I have a small religious medal my mother gave me. I keep it in my wallet and carry it everywhere. She says it brings me good luck. I don’t dare get rid of it. Partly because it’s a gift from my mother. Also, because… well, I’m not sure what would happen if I did. Does that make me a superstitious person?

On the other hand, I’m a believer, but I don’t practice any religion. I can walk under a ladder without a second thought. Black cats don’t scare me. I can be on the 13th floor of a building without noticing the infamous number.

I think, in one way or another, we’re all superstitious. Some more than others. We unconsciously try to attribute our good or bad luck to some charm that protects us. I know people who wear a specific red garment to close a business deal. Others knock on wood when they hear something bad happened to someone. Some make the sign of the cross when passing a cemetery. It feels safer to do it than to risk some divine curse falling on us if we don’t.

Superstitions aren’t bad, as long as they don’t become an obsession. I believe the future doesn’t exist yet, and destiny isn’t written. Our most basic decisions shape the probability of good or bad things happening to us. The knowledge and skills we cultivate are what prepare us for the opportunities that come our way. Our superstitions aren’t entirely harmful. After all, there must be some magic in the universe worth believing in. Yet, they’re useless if we don’t make the right choices. We must also develop the abilities that help us be ready when opportunity appears.

But while the debate takes shape, I’m not planning to get rid of the little medal in my wallet.