About Time for One About Time

What time is it? How much time do we have? I need more time! There's not enough time for this. There's too much time before that. Last time, next time, this time, the time before that. Time after time after time....

We use this word probably every day, but have we ever stopped to ask ourselves what "time" really means? Obviously in most modern cultures it is a measure of duration between events, and a means of synchronizing activities. We all agree on "time," so it has collective meaning. But even within that agreement, we see it differently from person to person. I have friends who see time as a renewable resource, ever abundant and plentiful. There will always be more of it. These are the folks who see deadlines as elastic, with them appointments are "penciled in," for them "8ish" means anywhere from 8 to 9. These people will probably live longer lives, because they don't seem rushed and stressed about "time." They'll "get around to it."

Then there are those for whom time is a non-renewable resource. It runs right the hell out, usually before they are ready. "8ish" means between 7:50 and 8:10. Deadlines are not only inelastic, but are chiseled in stone and are racing at them full speed. Appointments aren't penciled in; they are written in blood, and woe be to those who try to cancel them. These are the people you want remodeling your house, doing your taxes, and driving you to the airport. But these people often have high blood pressure, insomnia, and/or ulcers.

I have to admit it: I'm in that second group. As I get older, I am trying to learn to manage my time, but leave some available for the little surprises that make life spontaneous and magical. I sometimes have to let a self-imposed deadline slide so I can play catch in the backyard with my son, or get a little more sleep, or get in some more meditation. I once heard a great quote, "There will be stuff in your in-basket when you die." In other words, there is always something that "needs to be done." But it can often wait.

I had the privilege of meeting a wise and wonderful Cherokee spiritual leader several years ago (we'll call her Verna Rainwater). Verna used two terms for this concept: Kronos time, and Kairos time. When she referred to clocks, minutes, hours, days, etc. she called that Kronos time, and it's what we use to schedule our daily lives and manage where we are and when. We race against it and feel it running out. But Kairos time is the rhythm that flows naturally through our lives when we aren't worried about the past or the future. When we are in the moment, fully and completely, we experience Kairos time. This is how time feels to us when we gaze into the eyes of someone we love, or when we hold a sleeping baby in our arms, or when we meditate deeply. We are so in the moment, we don't even feel the passage of "time."

And here's something even more interesting than this dual idea of time; she didn't see time as linear. We think of time as a line on which we can plot points: past, present, future. But the Cherokee (and they are not alone in this belief) see time as cyclical. Eastern religions see it this way as well. In fact, a book I read recently even postulated that time is simultaneous. That "past" and "future" are physical constructs that we invented due to our limited perceptions in this consciousness, but in reality, everything is happening right "now."

Maybe I have been watching too much Lost, but I think I kinda like that idea.

Anyway, the reason I am preoccupied with time right now is because I feel like I don't have enough of it. I'm teaching five writing classes and taking a labor intensive eight-hour class every Saturday, while raising two kids (and two cats) and maintaining a home (with a large yard that needs mowing). I'm also painting, writing, cooking, grocery-shopping, bill-paying, reading, exercising, and drinking lots of coffee. I also have friendships to maintain, and I try to remember to eat and breathe on a regular basis.

Since I can't create more time, I guess all I can hope for is to try to see it differently. For example, I could have decided that I didn't have time to write this post. I need to grade essays and read for my class. But I promised myself when I started this blog that I would keep it updated regularly. So I am choosing to spend this particular hour writing about time. I doubt I will regret it.

So back to Verna Rainwater. One day when I was early for a lunch that my Cherokee friend was "late" for, she laughed when she arrived and saw me sitting there. "You're on Kronos time, I see." I laughed it off, thinking she was blaming her lack of punctuality on her highly developed spirituality. How convenient. But looking back now, I think she saw something about me that I am just now getting, all these years later. I am on Kronos time, trying to empty my in-basket before I die.

So what's in your in-basket that can wait until tomorrow, or the next day, or forever? What can you safely put off so that you can allow a little Kairos time to flow into your life? You have my permission (and Verna's) to stop the clock and take a breath. There is a sign on the wall in my home that says:

Breathe. Believe. Receive. It's all happening now.

I guess I finally get what that really means. About time.