Whether I’ve mentioned how much I enjoy the concept of chaos is something left to my faulty memory and the ever-increasing archive of articles on this site, but here we go. I wanted to clarify this: I wanted to talk about chaos.
Because I’m not an anarchist, or a nihilist, or even someone who is unspiritual and believes only in materialism—I just like chaos. I love it. Or, rather, I love a flavor of it and feel like I can sense something when it’s really going at full froth.
It’s in a storm as it thrashes trees. It’s when you are running too late for something and go for a full sprint. Shopping on Black Friday. A classroom full of teens left unsupervised.
Even if it sounds antithetical to make it out like a system, I feel like it’s measurable to some degree. A thousand little moments and interplay happening in a closed space, and yet never touching, never really making a direct connection.
I used to kick a ball into the mass of activities that was an auditorium full of kids given free rein and see how many places it went—and how long it took to just randomly come back to me. It’s randomness—but that doesn’t mean it’s not somewhat contained and predictable.
I know I’m contradicting myself—but that’s chaos for you, no? It doesn’t make much sense.
But I know, on those days, where so many things are happening, and it’s an adventure, and the world is not standing the least bit still—but, you emerge, eventually, from it all, breathless and a little cold but still somehow sweaty and realize your mouth hurts from laughing and talking and yelling and you land on your bed, or a hotel bed, or a motel bed, or just a comfy couch, and understand that, for one brief second, that you survived it all, and you will continue to do so, and that it all ended up okay, right? And maybe the universe isn’t so cruel, just full of something like an unconnected wind but more beautiful and maybe it had a knife edge to it, but, today, that force swept you along and hugged you as it spun you, and you drifted down among all the other colorful leaves.
A kid playing among the cascading leaves of autumn once again.
Does that make sense? Am I being clear?
I’ve seen something that isn’t visible in the dance of cars at a busy intersection or in the crowds of a party—and I bet you did too, throughout your whole entire life.
And how could that not be something worth loving?
Special thanks to: Collin Pearman.
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Want to read something longer by me? How about a whole novel!