Eleven is supposed to be a lucky number (I wonder who was the first person to think that up.) . . . but I digress. Since I was informed that eleven was considered lucky, my brain picks up on 11:11, day or night, and my heart makes a wish; I create top tens plus one in a list instead of top tens—kind of like a baker's dozen but one less than a dozen (if that makes any sense); and all the little moments when words on a page or numbers on a menu remind me of how knowing eleven could be lucky changed the way I see the world.
It's amazing what a bit of perspective can do to help us feel lucky—to realize how much is going right. Sometimes it's just the sight of a couple of numbers to flip the switch. Eleven makes me happy now with two ones side-by-side, separate but a real team. And anything that simple to give someone a smile has to be pretty lucky.
Eleven is lucky.