Punctuality is an Artform

18 Jan

Sitting on the bank of the Ala Wai Canal, I muse over nature’s brilliance as the sky shifts its hue from a deep gray to robin blue. Vibrant rose streaks brush the soft, airy clouds as the sun peaks over the distant horizon. The world transforms before my very eyes. I watch. I wait.

This is the art of punctuality.


Some people claim that they are always late because “there just isn’t enough time” or “it’s just the way I am”. These statements are weightless excuses exemplifying an individual’s lack of understanding and respect for the art of punctuality. Like any other art, some people are born with talent, outshining the rest of us with their talent. When it comes to punctuality, these folks seem to effortlessly manipulate time as if they were the universe’s clocksmith. However, for those of us who seem pulled and tossled by time’s unwavering passing, the art of punctuality can be a difficult one to master.

While I cannot claim mastery over this artform, I have developed a crude albeit successful formula mimicing the results of the most talented souls. The trick is to assume that you always need more time than you know. Google maps says you need 45 minutes? Give yourself an hour. Friends want to meet up for drinks at 5:30? Be there at 5. You’ll most likely find yourself running late; but because of your ingenious planning, you are now on time. Brilliantly played.

Now that you have the art of punctuality within grasp, you might find yourself in a similar situation as myself. You may have to wait. Minutes… maybe even hours. Understand that this too is part of the art and must be dutifuly respected and mastered in turn. Patience. Mindfullness. Respect. Time is precious and by being punctual you are honoring and respecting those who would share time with you. Uphold your part, but do not let others tardiness trump your newfound skill.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Read. Write. Create something beautiful with the time you have. Oberve the everyday miracles that unfold before your very eyes and be happy to be alive and living.


An hour has passed. I have relocated to a more convenient spot for the individual I expect to see any moment now… though in my heart of hearts I assume our time has passed. The streets have come alive now, waves of cars stream by and people walk purposefully. I watch. I wait.

This is the art of punctuality.


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