A Walker in the Suburbs

A brief post on numerology: There are scads more weddings today than there were on this equivalent Sunday last year. The reason, of course, is the date — 10/10/10. Not only a “perfect 10,” but when the digits are added up (1+0+1+0+2+0+1+0), they equal 5, which stands for love.

But don’t believe me. Consult any numerologist. I heard a numerologist interviewed on the “Today Show,” which I watched this morning to see my friend Carla interviewed about hypochondria and her book Phantom Illness. (Go, Carla!)

The numerologist was on earlier in the show and she suggested that on this auspicious day, we should light a white candle and meditate on what we still hope to achieve this year.

I have a stub of a white candle on my kitchen table. I think I’ll give it a try.

Maybe it’s just the optimist in me, but I relish every fresh start I’m given. The first entry in a new journal or the first day of a new month. Finding an excuse is easy; cultivating enthusiasm is hard.

September has seemed longer than usual this year. I’ve been waiting for days to flip the calendar. Now that a new month is here, I feel the faintly anxious drumbeat of opportunity. There’s a magazine to finalize, essays to write, books to read and closets to clean. But right now, there is just the first day of a new month and a blank page before me.

“It’s a great way to celebrate the beginning of things.” So goes a line (as well as I can remember it) from one of my favorite movies, “A Thousand Clowns.” Murray and Sandra are throwing confetti to pretend friends on an ocean liner (shouting “Bon Voyage, Charlie, have a wonderful time”) to celebrate their new romance, a romance that (among other things) will eventually lead Murray to re-enter the 9-5 world he loathes. (“You’ve got to live in the real world,” says another character to Murray. His response? “I’ll only go as a tourist.”)

While beginnings seem to belong more to the crisp days of fall than the swelter of mid-summer, there are exceptions to the rule. Many fiscal years begin tomorrow; medical residencies, too. And here at Georgetown Law, where I edit the alumni magazine, we meet our new dean today. So this is a beginning, pure and true. But even if it wasn’t, it could be a day to celebrate. I take beginnings wherever I can find them.