Showing posts with label life philosophy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label life philosophy. Show all posts

11 October 2026

The Law of Attraction Is a Fairy Tale: Luck, Murphy’s Law, and the Darts We Keep Throwing

Success Doesn’t Depend on Us Alone

There’s an entire industry promising to change our lives by changing the way we think. All we have to do is stay positive, visualize our goals, believe deeply in our dreams, and sooner or later the universe will reward us. If success never comes, the problem must be us: we didn’t believe hard enough, we didn’t develop the right mindset, we attracted negative energy. It’s a convenient explanation, especially for people selling happiness courses and self-help books about getting rich.

Too bad reality is far less accommodating. We can be optimistic, determined, well-prepared, and even talented without getting what we want. We can do everything reasonably well and still end up on the wrong side of luck. Because beyond our abilities and decisions, there are other people, circumstances, and chance. And they don’t always work in our favor.

Success isn’t simply a matter of individual merit, just as failure isn’t necessarily the result of some personal shortcoming. Sometimes, behind the story of someone who made it, there’s also a healthy dose of dumb luck. Acknowledging that doesn’t diminish the value of hard work. It simply means we should stop telling ourselves fairy tales.


The Elevator, the Publishing Executive, and the Luck That Changes Everything

Imagine a writer who, through sheer coincidence, gets trapped in an elevator with a powerful executive from a major publishing house. An ordinary, even absurd situation that could turn into the opportunity of a lifetime: a few words exchanged to pass the time, an unexpected conversation, a connection that would have been almost impossible to make under normal circumstances.

It’s an image that calls to mind a famous scene from the Italian film Thus Spoke Bellavista (Così parlò Bellavista), in which a broken elevator forces Professor Bellavista and an executive named Cazzaniga to confront each other, setting off an unexpected chain of events. The cinematic scene shouldn’t be confused with the story of an actual encounter involving a publishing executive, but it captures perfectly how a chance situation can transform relationships between people.

How many people have needed to meet the right person to change the course of their lives, yet never had the opportunity?

Luck rarely arrives in the form of a winning lottery ticket. More often, it shows up as information received at just the right moment, an unexpected phone call, a chance acquaintance, or a door that opens almost by accident.

It happened to me, too. One morning, I went out for coffee with a friend and learned during our conversation that a job selection process was underway. An entirely ordinary circumstance that might never have occurred. If I had stayed home, if I hadn’t met that friend that day, or if we had talked about something else, I might never have received that information.

Of course, learning about a job opening isn’t the same as getting the job. You still have to recognize the opportunity, pursue it, and hopefully make the most of it. But without that information, I might never even have taken the first step.

That’s the point: merit can help us seize an opportunity, but it can’t always make the opportunity appear in the first place. We can prepare for years without meeting the right person, while someone else might simply find themselves in the right elevator.

Recognizing this should make us less arrogant when we succeed and less judgmental when others don’t.



Bad Luck Isn’t a Life Lesson

A business opens just before a lockdown and is devastated by a crisis that no business plan could have fully anticipated. A candidate misses out on a competitive exam by a fraction of a point after years of studying. Someone is involved in an accident because a truck blows a tire. A man or woman longs for a lasting relationship, tries to meet someone to share life with, and ends up single.

What should they have done? Thought more positively? Visualized their future more clearly? Believed more intensely in their dreams?

Sometimes bad luck carries no hidden lesson. It’s simply bad luck. Insisting that every misfortune must have a deeper meaning can become a cruel way of blaming victims for circumstances they never caused.

Not every failure can be avoided. Not every dream comes true. Not everyone finds the love, job, or opportunity they want. And not every closed door proves we took the wrong path.

Some people work hard without getting results. Others receive decisive help. Still others face obstacles far greater than those encountered by their peers. Reducing these differences to individual willpower means ignoring an essential part of reality.

Success requires ability, effort, and perseverance, but it can also depend on favorable circumstances, relationships, family background, historical timing, and chance encounters. Sometimes these factors combine. Other times, a single one can radically change the outcome.

The problem isn’t admitting that luck exists. The problem is turning our own good fortune into proof of our moral superiority.


