When I was younger, my favorite Harry Potter scene was when Ron became a Gryffindor prefect. Molly Weasley told Mad-Eye Moody and Moody responded with the funniest line in Order of the Phoenix:

“‘Prefect, eh?’ growled Moody, his normal eye on Ron.

“Well, congratulations,” he continued. “Authority figures always attract trouble, but I suppose Dumbledore thinks you can withstand most major jinxes or he wouldn’t have appointed you.”

Naturally, no one else I know thinks this is the funniest line in the book (see my August 21 post), but it gets me every time. I’m laughing even now, just typing it out. What a hilarious congratulations. “Oh, you achieved this thing? Congrats. I’m sure you’ll survive it…maybe?”

As I’ve gotten older, however, my favorite scene has switched. I am now devoted to the Felix Felicis scene. 

In Half-Blood Prince, Professor Slughorn awards Harry a vial of Felix Felicis: liquid luck. While under the influence of the potion, Slughorn promises, “all your endeavors tend to succeed.”

“One tiny bottle, twelve perfect hours.”

In Chapter 22, when Harry uses the potion to try to retrieve the all-important memory from Slughorn, he feels like the luckiest man alive.

“Slowly but surely, an exhilarating sense of infinite possibility stole through him; he felt as though he could have done anything, anything at all…and getting the memory from Slughorn seemed suddenly not only possible, but positively easy.”

Then Harry shocks Ron and Hermione by saying, “Right…I’m going down to Hagrid’s.”

With his twelve hours of liquid luck, they expect Harry to go down to Slughorn’s office. To follow a linear sequence. First, drink the potion. Second, go find Slughorn.

But things don’t always unfold in a linear manner, do they?

Instead, Harry trusts his “good feeling” about going to Hagrid’s. “I feel like it’s the place to be tonight, you know what I mean?”

“No,” Ron and Hermione respond, “looking positively alarmed.” They have no idea what he means. To them, the plan doesn’t make any sense at all.

But Harry trusts the nudge from Felix Felicis and proceeds.

“Why he knew that going to Hagrid’s was the right thing to do, he had no idea. It was as though the potion was illuminating a few steps of the path at a time: He could not see the final destination, he could not see where Slughorn came in, but he knew that he was going the right way to get the memory.”

And it worked. Harry’s circuitous path gave him the outcome he wanted.

He trusted in Felix Felicis, listening to each nudge liquid luck gave him, and it worked. Trusting paid off.

This morning, I wiggled around my room trying to get clarity on a decision. I turned to shamanic tools, like using a pendulum, until finally I stood in front of the mirror and remembered my favorite Harry Potter scene.

I live in a world of enchantment. I can’t wave a wand or make potions or do any Harry-Potter-y things. But I can listen to nudges. I can trust and surrender.

And, for me, trusting and surrendering means trusting my instincts. Trusting my desires. Trusting what I want instead of fighting against it. Surrendering to a circuitous path, one where I can only see a few steps at a time, instead of insisting on proceeding in a linear, logical manner.

And, because I enjoy living this way, I laughed in delight, a grin overtaking my face, enjoying the Universe’s permission to do the thing I already wanted to do.

I know where I want to go. I also know that I want to enjoy the journey.

In my worldview, I make both of those things happen by setting an intention, getting crystal clear on my ask (and always adding, “that, or something better,” because that’s a handy trick), then using tools like meditation and shamanic journeying to receive guidance on aligned action. I don’t try to force anything. I listen to my intuition, my emotions and my desires. Then I proceed. I trust and surrender, surrender and trust.

I have no idea if it will always work out, but I’ve been tickled pink by the results so far. Here I am, living a lifetime that feels so lucky that I frequently have to pinch myself. Maybe it’s a perspective thing. Maybe it’s an aligned action thing. Maybe it’s magic.

I couldn’t tell you because I don’t know. I also don’t feel attached to knowing. I’m happy to be happy. To have peace. To be enjoying the journey. So I focus on that piece, trusting that the rest will sort itself out.

There’s a shamanic practice you can do to “install” the frequency of liquid luck. It’s not spelled out in the book, but if you read Hank Wesselman’s Journey to the Sacred Garden, you’ll have all the knowledge you need to sort it out for yourself. If you’d rather book a session and be guided through the process, go to my website (keelycopeland.com) and visit the Shamanic Energy Medicine page for more information, including rates. The easiest way to book a session at the moment is to message me – I’m traveling and I deactivated my online calendar.

Wishing you a day, week, month, year and lifetime filled with luck,

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