Numbers
Photo by Kunj Parekh on Unsplash
I feel as though I would be remiss if I did not write about the significance of today for many Americans.
It’s 9/11, and those numbers will always cause some level of painful * ping * in our collective memory.
But I’m also can’t stop thinking of other numbers.
Like 1700.
Today is 1700 days of walking, every single day. Walk365ish long ago became a journey that continues to astonish me to this day.
And 18.
The age that a high school senior in our community was tragically killed this week, alongside his sister (26), and their mother - by their father/husband who then took his own life.
Last night, my 16-year old son’s tennis team, hand in hand with their rival team from across town, paid tribute to that 18-year old.
And 43.
The age that I will turn in just a few days, an age that I look forward to celebrating wildly over this coming weekend.
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So many numbers, meaningless on their own, given immense emotional power when put in context.
We assign meaning to certain numbers and pay no attention to others..
We celebrate each year with hope and delight on 11:59 p.m. on 12/31/xx. It’s a random change of numbers on the calendar, but we assign it meaning and give ourselves permission to change our mindsets - collectively - for a few hours.
We (at least in our culture) tease and laugh and honor (or dread) turning 40 years of age, “over the hill”. The day we turn 41 years of age usually is given no such significance.
There are so many more.
I wonder how life would feel if we honored those numbers for what they mean to us, collectively and individually, but we also expanded our perspectives and hearts to include meaning without numbers.
Every day of movement (1700 days, 572 days, 1 day) is a day to embody the joy of doing so.
Every age (18, 43, 77) is one for which we can offer deep gratitude - especially because we don’t know if we will reach the next one.
Every date and every minute (12/31/xx at 11:59 p.m., 9/11/xx at 4:43 p.m., xx / xx / xx at xx : xx) is a time to honor the fullness of life, of what this moment might mean if only we let it mean something.
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Last year on Facebook, I wrote,
“Think about all of the people who woke this morning, (18) years ago, expecting another routine day.
Think about all of the people whose lives were drastically changed (or ended) that day.
Think about what they might have done differently in those last hours, if given the chance.
In their honor, LIVE today. LOVE today. APPRECIATE these hours you have been given. INSPIRE at least one other person to feel and do the same.”
Words from one year ago. 365 days.
Countless memories and unexpected events and feelings ago.
And I write these words today, right now, inviting both of us to do something: If only for one moment, to forget about worrying about this practice being for only 1 moment.
Don’t look at the clock, don’t think about the 14 things to do this evening.
With your breath, expand into feeling beyond numbers. This inhale, exhale, inhale, … exhale.
Live today, love today. Appreciate these hours - counted or not - that you have been given.