In the West, we are taught that time flows in a single direction—always moving forward, with the past behind us and the future ahead. This perception, known as monochronic time, is linear, measured, and structured. But time does not only move like an arrow; it also turns like a wheel. In nonlinear, or polychronic, time, the future seeps into the present, summoning us toward our destiny, and the past is not fixed but can be transformed.
Linear time operates on causality, the foundation of modern science: one event leads to another in a predictable sequence. We often believe that our present struggles stem from past experiences—our upbringing, our family history, or past decisions. Yet, when we view time as cyclical, another principle emerges: synchronicity. Here, seemingly coincidental events carry deep meaning, shaping our reality just as much as cause and effect.
The Laika, an indigenous Andean people, recognize synchronicity as a guiding force. To them, chance encounters and unexpected events are not merely accidents but meaningful occurrences woven into the fabric of time. The purpose of an event often holds greater significance than its cause.
This perspective is echoed in poet Robert Bly’s telling of Manolete, Spain’s legendary bullfighter. As a child, Manolete was frail and fearful, clinging to his mother’s protection. Psychologists might explain his choice to become a bullfighter as overcompensation for childhood fears. However, Bly suggests another possibility: Manolete’s fear as a child was not a response to the past but a premonition of his future, where he would stand before charging bulls.
The Laika believe that a future event can influence the present just as much as the past does. Understanding time in this way reduces stress, as we come to trust that both fortune and misfortune serve a larger purpose.
A well-known Zen story illustrates this principle. A farmer’s horse ran away, prompting his neighbors to declare his misfortune. The farmer simply responded, “Bad luck, good luck—who knows?”
The next week, the horse returned, bringing a herd of wild horses. “What great luck!” the neighbors exclaimed. Again, the farmer replied, “Good luck, bad luck—who knows?”
Later, the farmer’s son broke his leg while trying to ride one of the wild horses. The neighbors sympathized, calling it terrible luck. The farmer remained unfazed: “Bad luck, good luck—who knows?”
Weeks later, the king conscripted all young men into his army for war. The farmer’s son, with his broken leg, was spared. The neighbors rejoiced at his luck. The farmer, as always, said, “Good luck, bad luck—who knows?”
Mastering time does not mean disregarding responsibilities or failing to show up for others. Rather, it means aligning ourselves with the flow of time so that we are always in the right place at the right moment. It means trusting the universe to conspire in our favor instead of feeling the need to control every outcome.
By stepping beyond linear time, we enter a sacred space where possibilities shift. Here, we are not bound by past mistakes or rigid destinies—we can choose our most desirable path and transform our future. Once we grasp this, time becomes a tool, not a constraint, and we gain the freedom to shape our own reality.
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