I have been maddened lately by some people’s distain, no, abhorrence for chaos. Their feeble attempts to reign in one of the primary states, even forces, of nature make me want to cry for them.
Let me be more explicit. There are those who, in every day life, try to bring order to events or situations that are by their very nature chaotic; a party, for instance. The more strict a schedule or plan a party is kept to, the more probable no one will want to attend the next one held by the Party Commandant.
Fun is usually a by-product of spontaneity - unscheduled and unplanned - an appreciation of what “is” wherever or whenever the “is” occurs. It could be the surprise of a favorite song suddenly being played on the radio and responding with a sing-along and car dancing. Maybe fun springs out of a box of donuts when the raspberry filling spills down the front of your shirt and instead of freaking out about it, you notice that it looks a lot like blood and stumble down the halls at work pretending like you’ve just been shot. Of course, that’s a bit grim, but admit it, there are those you work with that would definitely call that fun.
Chaos is also the mother of creativity. A story line, a new architectural design, a fashion trend - all of these things flow directly from the whirling of thoughts and mental pictures; like noticing that the messy clothes on the floor of your teenager’s room have put two fantastically original colors and textures together. I thank the Universe regularly for the splotches of life it throws at me and the opportunity it gives me to mix and match until I have a new character and direction for my stories.
So, instead of spending all our time scheduling every minute of the day, labeling every packet or drawer or folder, how about we spend 10 minutes celebrating the power of pandemonium.
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