I win raffles. You know, the kind you buy at an event and forget all about until the MC tells you it’s time to see who won. I usually win those. At least that’s my story, and I’m sticking with it. I recently won a book give-away over at Terry Lynn Johnson’s blog, for which I want to say a big thank you to Terry! It also made me think about my streak. It’s not that I ALWAYS win (I’m still pining over that Fat Tire Ale Bike for which I was sure I had the winning number). But I often do. Why is that?
Perhaps it is all in the perception. Maybe because I think I usually win, I have actually programmed my brain to record only the winning moments. Losing doesn’t stick in my memory. (That is unless it’s a really cool old-school Schwinn one speed cruiser that I really, really, really wanted to win.)
I’m sure there are numerous accounts of my loses, when I quietly slipped the losing ticket under the edge of my drink and continued doing whatever I had been before the MC’s announcement. But I just don’t remember any.
Which is exactly my point. I prefer to believe in the wins and forget the losses. All tallied, each one of us knows, deep down, that there are more checks in the loss column than in the win column. But why count? Why not just remember the wins, the fleeting moments of glory, the book give-aways and the logoed t-shirts?
Today, on this dreary afternoon, when I pray that the temperature will drop enough to turn the rain to snow in the mountains, as I pine for the powder days ahead, I prefer to concentrate on my wins. It’s quite a streak I have going.