kylec | Slow Havamal 66

The 66th verse tells us that Odin has come too early or too late to many events, to find the drinks drank, or not even prepared. He adds that a hated man rarely finds the right time.

I have come too early, though not often late. Each of us seems to have his disposition, and mine is to arrive before the stated hour, as if a bomb would go off at that time and I could defuse it merely with my presence. This verse suggests that there is, in fact, a right hour. Not all cultures experience time the same way, and I reckon that’s more true over...well, time. Centuries ago, the Norse wore no watches. Still, everything starts at a given moment, and ends at one, too. When a pair of souls decide to meet, a certain synchronization is called for.

This verse would be rather dull if it only meant to teach us to be on time. Don’t mistake me—I think that’s important. The person who arrives while preparations are still buzzing, or the one who enters during the clean-up, both come with their annoyances. But what is the right time? We can agree on a certain minute, though that rarely stops people from arriving at some other time. Twenty minutes late might be rude to us. The Norse likely had greater tolerances due to travel and life’s tendency to intervene. They might have met at “dinner,” or “dawn.” The right time, then, is the moment when all the forces have come together but before they’re waning again. That includes people, sunlight, and external factors. For a given task, there’s an opportune set of circumstances.

The last line of the verse is curious. Odin says that a hated man seldom nails the right time. Why is that? What do others’ opinions have to do with his punctuality? Maybe his lack thereof is what makes him hated. Odin has erred on both sides many times, he points out. Maybe there’s more to timing than the plain act of arriving at a certain hour.

I’ve often felt, while staring into space waiting for a late companion, that there’s a sense of entitlement to people who can’t arrive on time. That could well apply to both sides—early, included. They appear to think that all other circumstances and participants will hurry or delay to meet their singular needs. I believe all of us could arrive at a precise minute if, say, we were offered $1 million to do so, and were disqualified for being a single minute early or late. Different events matter more or less to us, though, and we plan accordingly.

I can’t help but see a parallel to opportunities in life. I may think I can claim my reward before the work is done, or that I can put off going after a certain goal because it will be there when I’m ready for it. But for everything, there is a season (turn, turn, turn). How many chances have I squandered by rushing them, or delaying until the window irrevocably shut? One who imposes on others, or lets people down, would undoubtedly become hated at some point. We also have to consider the absence of good. When we meet opportunities squarely, fortune accrues, and I don’t mean the literal kind, though it may as well. We make friends, save ourselves troubles, and open connections to further moments of impeccable timing.

To miss our timing is to fail to grasp that there is much more to life than our own whims. It may require sacrifice or patience to meet the right opportunity, but we probably have less choice as to the exact hour than we think. If the hated man seldom gets it right, I can only imagine how others would feel about the one who is prompt and diligent in his encounters with the confluences of prosperity.

*If you're into ironies, I forgot to post this essay at the usual hour, and thus am late.