Murphy’s Law Is Always Lurking

If the Law of Attraction encourages us to imagine that the world can respond to our wishes, Murphy’s Law reminds us, with a dose of irony, that things can go wrong precisely when we least expect them to.

It isn’t a scientific law claiming that everything must inevitably end badly. It’s a useful reminder of how fragile our plans can be. Unexpected events happen, there are countless variables we can’t control, and even the best strategies can fail.

That’s why I believe taking precautions is essential. We can’t prevent every disaster, but we can often reduce the likelihood of one occurring or limit the damage it causes.

Someone starting a business can build financial reserves and avoid relying on a single customer. Someone looking for work can prepare for a job interview or competitive selection process while continuing to explore other options. Someone seeking a relationship can create opportunities to meet people without putting their entire life on hold while waiting for a soulmate. Anyone facing an important decision can consider the worst-case scenarios instead of imagining only the best possible outcome.

There are no absolute guarantees. A carefully managed business can still fail, a well-prepared candidate can still be rejected, and an unexpected event can devastate even someone who has done everything reasonably possible to prevent it. Prevention isn’t omnipotence. It’s common sense.

Preparing for the possibility that something might go wrong doesn’t make us pessimists. It means we take our lives seriously.


You Can Improve Your Odds, but You Can’t Command Luck

There’s an opposite danger, however: moving from faith in positive thinking to the belief that everything is random and therefore making an effort is pointless.

That would be another mistake.

We can’t schedule good luck, but we can create conditions that make it more likely to find us. If we never leave the house, we reduce our chances of meeting people. If we don’t cultivate relationships, we’re less likely to hear about an opportunity through someone we know. If we stop learning, we may not be ready when an opportunity presents itself. If we never try, we also deprive ourselves of the chances that might have worked out.

The universe doesn’t reward us simply because we think the right way. Our actions change the range of possibilities available to us, at least to some extent.

That distinction matters. We can’t control the outcome, but we can influence the odds. We can take action without pretending to be omnipotent, prepare without expecting to eliminate every risk, and persevere without turning persistence into an obsession.

We can also recognize when it’s time to change strategies. Perseverance doesn’t mean repeating the same action forever. It means continuing to look for workable paths, learning from mistakes, and adapting to circumstances.


Marcus Aurelius’s Darts and the Right to Keep Trying

I like to imagine our attempts as darts thrown toward targets we can’t always see. We don’t know where they’ll land, whether they’ll hit the bull’s-eye or miss completely. But if we stop throwing them because we’re afraid of failure, we also eliminate the possibilities that might have surprised us.

This image fits with the Stoic distinction between what depends on us and what doesn’t. I wouldn’t present it as a literal quotation from Marcus Aurelius, but as a metaphor for the relationship between action and uncertainty.

We can exercise some control over our decisions, preparation, discipline, and responses. We can’t control other people’s decisions, historical circumstances, or every random event that interferes with our plans.

Self-doubt becomes dangerous when it leads us to stop acting. If we’re convinced that nothing we do matters, we may give up looking for work, meeting people, proposing ideas, writing, or building something of our own. Our opportunities shrink, and we end up interpreting that scarcity as proof that we were right not to try.

In doing so, we risk sabotaging the very luck we hoped to encounter.

This doesn’t mean every dart will eventually hit a target. Life owes us no reward for perseverance. Some people try for years without achieving the results they want. But continuing to try keeps possibilities open that giving up would close permanently.

And there’s another reason to keep going: the satisfaction of knowing we made an effort, even when the outcome wasn’t what we hoped for.


My Blog and the Satisfaction of Showing Up

I publish regularly on my blog. I can’t know how many people will read an article, which idea will attract attention, which piece will be shared, or whether a post might eventually connect me with someone who opens up a new path.

Every article is a dart thrown into the world. It might go unnoticed, or it might reach someone I never imagined would read it. I can’t plan that outcome, but I can make the possibility of it happening real.

Yet the value of this activity goes beyond the results. Writing allows me to develop ideas, explore issues, test my convictions, and give shape to my thoughts. It gives me a reason to keep learning and to avoid becoming a mere spectator of the world around me.

