Timing. I used to hear that a lot when I was playing for my team. Our coaches never missed a chance to throw that word at us. Quite understandable, really, given the nature of our sport. Training, pre-competition days, minutes before a game, and after when we either get praised for winning or yelled at for losing miserably for lack of, yes, timing.
Synchronization. That’s what timing meant to us in or out of the boat. You begin to see different facets of time. Of what it could mean to you, to others, or to you together with the others. That’s how time, words, and a lot of things get interpreted, understood, misinterpreted, misunderstood, and gain meaning subject to your experiences and interpretations.
Synchronicity breeds smoothness of flow. It can be that thin fracture of a line between winning and losing at anything. Do something repeatedly long enough and that’s all you begin to think more about (or think you don’t think about but actually does). It’s there in every waking moment. It could even sneak into your dreams.
Time tells. But it does that in its own time. You see a clock and you think you know time. But you don’t. Because in every given second, things happen that you may not even be fully aware of. Sometimes you feel that something’s off and that things don’t seem to fall into place as smoothly as they should. That sense of discordance could be anything – being in the wrong place at the right time, being in the right place at the wrong time, or time passing by without you getting anywhere. Like a hamster running in circles in its wheel.