"Luck" sometimes comes from "gambling"

Last weekend, my husband and I went to an open-air fashion show in Gmunden. The shops were open late for the occasion and so we strolled through the many small galleries and art shops that this small but beautiful town has to offer. I was struck by a ceramic sculpture by the Austrian artist Edeltrude Arleitner in the eye. She radiated beauty and self-confidence, her cheeky pose said "I know what I'm doing". The cube, which she balanced confidently on her fingertips, showed me that she had everything under control. I really thought that was the point of the cube. Then I looked at the description and the sculpture was called "The Player".

A small neuron short circuit then took place in my head. I was simply shocked at the ease with which this woman accepted the possibility of losing. I saw a woman who looked confident while she was about to give up control. One who had fun not knowing what was coming next. Who was obviously different from me, otherwise I wouldn't have stood there like a bewitched pillar of salt with my mouth open.

The Player: A Lesson in Composure

My thoughts were unsettling me. My feelings even more so, because there was clearly an element of envy there. I’d only just spoken to my sister on the phone that afternoon, because I felt as though I’d somehow become paralysed under the weight of the responsibilities and expectations I’d placed on myself. And there stood this statue, with her shoulder arrogantly raised, seeming to laugh at me: „Come on, relax a bit, will you!“ As if she were urging me to let go of the dice for once. To be honest, it had been a very long time since I’d even considered that possibility. The gambler didn’t radiate the slightest hint of fear or insecurity. She seemed lively, cheerful and proud, as if she knew something that others hadn’t yet realised. She played as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

And what can I say, she was right. It’s the most obvious thing in the world. Because whilst we try to cling desperately to every sense of security, in reality the dice have long since been rolling, and all we can do is pray that the number we want comes up. ‘You either master life with ease or not at all,’ a wise person once said. And whilst the dice are rolling, we might as well enjoy our lives. Lightness comes straight after letting go. Clinging on only leads to trouble. If you can’t let go of control and cling desperately to the dice, you won’t have a hand free for the Prosecco. What’s the point of that?

I certainly felt cured of all the notions of omnipotence that I had become entangled in like a cobweb over the last few weeks. You know that cobweb with the fat spider behind it, whispering the eternal siren song: "We'll all love you if you do this and this and this." But the more you get caught up, the harsher the tone becomes: "You're responsible for keeping everyone happy!!!" You struggle, move faster and faster and slowly but surely you feel your own space getting narrower and narrower until it finally says: "Rien ne va plus."

And then I thought, no, I'd rather have the Prosecco!