A Number, A Symbol

The Number

For years, I was plagued by, or gifted with a number. How did the number get to me, and why? What did it mean? For the better part of 2 years I saw 3:14 everywhere. I happened to check my phone or watch almost daily at 3:14. I'd see it in passing on a sign or TV. On a few special occasions I even awoke at 3:14 AM and turned to see it on my clock. You could ask some of my friends and old girlfriends, I started to screenshot it after a while. I was taking pictures of it. Remembering every occasion. It had gotten past the point of coincidence. There were essentially two explanations for it. One in the realm of psychology and one in the realm of spirituality. Psychologically, it could have been Viewer's Bias. I could have started subconsciously checking my phone or watch every day around 3:14 to try and maximize my chances of seeing it, so to give credence to that idea and create a feedback loop. If I was doing that I certainly wasn't doing it consciously. Then there is the other explanation, one that isn't backed by science or logic. But sometimes you get a gut feeling, and for the sake of this essay, I'll explore that gut feeling.

Since I was a child I was fascinated by genetics. I wanted to know about my blood, where did my grandparents come from, where did their parents come from. We watched Italian mob movies because they were entertaining, but I always envisioned my Italian ancestors while watching. My Dad was interested in this subject too, although unannounced to me. Over a multi-year effort, he compiled what would become quite a repertoire of information on his side of the family, the Irish side. I later pursued this, which I'll describe in more detail in a bit. When I got older I ended up buying everyone 23&Me kits so we could know our ancestry and DNA. To me it was the scientific revolution I'd been waiting for.

Looking back on those feelings I realize that in doing all that, I felt an attachment to my grandparents in that way. I only have one living grandmother, and I was very young when the other three passed, so I sometimes feel that I never made the kind of connection with them that I wish I could have. I wish they could see me today, and know the adult me. This is something I've felt for a long time but only recently understood.

Continuing chronologically, I rescued a cat, one of four cats that we have, about 6 years ago, Milo. When I was in high school, I lived upstairs at the house and in the room next to mine there was a pool table and a few chairs. One of the chairs was my grandmother's chair. Milo took it on as his own. Of all the places to sleep in the house it was that chair. Every morning when I got up for school he'd wait for me at the bottom of the stairs and watch as I came down. I had a particular connection with him, and it felt, in a way, like a connection to my grandmother. I can't explain it, but the bond we forged was significant and odd. 

So for years I'm seeing this 3:14 everywhere right? I tried looking up biblical verses but nothing stood out. The only thing I could find on 3:14 is the obvious; its the first three numbers of Pi, the infinite sequence of numbers used as a constant to describe the ratio of a circle's circumference to it's diameter. At first glance this seems like enough right? Pi is infinite. It's the mathematical association for the circle of life. Was I being handed this and told what to do with it? Was I just too naive and foolish to make sense of it? It's possible. I had a lot going on in those years. A lot of struggle.

Every year (I've written about this so sorry for being redundant) my family takes a trip to a cemetery in central Florida to see the graves of my deceased grandparents. All three are buried there. It's a special day for our family. It's one of the true Heinton traditions that we've created. In 2017, after a hard few months, I was driving down to the cemetery from Gainesville and I was in an odd place. This girl I was in a sort of relationship with had returned to England to be with her family for the holiday's. She'd been my backbone after a very tough breakup the year prior. This is going to sound strange, but my car was infested with ants. They had begun living in the engine bay and were literally everywhere inside. The whole car ride down to the cemetery I'm killing ants as they're crawling all over me. In a fit of frustration and anguish I pulled over the car at an exit to get out and just take a breather. It was not a good scene. I was asking God, why, why are you doing this, why are you putting the obstacles in front of me year after year. Why have you removed the thing that kept me sane this past year? Why the ants?! As I sit back down in my car, I look at my GPS and it's presenting the correct exit for me to get off to make it to the cemetery, because the exit I'd gotten off had thrown me off course. The correct exit, was exit 314. 

I was shocked. Astounded. I felt like in that moment I understood that 3:14 was a message from my grandparents. It's always been a message from them. And there's a lot of interpretations here. Pi representing eternal life. 314 the exit being the right path I should follow. This fascination I'd had with connecting to my grandparents was at the very core of my discovery of 314. 

Even the ants. It doesn't end here. The plot that mother's parents are buried at is plot 324. Proverbs 30:24 states "Four things are small on Earth, but they are exceedingly wise." Proverbs 30:25 goes on to say, "Ants...", as the first of the 4 things mentioned. It's fascinating. 

Why did the message come in numbers? I wouldn't have understood the answer to this just a few years ago, but I've understood it recently. I've said in the last few years to various individuals that "math is life." And I mean that as it pertains to me but not only that, I do believe that the world is arranged mathematically and can be explained and understood mathematically. Personally I didn't like math growing up, but I was strangely good at it. An old friend of mine recently reminded me that her memory of me in 3rd grade was my speed at multiplication tables. In 7th grade I aced the FCAT Math with a perfect score. And my SAT Math scores were the highest of all my sections. But more than that, I see the world through the lens of numbers. I find myself counting the shirts as I pull them out of the dryer. I find myself counting the square tiles as I walk into a store. I find myself thinking about the future in terms of probabilities. Math is life. No wonder the message to me was provided in the form of a number. I probably wouldn't have recognized the sign otherwise. 

