At some point in history, someone looked at a calendar, panicked, and decided numbers weren’t just useful for counting goats and debts — they were mystical. Thus was born numerology, the belief that your destiny can be uncovered by assigning magical significance to basic arithmetic.
The premise is laughably simple: take your birthday, your name, or your address, break it down into digits, add or subtract until you get a “core number,” and then consult a chart that explains what it all means.
Congratulations: you now have your “Life Path Number,” which somehow dictates your career, relationships, spiritual purpose, and likelihood of developing an Etsy addiction.
For example: I’ve been reliably informed that because my Life Path Number is 7, I’m destined to be introspective, analytical, and a seeker of hidden truths. Shocking. Next they’ll tell me I like coffee and sometimes get tired.
Numerology promises profound meaning but delivers the astrological equivalent of a fortune cookie: vague enough to apply to anyone, specific enough to sound eerie when you want it to.
And don’t dare point out inconsistencies. If the numbers don’t match the outcomes, it’s because you’re “living out of alignment” — translation: it’s your fault, not the system’s.
Numerology is wishful thinking disguised as math homework.
If you want to find meaning in numbers, try paying your bills on time. At least then, the universe will reward you with fewer late fees.