At this point moments seem easier to discover.  Is it a developing openness to the possibility of encounter? Is it a case of diminished demands, a changed pace of life? Is it simply a matter of now occupying the other limb of the bell-shaped curve? Whatever the reasons, more moments occur; they are but moments, but there are more of them and they are perfection…

We have taken a lunch break at the base of the cliffs.  The Wingate Sandstone, like it does across the Colorado Plateau, creates yet another towering landscape on this high, dry country.  The sun at noon is steadily building the day’s warmth. The wind has dropped, now almost unnoticeable. But it is the sky.  Throughout the morning’s growing light, the color has been cerulean, but now the more vibrant azure, which provides a better contrast with the white of the wispy cirrus strands playing above the cliff’s rim. A moment, only a moment. But also the pivot, the fulcrum, the crux of the climb…when dreams surface and destinies can change…

Sitting, watching the interplay of the clifftop, sky, and ethereal cirrus, pondering the pair – Chronos and Kairos.  Chronos: the old man and unrelenting taskmaster.  Kairos:  the vibrant and unpredictable(?) young man.

Chronos: something that is quantitative, linear.  And especially in our Western Society, I fear, the master of our lives.  I remember when I first wore a wristwatch regularly.  It was after finishing graduate school in Arizona.  The graduate research took me into the Grand Canyon for days at a time.  The sun’s position established my day’s course. My first corporate job required submission to and regulation by Chronos; hence the wristwatch.   Interestingly, the last battery in my last watch died as I finished up four decades serving Chronos.  I’ve never thought about replacing either the battery or the watch…

Kairos: far more interesting, playful, hopeful. Unexpected?…

Kairos is qualitative, a moment lifted out of Time…  It is a moment.  It is the right moment, the appropriate moment.  It is the moment when Time stops, when there is a pause, when reflection focuses, when illumination occurs. It is that moment when change can occur, perhaps the only moment when profound change can ever occur…

And then there is the relationship between Chronos, Kairos, and the use of numbers as symbols.  On first blush the use of numbers seems fairly straightforward:  to count, to order, to keep track. They are used to accomplish quantitative work.  However, the use of numbers as symbols is as old as, well…time.

We in the Western World today engage in the practice in a minimal way.  The gambler in Vegas may be looking for “lucky 7”; there is a practice on the part of more than a few to avoid “unlucky 13”. However, other societies in other times and other places found great symbolic significance in a great number of numbers…

I had to look it up.  That the number itself is encountered many, many times is clear, but I’ve never tried to add up all the occurrences.  The number is 146. 

Between the Bible’s Old and New Testaments, the number of times the number 40 shows up is 146. In the Jewish tradition 40 has for millenia been a number of profound significance.  It is symbolic of a necessary transition, change, ritual, renewal.  It is a symbol of something that has to happen in order for something better to result.  A chronos time may be involved, but the actual chronos time is not important.  Whatever the chronos time required, the purpose is to arrive at the kairos time…the moment real change occurs.

I like that.  Perhaps a Kairos moment can be something other than serendipitous after all?  Can it become something more than a rare illuminatory out of time experience? Can it become something commonplace?  Wilder’s Emily asks the question from the other side:  “Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it – every minute?”  “…saints and poets, maybe…” replies the Stage Manager…

Neither saint nor particularly adept poet, and a dedicated seeker of Kairos moments, I know the truth in the Stage Manager’s reply.  I’m pretty sure I will never get there, but it was always about the journey anyway…