I am sought out by certain numbers, it seems, often in novel ways that leave me equal parts tickled and intrigued. I've written of this phenomenon both on this blog and in a book I wrote on the subject, Synchronicity: One Man's Experience. Today, however, I experienced a particularly extraordinary number-repetition.
It started yesterday, with my trusty timer.
The timer is nothing special, just a standard digital hour-timer, of the kind used to time pot roasts and casseroles the world over. But I've developed a special affinity for my timer, for no particular reason, the way we do anything we use regularly. What do I use this timer for? That's complicated, and immaterial to the subject at hand, so I'll just say that I use it daily. In this regard, yesterday was no different, except for one thing: once my timer went off, I didn't turn off its alarm. I was out of the room at the time, and I'd remembered the timed event on my own, so I just let the timer beep. I knew it would stop after a minute, and it did, so that I totally forgot about the timer -- until today, when I went to use it anew.
Of all the times I've employed my timer, this was the first I'd neglected to reset it afterward. Thankfully, it didn't mind.
One interesting thing about my timer: for some reason, it counts in reverse after going off, and will continue to do so until reset. Well, since I hadn't reset my timer, it continued counting all through yesterday afternoon and last night, as if patiently awaiting my return. As it so happened, the timer waited in this fashion for exactly seventeen hours, thirty-seven minutes, and thirty-seven seconds, hitting that thirty-seventh second at the precise moment I picked it up and looked at it this afternoon. Then, the digital display read 17:37:37.
One of the numbers I repeatedly see is 37, 1137, and variants of these (73, 137, 173, etc). In fact, in the last few weeks, these have been the most prominent repetitions, repeatedly coming to me in ways which defy reasonable chance, and psychological explanations such as selective perception and subconscious fixation.
Not only did I just happened to pick up the timer when it displayed two of "my" numbers by way of the hour- and minute columns, but I picked it up to the second for it to display a third. Quite a trick.
I stood holding the timer for some time after, searching for any possible explanation. But I came up empty. I hadn't so much as gone near that timer all day, so there was no way I could've known what it had ticked to; until I went in the room and fetched the timer, I'd been at the other side of the house, and the timer was turned away from me as I approached.
It bears mentioning that, after seeing 37 and its variants so much lately (and in ways and configurations nearly as unlikely and striking as that of the timer), I had become somewhat jaded to the repetitions, so that they'd lost their wow and I'd begun ignoring them, for all the mystery they represented -- a sensory-overload of sorts. This is significant because it has happened several times in the past, and every time it does, the numbers will begin repeating in different, more coherent ways, as to regain my attention -- and, usually, to inspire more blog posts such as this one. So, not only was the event significantly unlikely in itself, but it conformed with a pattern repeated again and again over years of fundamentally identical incidents.
Seeing such a pattern, a detective would say that the incident "fits the profile." I'm inclined to agree.
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