On Numbers

I was called in to work suddenly and had to get a key. To get the key, I needed a number. More than one number: I found I didn’t have the phone numbers of several people I had to contact. Many people don’t list their numbers anywhere. Eventually, with the number, I got the key.

            Numbers are everywhere; whenever you count, you need numbers. Much is constructed with them. They’re either with us, or sometimes without us. Think of the hairs of our heads that are numbered or the sands of the seas unnumbered. Who does the counting?

            Some things are important to count, yet uncountable. You may count your friends, or perhaps your enemies, but the count says nothing about value. One friend may be a key: uncountable. One enemy may be more grievous than all the counted rest.

            Our years are said to be counted, somewhere, and the psalmist appeals for our days to be numbered. Of course they’re numbered, only we don’t know what number is on them. Today the exequies for a friend, Robbie Bates, are being performed. Many are counted as mourners. Why number the days, before we fly? The psalmist says: to apply our hearts to wisdom.