Full Swing

Two thousand and eleven: 2011. The number 11 has always been special to me. 10 ends with nothing. 11 promises another one for every one. In the chronological sequence, eleven follows the definitive emptiness of ten. Every hour and every minute of the day proceeds from null into one-thing.

Elevensies are fresh and new in every decadal sequence. They are the flourish of the fullness of each and every moment and, at the same time, they are the hope and the dreams of every moment that follows. Between me and that nothing are the number nine.

Should I live for the next nine seconds, I can be sure. Should I live for the next nine minutes, there’s time to love and I love you. Should I live for the next nine hours, I will believe in tomorrow. Should I live for the next nine days, I would like to thank everyone for everything. Should I live for the next nine months, I hope to see another life born. Should I live for the next nine years, as I expect I will, the depth of love, itself, may come to me. Should I live to see the number 9 in any year greater than this, I trust in my own hope that you all wish me well.

Any decade or age that ends in zero, ends with little more than closure. And any time that zero ends our cycle of being, happiness, and nurturing, the timely end confers a renewable hope, brighter than any closure in the number that follows.

One is the beginning. One is the Omega. I’ll see you there!