7:22

img_7547.jpgA few months ago, I realized that almost everyday, I glance at a clock at exactly 7:22. Sometimes it’s am. Sometimes pm. It might be my watch, the clock in the car, the microwave in the kitchen, the cable box under the TV, to the lock screen on my phone. On a daily basis my eyes see the digits 7-2-2. By the way, that’s my birthday, July 22.

A coincidence? Maybe. A sign? I don’t know. Some inner prompting? Beats me. A little weird? Absolutely. A number to play? I haven’t tried.

At first it was, “Whoa.” Then, “Again?” Sometimes I wonder, “Does that happen to anyone else?” Mostly I just chuckle. Tonight, I’m trying to imagine some significance.

Maybe it will be a code I need someday to unlock a briefcase filled with cash.

Maybe it’s a message from the future, from another dimension, or from a parallel universe.

Maybe it’s a flight number. A locker number. A key number. A hotel room number. A parking space number. A cable channel. A radio frequency.

When I see it, I now consciously think, “Hey, I’m alive!” I never want to take that for granted. Life is too much of a miracle. Other times, I’ll just whisper a little “thank you.”

 

 

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