There’s a kind of satisfaction that doesn’t depend on the number of readers or the success of any individual article. It comes from doing something I believe in, day after day.

I don’t need to be certain that every post will bring me good luck. It’s enough to know that publishing keeps a possibility alive while giving value to the present.

We don’t have to convince ourselves that we’ll win in order to find a reason to participate. We can find a reason to participate even when we have no guarantee of winning.


Success Also Depends on How We Respond

The way we deal with bad luck can make a difference, but here, too, we should avoid turning a reasonable observation into another form of moral judgment.

People don’t all respond in the same way. Personal resources, support from others, and the severity of what happened can dramatically affect what someone is able to do. Some people bounce back quickly; others need time. Some find a new path, while others can’t recover what they’ve lost.

We shouldn’t expect every tragedy to make us stronger, nor should we blame people who are suffering for not being resilient enough. Sometimes the most important achievement is simply getting through a difficult period.

But when we have the opportunity, we can try not to let a setback determine the rest of our lives. We can ask for help, change direction, protect what remains, and try again.

The difference isn’t that some people are immune to bad luck. It’s that they try to preserve some room to maneuver within circumstances they never chose.


We Don’t Control Our Destiny, but We Can Do Our Part

Perhaps wisdom lies in holding three truths together.

First, not everything depends on us, and merit alone cannot explain every success or every failure.

Second, we can’t eliminate uncertainty, but we can take precautions, build alternatives, and reduce certain risks.

Third, we don’t need to believe the world will reward our efforts in order to keep doing what we consider meaningful.

The Law of Attraction promises a degree of control we simply don’t possess. Fatalism, by contrast, encourages us to give up the control we actually do have. Between these two illusions lies a more realistic approach: act, prepare, try, adjust, and accept that part of the outcome will remain beyond our control.

We don’t own our destiny, but neither are we obliged to surrender all our possibilities to it in advance.

Let’s keep throwing our darts. Not because the universe owes us a reward, but because trying has value even when we don’t win. And let’s take every reasonable precaution, because we can improve our odds of getting lucky and sometimes limit the damage caused by bad luck.

The real question isn’t whether positive thinking can guarantee us a happy life. It’s whether we’re willing to do our part without demanding guarantees, recognize good fortune when it smiles on us, and refuse to feel ashamed when, despite everything, it turns its back on us.

13 August 2026

I’ve Read Thousands of Books. Today I Saved Just One: Maybe My Father Was Right

Today I filled a suitcase and a duffel bag with books.

I had to clear them out of my daughter’s bookcase because the space needs to be freed up. As I picked them up one by one, I found myself looking at them, recognizing some, remembering when I bought them. Others surprised me because I had completely forgotten I even owned them.

And the books I moved today are only a fraction of what I’ve accumulated over the years. There are still boxes and boxes of them at my mother’s house. I don’t even know exactly how many. I only know there are a lot.

At some point, I stopped and thought about something.

How do so many people go through their entire lives having known, for the most part, only the books they had to read at school?

I’m not saying that as a criticism. I’m genuinely curious. For me, books have always been almost a natural part of life. I can hardly imagine my life without all those years of reading.

And yet, right after that thought came another one, much harder to sit with:

What have all these books really given me?

I’ve spent thousands of euros on books. I don’t even know how many hours I’ve spent reading them. Psychology, philosophy, history, economics, politics, human behavior, success, relationships, spirituality. I’ve looked for answers almost everywhere.

And then I look around at other people’s lives.

I see people who have probably read very little and yet have things I don’t have. Large houses, swimming pools, expensive cars, businesses, money. Not necessarily because they’re smarter or more capable. Their lives simply took a different direction.

And that leads to a question that isn’t easy to admit:

Maybe reading a lot doesn’t necessarily get you very far.

My father used to tell me that.

He said that by reading so many books, I was only making myself more mentally confused.

Back then, I didn’t like hearing it. I thought he didn’t understand what reading meant to me, that he saw only the time I spent with my nose in a book and not everything those books left inside me.

Today, as I pack books into a suitcase without even knowing where I’m going to put them next, his words come back to me differently.

Because maybe my father had noticed something I couldn’t see.

Every book adds something.

