Chaos and Order

I hear her talk about needing the balance of both chaos and order in my writing session. She speaks how the way we do one thing, could be the way we do everything. I sit listening, thinking about both. The balance. The lack thereof. Which way I lean. The way I do one thing being the way I do everything. The state I exist most in. The balance. The lack thereof.


One thing. Leading to everything.

I picture in my minds eye how I float through my home like a personal hurricane of creative flurry. Blowing through each room and through my life. With a purpose, an image, a vision, but without the system or order of graceful execution. Going from the early morning writing of a story on the computer, being in the moment, to being whisked away in a breeze that rushes me into the momentum of everyday chaotic life.


Whirling me into the kitchen as my son wakes up, to prepare breakfast before zoom school starts in half an hour. Never knowing if the internet will work, if he’ll get kicked out because of the signal. If he'll be paying attention or if he’ll know how to get back on. Knowing I need to sit close by in case any disaster takes place. Essentially taking second grade again along with him. Logging into school before I cleanup the broken egg shells now laying on the kitchen counter, the burnt eggs on the frying pan and dirty bowls now in the sink. Telling myself I will clean them later. In the next gust of wind.

But then there's snack, followed with independent school work, then laundry, then, shit, has the dog eaten? Yes, but she probably needs to go for a walk. Ok. Wait on school work. Let’s walk the dog. Grab your mask. Pick up her poop. Get back. Wash your hands. For 20 seconds. Back to snack. Back to school. Wait. Did I put the clothes in the dryer? What am I going to make for dinner? Do I need to thaw something? A few work texts and emails sprinkled in. A notification on my phone. Another event at the white house. Still masks optional. Still not mandated. When we now know how its spread.


The windstorm bustles.


The speeches of law and order echoing in my mind, along with the chaos that seems to ensue without guidance, without unity, without truth. “Not wanting to panic the people”, so keeping information from them. “Chaos” craving order, but “order” feeding the chaos.


Wondering why the hell we don’t all get on the same page. About a mask. A simple, paper mask that our health care workers have worn all day everyday for years and multiple shifts on end. A mask we now know will save lives. Just one thing we could agree on. One thing. Can't we do one thing in unison? That one thing possibly manifesting into how we do everything.


Or will the breeze become a storm, turning into a twister blowing apart the last of our unity when it was all in our grasp. If we had someone to tell us what this was, truth we could handle as we historically always have. Together. To arm us with the facts we need to make an informed decision. Causing unnecessary division. Separation while refusing to acknowledge reality. Leading people, people who support you, to an illness. One they may not recover from. One they will not get the same treatment for. That no one can get the same treatment for. Leaving us to argue its existence. Our validity. Our health. Our lives.


In my minds eye, I'm now sitting with my back to the dead end of a dirty alley. Surrounded by shades of grey. Multiple variations of dark and light hues reminiscent of ash. Lost among each other. One fading into the former. The dust clouds, the smoke layers, the exhaust and leftover fumes of gas and emotion. From the litter riddled asphalt, to the dumpster, to the fog blurring our reality and vision. The distant screams and cries echoing in the background. I’m sitting in the aftermath of pain and unrest. After the protests, the looting, the tear gas, the rubber bullets, the marches, the batons, the shields, the hammers, the skateboards, the masks, or once again, the lack thereof. The battles between different sides. Both equally as passionate as the other. Equally divided. Equally fighting for what they think is right. What they want America to be. Their prized land. The land of the free. The home of the brave. The freedom to speak, the right to bare arms. Liberty and justice for all. One fighting for that to be true. One fighting to keep things the same. As they always have been. Equally fighting so hard they are unable to hear the other. Neither willing. Both consumed in what they feel is their rightful state. Both equally passionate to win.


I’m sitting among “chaos” and “order”. We all are.

How clearly I see the imbalance. As I sit back against this dead end alley wall. How clearly and necessary I see the balance needed in order to unite. For real change to ever happen. Not seeing how we will get there amid the rubble.


No one knows what's going to happen. No one agreeing. Will there be more resistance? A civil war? More chaos? Met with an opposing force posing as more “order”? While fueling hate and control. Igniting a stronger battle against it. Energizing anarchy. A crumbling of our democracy. The last stitch that we had. What we once were, vanished in the aftermath of dust clouds, smoke layers, gas fumes and emotion.


Wondering, can’t we start with one thing? A simple mask. One thing. Possibly effecting how we do everything.


How it could unite and bleed into other disputes. Other opinions. Other division. It seems so simple. So clear. The glaring imbalance. The desperate need for balance.


Wait, did I finish my story? Did my son finish his book? His school? His math? Did I fold the laundry? Did I forget to prepare lunch while planning dinner? I take a deep breath. Recognizing my own chaos. My own need of some order. My only goal to be a good mom. To survive this current national debacle. Giving him what he needs to survive this moment in the process. Trying so hard to keep it all down. To stay sane. To remain balanced. To keep the order of maintaining a daily normal life when everything seems anything but. When there are no signs it's going back to normal or any signs of what the new normal will be.


In the chaos I can see the importance of order, but in a tightened order, I can see the necessity for chaos. Chaos to lead what drives change. Good trouble. The gust of wind blowing me, us, forward. Pushing us in a new way, in the best way to benefit us all. Knowing the chaos is needed to create new ways to maneuver through. Even if it only resembles a personal hurricane of creative flurry. It is causing movement forward in a way I, we, have never done. I need chaos to strategize my way out. I need the order to ground it. Hoping the future of our nation will continue to do the same. With a purpose, an image, a vision, but with the system or order to a graceful execution. A strategic, honest, unified way. Igniting a new way forward. Room for both, chaos and order and the space for balance between the two. One thing... effecting everything.

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