11:11 and Life

I had forgotten about writing this. I have been recently reminded by another bit of writing on the same subject. It seems that perhaps, as they are mutually inspired, that they should both be put up around the same time.

11:11

 

I would have laughed not to long ago at what I thought were some delusional beliefs about the meaning of these numbers; this time.

            Someone I love mentioned to me how often it occurred that she happened to look at a clock when triple or more digits were displayed: 3:33, 2:22, 5:55, and 11:11, the rarest and longest in repeating numbers. She also said that it seemed to coincide with notable moments of her day, or with momentous moments of people she loved. Yes, things that she had no idea of until later, but felt connected with at that time. Yes, extra sensorial perception of some sort.

            I was incredulous. I told her so. I looked up websites and statistics to prove how incredulous it was. “Do you know, how many times a day your eyes look at a clock?” “Do you know how many minutes of one day, whole minutes, there happens to be repeating digits on a clock?” There are at least 24. That you manage to look at a clock once or many times a day when those double digits are displayed, is not unlikely, and that you notice it, even less so, especially now that you hold this wacky belief.

            Then I came across a site claiming that 11:11 was a divine sign from God, to all his true believers, spreaders of faith, his chosen ones, letting them know… something. They are meant to do something great and they are all linked together by this common symbol; common being the key word, the word that makes the whole concept ridiculous.

            I dismissed this… but then… as I loved this person that told me, I was led to think of her every time I saw any double digits.  At first it was just teasing, about angels looking in to make sure we’re saving the world at said and said hour. “Oh my GOD! God told you to buy that muffin, it’s 11:11.” But over time, during conversations; in person, or by phone; someone’s eyes might flick to a clock and notice it. That person would pause, halt the conversation or get the other person’s attention from the book they were reading, just to tell them it was such and such time. It made me feel good. Particularly 11:11, I suppose because it was rarer… and that it came up enough times meant I spent a good deal of time with this person. Each time was a small anniversary. It was a moments pause, to stop, be still, feel love, and maybe say it. Even when we were not together, it happened that we might both look at a clock at 11:11 on the same day every now and then and think of each other, then mention it later, to pause all over again, and perhaps wonder a bit about the divine.

            This has led me to reflect on the whole “chosen messengers” proposition. Logically I still think it is bunk, but still there is a little grain of something beautiful there, linked to my personal appreciation of beauty in my life.  If I extend that feeling, perhaps not as intensely, but comparably, from between just two people… to many people… to a small group… then a larger group… then that would be quite the moment of reflection on the many people I love. That seems quite beautiful to me.

            This is just one symbol, and happens to be mine right now, the one that fills me with love, at this late time of night… 11 something or other… and there could be any number of other ones, bunnies, feet, airplanes, songs, food, that make people think of love… well they’re all beautiful. Though this one is special in its near universality. Most everyone has a clock or many about them during the day. I like the idea of everyone taking a moment to think of the person they love at 11:11… ridiculous as it may be.