A theory. An explanation. A different way of looking at a situation. Then you read another and find someone arguing the exact opposite. Then another, and you discover that perhaps both are right, but only under certain circumstances.

At first, it feels like wealth.

After a while, it can become noise.

And the more you read, the harder it can become to tell the difference between what you actually think and everything you’ve absorbed from other people.

You can read a book about discipline and feel ready to change your life. Then you read one about motivation. Then habits. Then psychology. Then fear.

And after fifty books, you may be able to explain perfectly why you aren’t doing what you know you should be doing.

Yet you still don’t do it.

That is what interests me most today: reading can become a very sophisticated form of inaction.

While you’re reading, you feel as if you’re moving forward.

You’re learning.

You’re thinking.

You’re growing.

And sometimes you really are.

But sometimes you’re simply postponing the moment when you’ll have to put what you’ve learned to the test.

And that’s when I picked up one particular book today, one I decided to entrust to my daughter.

I told her, “Don’t sell this one.”

She can sell the others, give them away, get rid of them.

But not this one.

It’s The Luck Factor by Richard Wiseman, in the 2003 Italian edition published by Sonzogno. I’ve always liked the cover: green, with four four-leaf clovers.

Why this book?

Because after everything I’ve read, I’ve come to believe that there is something many theories about success tend to overlook:

we don’t all start from the same place, and we don’t have the same degree of control over the outcome.

We like to tell ourselves that life is a kind of equation.

Study hard, and you’ll succeed.

Work hard, and you’ll succeed.

Be intelligent, and you’ll succeed.

Try hard enough, and eventually you’ll make it.

But life isn’t that simple.

There’s the family you’re born into. The place where you grow up. The historical moment. The people you meet. The opportunities that come your way. The ones you miss. Chance encounters. Coincidences.

And then there’s what we call luck.

That doesn’t mean everything is luck. That would be just as wrong.

It means that luck exists, and it plays a much bigger role in our lives than we like to admit.

That’s what makes Wiseman’s book so interesting to me. It doesn’t simply say that some people are lucky and others aren’t. It looks at what people who consider themselves lucky actually do, and whether certain behaviors make them more likely to encounter opportunities.

In the end, it feels very practical to me.

I can’t decide when luck will arrive.

But I can decide whether I leave the house.

I can decide how many people I meet.

I can decide whether to try something new.

I can decide whether, when an unexpected possibility appears, I immediately close the door or at least take a look at where it might lead.

Maybe we can’t control luck.

But we can put ourselves in places where luck has a chance to find us.

And that idea feels much more useful to me today than most theories about success.

Because it also forces us to be a little more honest with ourselves.

Not everything we have achieved is necessarily entirely due to our own merit.

And not everything we have failed to achieve is necessarily entirely our fault.

That’s a difficult thing to accept, especially in a society that keeps telling us that we can become anything we want if we want it badly enough.

I don’t think that’s true.

We can do a great deal.

We can prepare, study, work, improve, keep trying.

But we can’t control everything.

And perhaps that is one of the things it took me far too long to understand.

For years, I tried to understand life.

Why some people make it and others don’t.

Why some people find love and others remain alone.

Why some people become wealthy while others work their entire lives without ever building much wealth.

Why some people seem to stumble into opportunity after opportunity while others always seem to arrive at the wrong place at the wrong time.

I looked for answers in books.

Maybe my father understood that not every question has an answer in a book.

And maybe some answers simply don’t exist.

Or rather, they don’t exist in the form we would like them to.

Today, as I packed those books away, I didn’t think they had been useless.

That would be unfair.

Those books have been part of my life. They kept me company. They taught me things. They changed the way I thought. Some helped me through difficult moments. Others I have completely forgotten.

But today I realized something:

I don’t want to confuse what I know with what I have actually done.

They are two very different things.

I can know a great deal and still have done very little.

Someone else can know relatively little and build a great deal.

And perhaps life doesn’t keep score based on how many books we’ve read.

This realization doesn’t make me regret the books.

It simply makes me want to stop accumulating them.

Not necessarily stop reading, but stop believing that the next answer is always inside the next book.

Maybe now I need to step outside the pages for a while.

To try.

To fail.

To act.

