An Ancient Art of Timing

You know what nobody teaches you in school?

Timing.

They'll teach you algebra, chemistry, the dates of wars you'll never remember... but they won't teach you the single most important skill for navigating life - knowing when.

I was watching my nephew try to ride a bike last summer. Kid's got determination, I'll give him that. But here's the thing - he kept pedaling harder when he should've been learning to balance. More effort, worse results. His father finally told him: "Stop trying to go fast. Feel the wobble first."

Two days later, the kid was flying down the street.

That's timing.

The ancient Greeks had two words for time. Chronos - the tick-tock, mechanical march of seconds and minutes. That's what your watch measures. Then there's Kairos - the right moment, the opportune time, the crack in the universe where action meets readiness.

We're obsessed with Chronos. We measure everything - productivity, efficiency, response times. We want results now.

But life... life operates on Kairos.

A farmer doesn't plant seeds in winter because his calendar says it's time to be productive. He waits. Studies the soil. Feels the air. And when that invisible moment arrives - that's when he acts. Not a day before, not a day after.

Here's what I've learned after watching people succeed and fail: most of us get the what right but murder the when. We confess our feelings too early or too late. We launch businesses before we're ready or after the moment's passed. We have important conversations when we're angry instead of when we're calm.

Timing isn't about being slow or fast - it's about being attuned.

The best negotiators I know? They don't lead with their big ask. They wait. Create space. Let silence do the work. Then, when the other person's defenses drop for just a second... that's when they move.

Muhammad Ali called it "the phantom punch" - you don't see it coming because the timing is perfect.

But here's the uncomfortable truth - you can't learn timing from a book. You learn it by screwing up.

By speaking too soon and watching opportunities dissolve.

By waiting too long and watching doors close.

By marrying urgency with patience until you develop that sixth sense for when the universe is leaning your way.

The art isn't in doing more. It's in knowing when to do anything at all.

So maybe stop asking "what should I do?" and start asking "is this the moment?"

Because wisdom isn't just about knowing the right answer - it's about knowing the right time to use it.