Okinawa Time

It’s January 1st, and we’re off for another trip around the sun. Do you hear anyone whining, “Are we there yet?” Is anyone fretting about finding a place to park and clean rest rooms along the way? There is no one demanding, “Hurry or we’ll miss the good part.” And no one is howling, “Slow down or we’ll all be killed!” We’re all along for the ride, and we leave the pace of travel up to the universe.

Okinawa time works like that. An event is set in motion and then left to unfold itself step by step, in its own good time.

Few events in Okinawa start, as the rest of the world is fond of saying, “on time”. It’s not about indifference to people’s busy schedules; it’s about sensitivity to life’s rhythms. No one expects every baby to take his or her first unaided step at precisely age one year, two weeks, three days, and six hours. Why insist that a wedding, graduation, store opening, or whatever begin at exactly 10 AM?

Time is thought of as just one of many natural cycles that occur without regard to human convenience: the rising and falling of tides, the crop cycle, the migrations of fish, the coming and going of a typhoon. A human lifetime does not unfold according to the clock, and—in Okinawan logic—neither do the events that make up our days.