To see what happens.

That’s why I told my daughter to keep The Luck Factor.

Not because I think that book contains the definitive explanation of life. No book does.

I want her to keep those four white four-leaf clovers as a small reminder.




You can prepare as much as you want. You can study. You can work hard. You can be intelligent, determined, capable.

And something can still happen that you never saw coming.

You can meet someone by chance.

An opportunity can appear.

A door can open.

You can simply find yourself in the right place at the right time.

Or you can find yourself in the wrong place.

And not all of that will necessarily be your fault or your achievement.

The important thing is not to turn that awareness into an excuse for doing nothing.

Quite the opposite.

If I can’t control luck, at least I want to be there when it comes along.

And as I closed that suitcase full of books, I realized that maybe this is where I’ve finally arrived.

I’ve spent a huge part of my life looking for ways to understand the world through books.

Today I find myself moving those books from one house to another and wondering what to do with them.

There are still so many at my mother’s house.

Maybe one day I’ll sell them. Maybe I’ll give them away. Maybe I’ll keep a few.

But I no longer think the fundamental question is, “How much did all that reading do for me?”

Maybe the real question is:

“Now that I’ve read all this, what am I willing to do with it?”

Because at some point, you have to close the book.

And start living what’s written outside it.

My father used to say that reading so much only made me more mentally confused.

Today, as I carried away a suitcase and a duffel bag full of books, for the first time I thought that maybe he was right.

Not because reading was useless.

But because perhaps I didn’t need to understand more. I needed to do more.


15 July 2026

Sleep and Have Luck

My father often used to say a phrase that, when I was young, sounded almost like a provocation: “Sleep and have luck.”

As the years passed, however, my experiences, the books I have read, and above all the many human stories I have encountered led me to recognize that behind that simple saying there was a profound truth.


Hard work, education, talent, and perseverance are certainly important elements, but they do not always fully explain the destiny of individuals. Life contains a silent and unpredictable factor, one that is often ignored in the stories of success: luck.

We only need to observe many unexpected careers, many social rises that began in poor neighborhoods, and many transformations of ordinary people into successful entrepreneurs, influential figures, or public personalities. Behind some of these stories there are certainly ability and sacrifice, but there is often something else as well: a chance encounter with the right person at the right moment; an opportunity that appears unexpectedly; someone else’s mistake that opens a door; a favorable circumstance that completely changes the course of a life.

Yet society often tends to describe success as if it were always the exclusive result of individual merit. It is a comforting narrative because it suggests that those who reach the top did so only because they worked harder than everyone else. Reality, however, is usually far more complex. Two people with similar abilities can experience completely different destinies simply because fortune placed them in different circumstances.

Even the biblical tradition does not seem to deny this mysterious dimension of human existence. In Psalm 127, we read:

"Unless the Lord builds the house,
the builders labor in vain.
Unless the Lord watches over the city,
the guards stand watch in vain.
In vain you rise early
and stay up late,
toiling for food to eat—
for He grants sleep to those He loves."

The meaning of the Psalm is not an invitation to laziness. It does not say that human beings should abandon effort or responsibility. Rather, it expresses something deeper: human effort alone cannot explain everything. There is a dimension beyond our control, called by faith grace, by philosophy chance, and by everyday language simply luck.

Perhaps my father, with a simple phrase, had understood a truth that economists, sociologists, and psychologists have later examined: human beings create their own opportunities, but they do not completely control the circumstances in which those opportunities become reality.

Therefore, “sleep and have luck” is not a celebration of passivity. It is a lesson in humility. It reminds those who reach great heights not to attribute everything to themselves, and it reminds those who remain behind that failure is not always the result of personal inadequacy.

Because in life we certainly need our hands to build, but sometimes we also need something that does not depend on our hands.

Perhaps this is why the wisdom of an old popular saying still survives: we must work, prepare ourselves, and strive — but we must also recognize that every human journey contains an unpredictable element.

The builders need their tools.
But sometimes, they also need a favorable wind.

The Luck of Getting Rich: Between Merit, Chance, and Illusion

The Myth of Those Who Made It An entire industry thrives on telling people how to get rich. Its leading voices promise to reveal the secrets...