You’re in the Numbers: Finding Yourself in Pi

Did you know you could find yourself in pi?

This isn't just some abstract philosophical thought experiment. In a very literal sense, your name is woven into the fabric of this constant. You can find your name in the digits of pi if you convert every digit into a base 27 number system where A to Z becomes 1 to 26, and a space becomes 27.

I mean, think about it. Pi's digits (the infamous 3.14...) are so random that, eventually, every possible combination of letters shows up. Your name, your birth certificate, or the entire works of Shakespeare are all buried in there somewhere.

But here’s the thing: not all of us can really see ourselves in those digits. Some of us see a wall of numbers that feels like a foreign language we never quite learned to speak, or a 'nerdy' holiday that feels like a private party we weren't invited to because we struggled with long division in 4th grade.

If the whole idea of Pi Day feels a bit elitist or makes you want to roll your eyes—giving you a literal bad taste in your mouth (which, honestly, is impressive for a holiday sharing a name with a dessert)—I totally get it. I see where you're coming from.

But I'd argue you don't have to be a 'numbers person' to find a seat at the round table for Pi Day. At its heart, Pi Day is a celebration of the restless, curious human spirit and the fundamental human desire for knowledge that can drive us to decode the universe, and ultimately, to transform wonder into innovation.

You might've heard that a monkey at a typewriter could eventually bang out the works of Shakespeare. But the difference is that the monkey doesn’t care about the story; he’s just hitting keys. Humans are the ones who spent centuries obsessing over the circle, building the typewriters, and finding the poetry hidden in the data. That’s what sets us apart: we don't just exist in the infinite sequence; we’re the ones trying to make sense of it.

Whether it’s etched into the world’s most iconic architecture or scribbled on the exam paper you’re agonizing over at 3 AM, the thirst for knowledge remains the primary engine of human progress.

Look at the Pyramids of Giza. Thousands of years before we were stressing over formulas in classrooms, those stones were laid with a precision that defies their age; the ratio of their base to their height almost perfectly captures the value of π, whether by intentional genius or accidental geometry. But even the greatest engineering marvels start with something less tangible: the obsession to see them built.

Then look to William Shanks, the man who, armed with nothing but a pen and a dream, calculated pi manually to 707 places—a monumental feat of human endurance that stood for decades before a tiny slip in his calculations was discovered. Regardless of the error found in his work, it goes without saying that Shanks's perseverance and commitment was nothing short of superhuman—yet another example of the lengths humans will go to when we're fixated on accomplishing something.

What pi(e) are you hungry for?

We often feel the rigorous pressure of academics makes it feel like a closed door, but the history of pi proves it’s a wide-open field. All you need to have is the curiosity to ask "why", which is an innate quality of every human being, whether you’re a STEM major or a studio artist.

Pi Day isn't a VIP club for the "naturally gifted." It is a seat at the table for anyone who has ever looked at a problem and refused to walk away. Whether you are building a pyramid, calculating decimals by hand like Shanks, or simply trying to survive your next midterm, you aren't just a bystander in the numbers. You are the one making sense of them.

You don’t need to be a math genius to celebrate the 'hunger for knowledge.' Today, take a second to look at your own journey as an infinite sequence. Just like pi, your growth is irrational—it doesn’t have to follow a predictable pattern or fit into a neat little box to be meaningful.

Ask yourself. What is one subject or skill that feels like a mountain right now, but you know will eventually be the thing you're most proud of conquering? I want you to know that you should stick with it.

After all, if the digits of π are infinite, so is your potential to figure it out.