Knowledge is one thing, to literally use it yourself is another thing entirely. Back to my favorite analogy, we all know exercise is good for you, this is common knowledge. How many of us actually do it? How many of us actually make use of this common knowledge?

Physical exercise is one thing. What is the mental equivalent of this activity? It would stand to reason that if the body can get stronger from conscious use, so the mind can do the same.

Realizing this fact is what has made me the Lucky guy I am. I have realized that in life, there is no rulebook as to who you’re supposed to be. As human beings, we constantly shaping ourselves by our ideas of who are are. As those ideas change, we change right along with them.

Through conscious manipulation of these ideas, I have come to understand how I shape my self in my vision  every day. We all do it as human beings, whether we’re aware of it or not. Being aware of it, I know now gives you the power to do something about it. Not knowing it exists, puts one in the very precarious position of being tossed to and fro by any and all external forces.

Hence, my reason for being L.U.C.K.Y. is the fact that I know now that I make myself in my own image.

Luck Is A Miracle
I’m a miracle happening,
Pure lightning striking.
At times I mike it,
Just so you like it.
I’m proof there’s magic,
Here poof you have it.
I’m lightning striking,
Twice at light speed
With thrice as much heat.
Makes me pure chi precisely
Just call me Lightning
Lucky Lightning
So calm it’s frightening.
He’s so enlightening
Racing thoughts at high speeds
To drizzle you light speech.
I’m quite deep.
At my peak,
You can actually watch me
Walk out of my body casually
Curiosity might peak.
So I show of my soul
Just by slowing my flow
From sunrays to rain fall then snow
Otherwise I might combust
And the outcome: dust
Thus, I conduct
My train of thoughts to stay on course
I write so you’ll ride with me a bit.
Lucky Logan is flying this ship;
Captain McCoy, I’m in command, ya dig.
Shaping my life in bits,
While jotting my manuscript.
My critics are quick to quip:
“Man you flipped!”
Absolutely, I’m now a grand master of it.
I was born equipped,
But my wings got clipped:
Yard bird, I’m reborn to flip
My thoughts till they’re all in sync.
It’s pure instinct that makes me distinct.
I am therefore I think.

-L.P. McCoy