Superstitions, rituals and magic

I was having coffee with a friend not too long ago. I asked him whom he was seeing and he simply gave me that Krispy Kreme honey glazed look that could only come from a man who possessed a sweet secret. "What?" I asked as I blew off the steam from my overpriced coffee. "No one, don’t want to jinx it," he smugly replied, completely unaware that he just uttered a sentence that did not make sense. What a Delilah, I thought. I poured Equal on my coffee and changed the topic.

A few days later I found myself getting ready to meet a potential newbie. I found myself picking out a pink shirt that I have owned for years (lucky), spritzing on my el cheapo perfume (lucky) and putting on my out-of-fashion dangling earrings (lucky). I caught myself in a trap. Here I was in my unfashionable ensemble, wearing the style equivalent of a rabbit’s foot.

This was my version of not jinxing it. I have made my formula for feng shui dating. Also it was a quietus to my sagacity.

There are two schools of dating. The rules dater who boils courtship down to a methodical science. Where one action follows another to create a completely reasonable sequence of events, that more or less will guarantee the doer positive results. Like following a step by step instruction manual.

Of course, when this ceases to be, the doer simply dismisses the delinquent recipient as "psycho."

Then there is the mystical dater. One who believes that the important end of fate is determined by an abstruse force from another world. It’s all about hidden messages from beyond and having certain vibes. What a haruspex was for animals, I was the retail equivalent. The truth is felt and not sought.

Thus, little signs from an unidentified source are greeted like sign of the coming of the Messiah. A pink shirt that I wore when I scored a job for the first time, then met a guy who did call was the fashion equivalent of the dancing sun in Lipa for me. I took it as a sign and made sure it did not fade in the wash. Some people use underwear, some baseball caps, some a watch. My lucky charms were the pink shirt, the cologne and outdated fancy earrings. If I wore them together I was sure that the gods were smiling down on me.

It was anti-climactic. I got drunk and said stupid things to newbie. My only good fortune was that I did not do anything stupid. I woke up still woozy from my social lubricants in my pink shirt that now smelled like cigarette smoke, one earring in my ear and the scent of my cheap cologne long gone.

Forget my wit and responsiveness, I really thought my lucky trio would do it. There are times when I definitely feel that youth is wasted on the young. At least when it comes to me.

In Wei Hui’s controversial novel Shanghai Baby, the heroine Coco ponders on her grandmother’s thoughts on fate, "A person’s fate is like a kite string. One end is here on earth and the other is in the heavens. There is nowhere to hide from fate." Indeed, whether it’s a fashion prayer or a ritual (I once had a friend who got a manicure before a date because she felt it was lucky), or secretly having a love magic potion (which if you know what is good for you should be kept a secret) give us rational beings a self-esteem boost knowing that somehow in the world of equations and dogmas, there are things incomprehensible to thought but yet, still serve as a force in pulling us closer to our fate. And yes, most people still believe that their fate is the life that they have always dreamt of. Fate and dreams are not always synonymous.

There are people who believe that you create your own destiny. Then there are those who surrender to the gusts of life’s winds hoping it would take them there. They are usually drug addicts or nymphomaniacs. Or end up getting swindled. It’s easy to believe that life will take care of you when you’re young and good. Somehow you feel that because of your virtuous heart, life will take care of you.

I once had a card reading with a man my friend thumbed up as reliable, like a good private banker or a superb dermatologist. He read my cards and amazingly well, they all made sense. He guessed that I was a troubled girl ("you had a past"), that I had no money of my own ("you have deep attachments to your guardians"), that I had issues with men ("you have a fascination for men") and that I was about to be a trillionaire ("you will grow and thrive"). Of course, all the interpretations were done by me custom-tailored to my lifestyle. I wanted to believe him really badly. He told me that I was going to find a man who will take care of me ( daddy?), that I have three men secretly fighting over me (where?), and that I will be living away for a long, long time (Toto we’re still in Kansas).

Don’t get me wrong. I love these card readings. I have met many amazing people who have read my fortune with amazing accuracy. Some of the things told to me took years later to materialize. Whether it really is magic or coincidence is still a mystery. However, at that desperate moment with my vague fortuneteller I saw my destiny in his hands. I was so ready to lay out in the sun and wait for Mr. Right and my trillion dollars to come. After all, it was in the cards.

Getting a grip is the best thing a person can do for himself. All my epiphanies came during the aftermaths. My heart was broken, I continued to walk on the shards, until I decided to slap myself and accept it. A newfound self-esteem and thirst for life was well worth the loss. I once was held hostage by panic attacks thinking that there was nothing I could do about it. Later on as my nerves started to thread like yard, I realized that there was no one else who could help me better than myself. It takes those rough patches to lead you to your smooth ever afters. There is nothing like a sting of reality to sober you up. Surrendering to fate paralyzes you and numbs you from all the experiences that will in the end edify you. In the midst of helplessness it’s easy to fall into traps. Little do you realize that these are traps that you set up for yourself.

What completes you is not finding your destiny. It is how you find your destiny. Although there is nothing wrong with wearing your lucky underwear once in a while, it’s always important to remember that the world is still your oyster.