Knock on Wood — and Don't Forget to Spit
28. Apr 2026,

There's a secret behind the theatre world's most famous good-luck charm, and most people only know half the story. Anyone who has ever called out a cheerful "Toi, toi, toi" to an actor before a curtain call has, technically, sounded like someone who knows what they're doing — but missed the rest.
Because according to rumour — and rumours are stubborn things, unproven yet enormously attractive — the triple toi is only the beginning of a strictly regulated ceremony. y
The company of actors grabs each other by the shoulders, shapes the three syllables with conviction, and spits.
Over one shoulder. Only then is the wish considered complete. Functional. Delivered.
"Ah, so actors are superstitious?"
No, certainly not. Because superstition brings bad luck.
Rituals and folk sayings are those things you thought were dead but simply refuse to go.
They wait in quiet corners for their cue, then step out of the wings into the spotlight.
And the repertoire of these immortal expressions is richly stocked.
"Break a leg," for instance, sounds like a bad day in the emergency room but is rooted in a wish for a full and prosperous performance.
"Keep your fingers crossed" is no torture method but a way to ward off evil spirits — proper thumb theatre, you might say.
"Wait and see" promises composure but usually delivers lukewarm water.
And "Time will tell" is fatalism in its Sunday best: the conviction that problems will eventually dissolve into thin air, if only you wait long enough.
What connects all these formulas?
They are remarkably survivable, across generations, in an unusually sheltered environment.
Rarely are they questioned.
Rarely does anyone ask whether "It'll all work out" is genuine comfort or a scrap tossed into an awkward silence to fill it.
And perhaps that isn't really the point.
Because once you start to understand these sayings — truly understand where they come from, why they stay, what they actually do — that's no reason to strip them of their magic. That would be the naive misunderstanding of growing up: believing that understanding is the same as disenchanting. It's the opposite.
If you know that the toi only becomes complete through the spitting, you can say it with intention. If you know that "chin up" is not an instruction to your barber but a promise made to someone else's courage, you mean it differently.
Whether the triple toi came before "good luck" — or the other way around — probably can't be answered.
But perhaps that's the real lesson: some puzzles aren't meant to be solved, but to be carried.
And some expressions are simply good for the climate between people — especially in difficult moments, when your own words fail you.
With that in mind: chin up. And toi, toi, toi.

