If someone were to ask me today what played the bigger role in my career — luck or skill– I would probably pause, smile, and say, “I am still figuring that out”.

I do not say that to be evasive. It is just that, like many things in life, the answer is not as clear-cut as I would like it to be.

Sure, I worked hard. I did my time. I stayed late in the office, said no to weekend trips, and prioritized my work over a social life — sometimes even over a romantic life. I gave my all to my craft, honed my thinking, and poured energy into things others would call mundane. Every promotion, every win, every small breakthrough felt earned. And perhaps, even deserved.

But here is where it gets complicated: I also know I was lucky.

Looking back at the decisions I made at various crossroads in my life, I seemed to have chosen the “right” path. But the truth is, I had no real foresight. I did not know how things would unfold. I chose based on intuition, gut feel, sometimes desperation. I prayed. I hoped. In many instances, I was choosing and leaping blindly into the unknown, simply trusting and hoping that the future would be kind to my leap of faith.

That, to me, is where luck quietly entered the picture. The right boss entering my life at the right time. A company opening up a position just when I was ready to move. A door that stayed open just long enough for me to sneak in. These moments, though subtle, were pivotal. And they were not solely the result of skill or planning. They were a result of chance, timing, randomness.

So when other people ask me for advice, I hesitate to give them the usual playbook. Yes, work hard. Yes, be excellent and remarkable at what you do. But also stay alert to luck and serendipity.

Because even when you have done everything right, it might be the unexpected opportunity, the surprising turn, or the random twist that changes everything.

In that sense, I think the wisest career strategy is not just about relentless hustle. It is about being agile enough to recognize when luck is presenting itself — and fast enough to act on it. It is about turning a fleeting opening into a solid platform. And it is about milking every unexpected opportunity for all it is worth.

If skill is about preparation, then luck is the stage: You cannot control when the curtains open, but you can make sure you are ready to walk on when they do.

And maybe, that is the real secret: Not choosing between luck or skill, but learning how to dance with both.