808. Proof?

3 days ago, I wrote down my deepest secret that I hold close. I kept it hidden, buried, so as to not sound crazy. Insane even.

Feeling inexplicably comforted and at ease when seeing a certain number? Not crazy at all. Nope.

So fast forward to today. This morning. At job#1, I only look at the clock just a few times a day. For break, lunch, and end of my shift. No other reason to look at, or know, the time.

It’s not that I don’t have a clock around. It sits in the corner of my computer screen. Right next to where my computer mouse zooms by. Over and over again.

It is not that I don’t pay attention to the time. I am just too busy, too preoccupied, to not need to know the time.

But this morning, this morning was different. My eyes could barely stay open. I have not been sleeping the best. And I have been busy with the chidlets so much at night that I barely get to sit down.

I am not sure why. I haven’t seen 808 on the clock in many many days. Weeks perhaps. In fact, after writing my thoughts down 3 days ago, it was only then did I notice that I had not seen those numbers in way too long. But that time on the clock, had been on my mind. Albeit stuffed, in the back, hiding. But there.

But this morning, I looked down. At the time. It was not 8:07 am. It was not 8:09 am. It was 8:08 am. On the dot. As in, when my eye caught the minute hand, the 7 changed to an 8.

And then I stopped. And I inhaled. And my weary eyes processed the entire time.

8:08 am.

Exhale. I took my right hand off my zooming mouse, and the left hand off my keyboard. I sat still. Silent. For a moment.

Inhale. Closed my eyes. Exhale. Present. In that moment, a coolness ran from the top of my head, down and out my fingers. Out my toes.

Inhale. Opened my eyes. Exhaled. That moment, I felt my anchor. I came back to center. And I knew, my anchor was telling me that I was drifting. That I needed to come back. Be present. Aware.

8:09 am.

Right hand on zooming mouse, left hand on worn out keyboard. Back to work. Different than before. A lighter step perhaps. A fresh mind.

Fast forward to this afternoon. A couple of cryptic Facebook posts. I felt uneasy. Something was not right. But I was centered. My anchor brought me back from a steep ledge.

Another hour or so passed. Death watch.

Inhale. Closed my eyes. Exhale. I went back to that moment I felt this morning. Without thinking, that is where my brain went. It knew where I needed to be. What I needed to feel.

Inhale. Opened my eyes. Exhale. My guardian anchor angel, she (or he now that I realize it could be my father) knew what I needed this morning. It was her way of saying to be at peace. Be calm. Because the rough seas may be coming, but her anchor, will always be there for me. So that I can stand strong. For myself, for my kids, for my family.

Inhale.

Exhale.