challenge there. Just classic adulting.

My mom used to call me a pessimist. And honestly? She wasn’t wrong. I tended to expect the worst more often than the best. My logic? Better to be pleasantly surprised than disappointed. Not the worst mindset to have. The Stoics did the same—it’s called premeditatio malorum, the practice of imagining worst-case scenarios to be ready for them.

I still stand by that approach—being prepared beats being caught off guard. But lately, I’ve started calling myself lucky. And it’s all thanks to The Luck Factor by Richard Wiseman. Somehow, despite my skepticism, I slipped into the “lucky” camp.

Looking back, I flunked every major exam the first time around. My life never really followed the script I imagined. Sure, I was content—I’ve always had a cheerful streak—but truly happy? Not quite. Not like I am now.

Then, three years ago, I faced a big decision: take a stable, well-paid lab job or gamble everything on getting accepted into my dream program. If I didn’t get in, I’d keep juggling low-paying side gigs a little longer.

Studying biology was okay, but it wasn’t my passion. Would this gamble pay off? Was it worth risking security? I’d been in a lab before—it wasn’t exactly thrilling. How long could I stick it out?

I took the leap, turned down the job, and trusted my gut. And guess what? My gut was right. I got lucky.

Or maybe not just lucky.

Because from that moment on, things started falling into place. Suddenly, I wasn’t just lucky once. Luck became a pattern.

What changed?

My expectations.

I was at a point where I had almost nothing to lose. I expected things would work out somehow. I expected this time would be different—that studying would bring me joy, that this was the real deal.

To be honest, I’d hoped that before. I thought moving to Tyrol to work in tourism would be my dream. Skiing in winter, hiking in summer—it sounded perfect. And it was fun, sure. But this time, I really believed it would stick.

I also expected that working with people facing mental health challenges would be eye-opening and rewarding. You’ve got to start somewhere, right? I stayed open-minded. If it wasn’t the right fit, I could always shift gears.

I carried the same mindset into starting my own practice. I expected to figure out how to juggle entrepreneurship and make it work. And if I failed? I’d at least know I tried.

I expected to be lucky—and that expectation changed everything.

So, how do you start expecting luck and actually invite it into your life? Here’s a simple mindset shift and practical approach that helped me—and might just do the same for you.

🧪 Let’s Experiment

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Luck doesn’t just find you—you have to actively seek it.

Expect to be lucky, and you’ll start noticing opportunities everywhere. When you focus on the positive, that’s what fills your view.

Think of it like skiing off-piste for the first time. I was a total mess—exhausted, weaving wildly, almost hugging every tree in sight. One colleague stayed behind me, making sure I got down safe and sound. I’ll never forget his advice, which rings true far beyond the slopes:

“Try to focus on the gaps between the trees, not the trees themselves.”

It’s a powerful metaphor for life: If you fixate on obstacles, you’ll run straight into them. But when you focus on the spaces—the possibilities—you find your way through.

🎯 Try This:

Next time you feel stuck or unlucky, pause and ask yourself: What are the ‘gaps’ I might be overlooking? What opportunities am I missing by focusing too much on the problems? Write down three small “gaps” or chances you can spot right now—then take one tiny step toward one of them.

🧠 Final Thought:

Expect luck. Look for the openings. Shift your attention from what’s blocking you to what’s possible—and watch how your story begins to change.

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Keep it simple, stay curious, and keep learning—you’ve got this.

Take care,

Carina 🦊