The Symbol

But let me contradict my previous statement in some sense, by offering yet another odd piece of the puzzle. In 2016, my family bought a house in the mountains which marked a very significant time in our history. The cabin was purchased after we'd gone through a dark period of time as a family and it was a major milestone and success for my parents. The result of many decades of hard work. The address of the cabin is 1519 Deer Valley Road. And there's no question why. There's a valley at the bottom of the mountain where the cabin sits, and every day around dusk you can find deer loitering in this valley. The mountain is their home. And now it's ours too. 

Perhaps the weirdest part of this whole story comes from an experience I had in 2019 while I was living in Detroit. I'd done some research of my own and found out that the original ancestors on the Irish side of my family had settled and were buried outside of Cleveland. One day in March (no not March 14th but that would've been cool) I took a day trip to the grave sites. I visited the larger grave site where the sons and daughters of the original Heinton settler were buried. They were buried there with their wives and husbands. Their sons and daughters. Hard to describe the emotions of seeing the burial sites of your lineage.

The original Heinton who'd first come across from Ireland in the late 1800's wasn't buried at that site. I had to venture to a very remote location outside Cleveland to find his burial site. After driving around for a half hour I wasn't able to find a sign or a parking lot for this cemetery which was supposedly exactly where I was on the map. After almost giving up, I finally saw a little dirt path that I could kinda squeeze my car onto and so I did. I parked the car and got out to find that the path led to a trail up this rather large, densely covered hill. I had an inkling that maybe I should follow the path. Remember, no signs still. No signs of life either. But, like faith, I followed the path based on a gut feeling. I get to the top of this hill and through the brush I can see a clearing. I step over a fallen tree and through some bushes to see a pathway to a perfectly cleared circle (Pi - Circle). That circle was the unmarked cemetery I'd been looking for. As I start to move towards the graves I spot a very large deer about 20 yards from me. Standing perfectly still, watching me. He was a buck, not a doe. I take a look at him and I keep moving. I get to the graves and I see my original ancestor's grave, faded but still readable. On the backside of his grave marker was his wife followed by 4 perfectly arranged stones, unmarked but representing children perhaps. It was a spiritual moment for me. The day was dark and grey. That plot of cleared ground was quiet and still. And the deer continued to stand and watch me as I made the rounds on all the other grave sites surrounding my great great great grandfather's. 

All of the sudden there is a man behind me. I was jolted as he said something to me. When did he get here? Had he been here the entire time? How come I didn't hear him come up behind me? I put my hand into my pocket so I had quick access to my concealed gun. He asked me if I had ancestors buried here. I said yes. He wasn't wearing any shoes. What the hell was he doing here? He told me that he didn't have any ancestors buried here but that he liked to come up here and check on the graves. He told me he felt like this site meant something to him. Like he was connected to the dead buried here. I kept a healthy distance to him. All the while that deer still watched me. As I made my final rounds and my final small talk with this strange man I began walking back to my car. The man disappeared into the forest surrounding the clearing. And the deer moved in synchronicity with me as I moved. I hustled down to my car and drove away. It was one of the strangest moments of my life. I later looked up that grave site on the internet, just via the address. It turns out my ancestor was part of a small farming community and he as well as that original community were buried there in the unmarked cemetery. The reports online said the cemetery was haunted. There were numerous stories about people feeling uneasy there. And more than one report mentioned the deer. Even now I get chills typing out the story. But that day I didn't feel scared. I felt protected.

In 2020 my brother moved to a house. It was yet another transition for our family as he became a home owner and really marked the beginning of his adult life. There's an empty lot next to his house, that sits on a creek. It's quite pretty. After only two days of living there he realized there was a family of deer that live on that lot. It's not a lot anyone owns and not a lot anyone can build on. It's a deer sanctuary. In the mornings you can often find them walking across his front yard in the dew. Treading carefully through the fog. 

We're a family of animal lovers. We've had 5 cats, 4 dogs, bearded dragons, hamsters, turtles, fish, and the occasional rescued squirrel or bird in our time together. It's something we intimately share as a family. And so it makes sense for the symbol granted to us to be in the form of an animal. The deer is often used in mythology to represent a connection to the supernatural. Interesting.

Recently, I've been struggling with continuous uncertainty in life. Not necessarily pain and suffering as has marked various periods of my life in the past. But more ambiguity with regards to relationships, work, and direction. I've started seeing 3:14 again. The other day, on the calendar date of 3/14 my computer program ran, and as it always does, it produces a result saying how long it took to run. 3 minutes and 14 seconds. Too weird. Toward the end of the day I realized it was daylight savings day where we Spring Forward. I laughed when I understood the message this time. I'd been really complaining in my head this last season about how dark it gets so early. After spending a very long 6 months in Seattle I yearned for the sun. And so this long winter of early darkness was eating at me. Daylight savings time welcomes my favorite time of the year, where it is light, late into the night. Where I get out of the gym after a long work day and the sun is finally setting. To me it was a gesture to appreciate the small things that come to us all the time, like a bit more sunlight. A bit more time to enjoy and cherish the day.

In my credo, the Desiderata, there is a line that says, "And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should. Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be." 3:14. The Deer. These numbers and symbols, divine or not, have caused me to open my eyes and my ears and think larger than myself. To look for meaning in the chaos of life. If they are indeed from a transcendent realm, then to the senders, I appreciate you, thank you.