From Lucky to Blessed: Reclaiming Our Place in the Sacred Web of Life

There’s a lie that runs like a current beneath much of modern life: the belief that the good in our lives is accidental. That we are lucky—or unlucky—floating aimlessly in a universe without meaning. It’s a disempowered, disconnected story. One that tells us we are alone, separate, and subject to the randomness of fortune.

But what if life isn’t random?

What if it’s relational?

What if every blessing in our lives is part of a web—woven with spirit, intention, lineage, and reciprocity?

In Rastafarian culture, the word “blessed” isn’t just a nicety. It’s a vibration. A declaration. A way of recognizing the I&I—the divine self that lives in me and lives in you. It’s a reminder that we are not separate from Jah (God), nor from each other. To be blessed is to be aligned with the Most High. It is not random; it is rightful. Earned not through merit, but through being in right relationship—with life, with purpose, with the Earth, and with one another.

Indigenous traditions across the world echo this truth. In many First Nations teachings, blessings are not things we get—they are flows we participate in. Life is a ceremony. The water, the fire, the ancestors, the animals, the wind—they are all relations. To be blessed is to be in harmony with the sacred rhythm of things. When we live with respect, when we remember our original instructions, the blessings come not as reward, but as the natural outcome of alignment.

Compare this to the Western notion of “luck.”

Luck is accidental.

Luck is disconnected.

Luck is won.

But blessings?

Blessings are witnessed.

Blessings are remembered.

Blessings are given and received with humility.

When we change our language from “I’m lucky” to “I’m blessed,” we’re not just swapping words. We’re shifting worlds. We’re reclaiming our place in a living universe where nothing is separate, and everything is part of the unfolding mystery.

We’re also rejecting the narrative of unworthiness that has colonized our minds—the one that says we must hustle, strive, and prove our worth in a system built on extraction and hierarchy. That story was never ours. The ancestors didn’t walk with spreadsheets. They walked with songs, prayers, and knowing.

To say you are blessed is to remember that your life is not an accident.

It is to honour those who came before.

To root yourself in the sacred.

To recognize that even your breath is a gift.

Even your pain can be a portal.

So let us speak differently.

Not from superstition, but from sovereignty.

Not as gamblers hoping for a win, but as sacred beings, walking in rhythm with the Earth and the stars.

You are not lucky to be alive.

You are blessed.

Now, live like it.