On Turning 77

By this time, I thought, I would have had the answers. Given enough time, and 77 years seems long enough, not only for the answers but the persuasive abilities to convince others. The knowledge and experience, layered upon circumstances, endlessly repeated, should have given me the ability to judge the proper course that should be set. And yet the world moves on, regardless of what I think or do. 

“The spiritual meaning of the number 77 holds a profound significance in our lives, inviting us to delve deeper into self-awareness, introspection, and personal growth. By embracing this energy and incorporating it into our daily routines, we can unlock new dimensions of understanding and wisdom.”

Easy for them to say. The physical body, far from personal growth, seems to lose functionality at an alarming rate. Self-awareness and introspection, combined with hard of hearing, and short-term memory loss, renders such efforts ineffective in even finding the car keys (oh, I forgot, I don’t have a car).

“In Christian tradition, the number 7 represents completion or perfection. The number 77 may symbolize an important turning point or moment of spiritual awakening in one’s life journey.”

Sister Mary Slap-on-the-Wrist did her best when I was 7. At 77 it only now kicks in? I hope I was not sleepwalking for the last 70 years.

“Judaism and Islam place significant importance on the number 7 as well, particularly in their sacred texts. The number 77 could represent a call to deeper understanding or connection with spiritual truths. In Chinese culture, the number 7 is considered lucky due to its resemblance to the word for “life” in Mandarin. Similarly, in Hinduism and Buddhism, the number 7 is associated with chakras – energy centers within the body – suggesting that the number 77 may be linked to our spiritual growth and development.”

Well that is a little more positive. I could use a little more of the “energy centers within the body”. Especially after a big lunch and a few rhums. I fear I am becoming a Mexican with a love of siesta

But answers to life’s questions, if one believes life asks them, are as elusive as ever. It seems we must look inside one’s self to find any answers. Now they tell me! Socrates was right all along. It is not the answers we seek, but only the questions we ask that are important.

 So, what questions do I have after kicking around for 77 years? I know why the sky is blue, why ego causes war, why man is the only animal that blushes, or needs to (thanks Mark Twain). I know that

77  Sunset Strip was a TV show 1958-1964, that 77 is the only number that can be expressed as the sum of the first eight prime numbers: 2 + 3 + 5 + 7 + 11 + 13 + 17 + 19; that James Bond climbing the Hills of Genoa could be called 0077.

What Agnes Collard called, “untimely questions”, should I ask? Questions that are difficult to answer because they rely on our own experiences to frame. Songwriters Lymon, Santiago and Merchant asked “Why do fools fall in love”. We all fall in love with people, places or things, so I guess we are all fools at some point in our lives. What is the answer to that?

So, we are in St. Lucia (ala- looking for a shaker of salt?) and asking questions with infrequent, conflicting, reflexive and sometimes perplexing answers. And yet the world goes on, despite our explicit opinions and advice. Well, at least the weather is warm and sunny, but where are those dam car keys?