Timing is everything... Or is it?

Life is all about timing. Even your car has a timing belt. (And NO, it is not made by Gucci or Armani. It’s a coil of rubber that wraps around pulleys and… Never mind….) The point is, everything in life boils down to timing. I was reminded of this fact over the last few days.

On Tuesday of this week, for the first time in easily five years or more, I took to the ice in an effort to resurrect my hockey playing “career.” And by “career” I of course mean “going to skate & shoot prior to joining a men’s league to pretend I am a far better player than I really am.” My hockey playing, and skill level, were both hampered early on by a blown out knee. Still, I love the game, and can offer no legitimate reason as to why I’ve stayed out of it for so long.  Why start back up now, at nearly forty years of age? Timing. A friend of a friend needed skaters, and I just happened to be available. So, in the immortal words spoken in the great Tom Cruise movie (before he went bat sh*t crazy) Risky Business, “Sometimes you just gotta say what the f*ck.” 

For those keeping score at home, my timing while skating was initially AWFUL. And when I say awful, I mean “Mitt Romney wonders why you can’t open the windows on an airplane” awful. Each pass I made was late or off target, and each shot I fired either went wide or right into the goalie’s pads. There may have been an off-sides. Or six. But as the afternoon went on, my timing got better, the passes crisper, and even a shot or two found its way into the back of the net.

Where am I going with this, you ask? Never under estimate the power of timing. Sometimes you make your own, and sometimes timing is a cruel trick of fate. Timing can mean the difference between a game winning touchdown and a game losing interception. (Subtle note to the NFL –For the love of Vince Lombardi, THANK YOU FOR BRINGING BACK THE REGULAR REFEREES.) Timing can mean love lost, or found. Timing can mean a smile on your lover’s face, or a scowl. Perhaps an opportunity missed, or gained, will affect you greatly simply because of the hour, day or moment in your life at which the opportunity arose, or passed you by. No matter the timing of the event, there are only two things about it that you can control: the memory of it, and what you do with it.

Memories are stirred by any number of things: a scent, a photograph, an email, or a conversation. Why? Because there exists some existential, underlying reason for the timing of whatever it is that triggers your memory. What was it that gave you pause in that split second it took you to climb over the boards that gave the other team a three on two rush down the ice? Was it the crowd noise that caused you to stutter-step at the line of scrimmage, preventing you from catching a fifty yard touchdown? Why, God, why did you get a flat tire that made you late to an interview for a job you surely would have otherwise gotten, but didn’t, that forever changed your life? Or was it an untimely circumstance that caused you to cancel a date on which you very much wanted to go? Maybe it was the fortuitous timing of a friend being there, at just the right moment, to save a life? Whatever the timing, whatever the reason, moments, missed or otherwise, shape us, for better or worse. Why? For what purpose? (If I knew all the answers or was able to make predictions, I wouldn’t be writing a blog. My butt would be parked at blackjack table in Vegas.)

Whatever the reason for the timing that drives the out of control bus of our lives, I can give only this advice: Make time. Some things in life are too important. If the timing isn’t right, then do something else until the timing is right. It will be. Although it feels like you’re constantly in the wrong place at the wrong time, rest assured: eventually the right place and the right time will meet and say “hey! I know you! Let’s get together! And wow! You have bacon! Sweet!”  (Ok, I added that last part.) Hell, there may even be times you’re in the right place at the wrong time. (Like that time I let the guy with one item go in front of me at the grocery store, and he was the millionth customer, and he won a year’s worth of free groceries and couldn’t even spot so much as a pack of gum YOU CHEAP SON OF A BITC….ahem. Sorry.) 

So. Timing. Yeah. It’s not always perfect. But when it’s right, it can mean a sly look in your lover’s eyes, a message from an old friend, a job offer, or the game winning goal. Don’t lament bad timing; learn from it, accept it, and realize that your time will come. (And stop Googling “timing belt.” I already told you – it is NOT an accessory.)


© J.J. Goodman 2012. All rights reserved.