Remember as kid how exhilarating it was to find a four leaf clover? I do.
On the rare occasion it happened, usually some time in the late days of spring, the kid who found one was instantly catapulted into grade school stardom for the day. No matter how nerdy, chubby or awkward they were, it was instant popularity every time.
Everyone wanted to be friends with the kid who found the clover. Maybe we thought some of their luck would rub off on us and those toys we wanted would magically appear when we got home. Or maybe we just wanted attention and saw the easiest way to get it was by gluing ourselves to the ass of the four-leaf-clover-kid. Whatever the reason, the hunt and discovery of it was something I’ll never forget.
I remember my third grade teacher telling me that four leaf clovers were considered “lucky” because they were rare. Even then I was learning that having something unique meant opening the door to possibility. In the case of the clover, that possibility was instant popularity.
Twenty years later I still love hunting for that rare or unique thing that’s going to set me apart. And it’s not just me. We’re all on our hands and knees furiously petting through the grass to find our clovers. Some of us find them on the backs of others and hitch a ride; some of us find our own, water them and watch them grow; and some of us keep our heads in the dirt searching and searching for the clover that will never be discovered, but has always been there.
Whether our uniqueness is expressed in our wardrobe, our jobs, our homes, our language, our shoes or our blogs, having and honing that rarity is as good as gold. A whole big pot of it.