Author: Tenneson Woolf

I love these words (and picture) from my friend, Charles LaFond, writing in The Daily Sip. I continue to learn about the difference in these orientations, knowing that I appreciate both.

It is the timeless, however, that I find myself longing for more of. And though I acknowledge that there are many external things to do in life that are better served by a chronos disposition (even obsession), it is my internal permission for kairos that I really want to cultivate. I doubt it is an external world that will cut through my commitments to grant me the blessing of kairos being.

Earlier today, a friend reminded me of a road trip that we took a few years back. On this road trip in northern British Columbia, we drove near a herd of bison. One of the mothers in that herd, had just given birth to a young calf. It was brand new, and a bit messy. Laying on the ground. Being licked by its mother. My friend reminded me, “life starts and ends in a beautiful mess.”

Back to Kai and Kairos, and Charles, enjoy his words.

 

My English black lab is named “Kai.” The name comes from “kairos” which is a Greek term for “the time in which God lives.” There are two kinds of time in theological terms. One kind of time is chronos time – chronos – like chronology – the clicking of seconds and minutes and hours of human clock time. This kind of time in which humans live on earth, based on the movement of the planets, did not become much of a big deal until the early 1800′s when time became “money” in our western culture as factories became prevalent and clocking-in for work became the way people were managed and – soon – the way humanity was judged by itself.

Kairos time, on the other hand, is not linear like chronos time is. Kairos time does not move from second to second to minute to hour to day and to year in a line moving forward in one direction with the past lost and the future unknown. Kairos time is less like a line on a page with notches moving relentlessly in one direction. Kairos time is not an advancement of a commodity which is lost as it moves forward. Kairos time is a way of being. 

Kairos time, that “time” in which God lives is not linear but is three-dimensional. Kairos time is a time of constant love, playfulness and creativity. kairos time is not gained or lost. It is not used up or spent. Kairos time is a way of being rather than the being itself. If chronos time is seen as a line with notches in it then Kairos time is “laughter at a dinner table” or “two fiends sharing their lives with each other” or “sex” or “one’s favorite food.”

It’s Spring in Utah. The time of Spring when Magnolia Trees (my friend calls them tulip trees) are in full bloom. This is one on the path where I most frequently walk my dog, Shadow. I couldn’t help but stop to take in this full-flowering tree, against a bright blue sky.

Beauty matters. I’m not talking about the critique of beauty. I am talking about the experience of beauty. The moment of feeling timeless. The moment of senses being alive and fully present to just that moment. The moment of temporary communion, soft enough to be changed.

It seems that it should be so simple. Of course rest matters. Time off compliments time on. Replenishment is a part of any living system’s need. As Judy Sorum Brown puts it in her poem, Fire, “What makes a fire burn is space between the logs.”

I think I’m still learning about this. It’s not the cognitive concept that is difficult. For me, it is the emotional freedom to give myself permission that has been more difficult. It’s funny sometimes. Silly too. Frustrating periodically. In a removed way, like I’m stepping outside of myself to watch myself and noticing how obvious it seems and how many self-made obstacles populate my path.

I grew up in one of those families in which hard work was valued. Definitely doing work before play. Everybody had jobs and chores. Play was the reward for work well done. Or rest too. I’m grateful for that family. Values learned there have formed many of the best parts of me.

I suppose some of that commitment to hard work is an insecurity. Got to keep going, for fear of not being valued if not working hard. What a “gotcha” that is, isn’t it.

Well, perhaps it is the small steps that help to make the shift. Taking a 15 minute walk, just because (not as utilitarian step toward greater productivity). Breathing quietly for 20 minutes. Turning off the noise of radio or TV. Resting in the sun. Releasing the incessant drive for accomplishment that will likely be there for another day.

I’m curious to ask some of the teams I’m working with, “In what way to you give yourselves permission to rest?” I’d love to hear what is the subtle (organizational cultures that accept spaciousness as a core value), and what is the more blatant (space between and in meetings for example; or gaps between major projects).

Rest matters. Still learning. And enjoying a breath, just because.

 

 

It was just over a year ago that I renamed this blog and began calling it Human to Human. Quite honestly, I can’t remember what I called it before. It was something more that just “Blog.”

It was just over a year ago that I adopted a more deliberate tone of trying to be better humans together. I’ve sometimes called it “rehumaning.” Some people have loved that focus. Some have felt discord.

This is a foreground and background issue for me. In my profession (I did graduate from a business school), most see the foreground as the job and the human stuff as the background. “It’s nice to get to it, but let’s get back to the real work.”

Our jobs are important, I know. If we are lucky. A contribution to society or to our communities. A means to an end, a way to pay the bills. An evolution of a profession, again, if we are lucky.

For me, all of the jobs that we are in have felt like arenas in which we play out, and evolve, who we are as human beings. It’s not as separate as that sounds — you are either working or being human — of course not.

What interests me, and I believe is essentially strategic, is moving the human part to the foreground. Or, perhaps more honestly, knowing that it is sometimes in the foreground. Let’s go one step further, that the foreground and background oscillate in such a natural way that they become equally recognized as a whole.

I’m so much more interested and fascinated by how we are relearning, or unlearning, so that we can be human together. I describe it this way, in this H2H blog:

Human to Human is a daily blog, Monday through Thursday, on which I post current learnings (taking sporadic weeks off to write longer pieces or to rest). Posts are 300-500 words, often with photos, intended to be read in five minutes and inspire reflection, individually and communally, on varied aspects of participative leadership practices, insights, and human to human depth.

I’m in for another year. And looking forward to it! For those who read regularly or peruse periodically, thank you. And thanks for taking the journey together.