I

I do not enjoy numbers as I do words.

Numbers: the language of mathematics, the infinity of progress, life sustained, the articulation of prodigious professions, noble pursuits, a summation of rigidity and exactness, measurements and calculations.

Is foreign to me.

II

Words: the language of history, poetry, literature. Of that for which we stay alive: beauty, romance, love.

Words and combinations of words, in their fluidity, an ever-changing dance of expression and meaning.

Tactile.

Words roll off the tongue and push from the lips.

Words transverse the senses – I taste vowels and touch consonants.

Satisfaction!

III

Words capture the nuances of human emotion, the subtleties of thought, the expanse of imagination.

Words create worlds and words narrate wonder.

Words weave stories, describe pictures, and sing songs.

There is no right or wrong with words. Only interpretation.

Words thread the tapestry of human experience.

Alchemy!

IV

Yet, in my aversion to numbers, I recognise a paradox.

For in their precision, numbers possess their own beauty.

Of structure. Of universal understanding. Of unspoken agreement across cultures and time.

Numbers build bridges. Connect disciplines and people. Numbers are the silent, indispensable foundation of civilisation.

Without numbers, the universe collapses.

Really?

V

Numbers and words are not so different.

Both essential.

Both lenses through which we look at ourselves.