I am an extremely superstitious person. My mom had me believing my itchy hand meant money was coming my way and that an upside down broom swept unwanted guests away. I thought it was a very odd thing growing up so superstitious. Now, I miss it. I miss her odd superstitions for every situation imaginable. It is amazing how grief can show up and pop into the most innocuous thoughts and conversations. I miss her. I miss thinking about superstitions.
Well, that is until this morning. Like many other people, I grew up thinking it’s bad luck to walk under a ladder. There are many cited possible origins to that particular superstition. Could be it represented the gallows or could be that it represented blasphemy. Either way, ladders have held a longstanding superstition grip on us.
As I walked to work this morning, I noticed that I was dodging (bobbing and weaving) ladder upon ladder. My morning walk was filled with ladders. I couldn’t zone out and listen to my music. I had to stay alert and make sure I didn’t step underneath a ladder. I was dodging bad luck. I mean, I run a health center in New York in the middle of a pandemic. There’s a lot of bad luck I have to dodge. I most certainly don’t need to add ladders to my morning avoidance routine. I suppose the fact that there are so many ladders around showcases the continued construction in New York. Despite it all, skyscrapers keep getting built. Life goes on. Yes, it does.