In my 49 years, I have gained some wisdom. Some, like don’t touch fire, came easily, if painfully. Others, such as daring the universe to laugh at you by speaking aloud the Always and Nevers of your belief system, I have learned only slowly and with much pain.

For example, about 12 years ago, I was interviewing the chairman and CEO of the Arthritis Foundation about the new treatments coming on line for Rheumatoid Arthritis, and I had the temerity to say out loud that if you have to get an autoimmune disease, well, that was the one to get. I was speaking from the perspective of knowing my mom’s autoimmune history includes two rare diseases — autoimmune hepatitis and primary biliary cirrhosis — which have little research funding and few treatment options. Less than a year later, I was diagnosed with RA. Haha, says the universe.

There are other occasions, times I’ve said, “I will never do” this or “I could handle that better than her” and fate has contrived to test my mettle. It occurs to me that when I said I would consider risking my life for a bone marrow transplant, that I may have inadvertently dared the world to find a reason for me to need one. I’ve decided I need to change some of the things I say out loud and hope the gods in charge react in the same perverse way as they have in the past.

So:

• I would never date George Clooney.
• If I won the lotto or came into a huge hunk of money, it wouldn’t make me crazy.
• I couldn’t handle a well-behaved dog.
• I’m glad I have a son who feels comfortable enough to keep his room in its “natural” messy state; if it was clean, I would wonder what was wrong with him.
• I will never gloat on social media if books I write make it to the best sellers lists and are made into hugely successful films.
• I have no idea what I’d write about if I suddenly was cured of RA.

The ball is in your court universe. I await your responses with interest.

What would you tell the universe in hopes that the opposite happened? What has happened when you have dared fate?