Dearly Beloved, today we come together to witness the marriage of Chaos Theory and Stereotyping, and to show consideration for how the two disparate entities shape our daily lives.
Let us first consider Chaos Theory. Really consider it. Think about the implications of the ‘butterfly effect’. How does an action, so minute and barely visible as the flutter of the wing of a butterfly evolve to impact the weather on the other side of the world? Is this really possible? Theories are made to be tested, then confirmed or amended. But Chaos Theory, at least as it applies to daily life, may be impossible to truly analyze. Think about the small, almost imperceptible encounters that we have in a day. Not only those with our family members (not to discount them, of course), but those in traffic. In the grocery check-out line. Waiting for a train, or a bus, or any kind of ordinary task that we undertake in public. That energy between you and the guy who cuts you off on the freeway, or you and the person who only needs to buy a loaf of bread (and that’s ALL and they stare at you as you unload your cart with 54 items in it) doesn’t stop between the two of you then and there. If we apply the theory of Chaos to these encounters, we begin to understand that our energy can reverberate and rebound and have some sort of implication later on in a place where we aren’t around to watch.
Onto stereotyping. An effective little tool – one that gets a bad rap, really. If our brains DIDN’T take the time to recognize a thing instantly and then zap it into its appropriate category, we would all be stymied by everything we saw/smelt/tasted/felt/heard on the daily. Imagine the chaos created by people stopping to scrutinize every detail of everything their senses perceived and then putting it in its proper mental container. Of course, if the thing is a) new to you and/or b) merits further review, then we can suspend the stereotyping in order to refine our definition of the thing. But sometimes even then we jam things into their slot in our brains, and move on.
So why these two ideas? To remind me and you that our interactions with others really do have infinite results. That the action of a person, no matter how small, whether a gesture, a kindness, an unkindness, a poem, a leer, a chalk sidewalk drawing, can carry on forever. BUT, we are also somehow unable to really see or appreciate or understand that, because our brains are constantly doing the shorthand work of stereotyping. And, much like the butterfly, we are seldom permitted to see the results ourselves.
I want us to try to bring all of this to the front of our brains, collectively. I don’t ask much, right?
This weekend I attended a real wedding, not a theoretical one. It was the wedding of someone I have known for over 30 years, to someone I just met (happily, SHE hadn’t just met him!). It was a lovely wedding, on a beach, with a gorgeous sunset, and a dolphin visiting on the waves in the background. I’m not kidding. As it is with most of the significant events in life, there were a few people absent from the wedding. At least their physical forms weren’t there. I spent some time at this wedding and ensuing debauchery (it was a fun reception!) thinking about those who were gone, imagining what they might say, what they might be doing if they had been there. One in particular tugged at me all night…and I want to tell a short story about him.
Once there was a boy. A young boy. A sensitive boy. He was a chubby, indoor kid not an outdoor kid. He was introverted and smart. He was an observer, not a participator for a lot of his young life. He came out of his shell a bit and traveled as he got a little older. He became a musician. He became a songwriter. He became a performer. He got really good at all three of those things; but he never got as good as he COULD have been. He was only 24 when he died and the vacuum left behind when he was gone cost people jobs, relationships, measures of sanity, made people question God, and stole some comfort and joy from hearts.
The remaining few got together on the dance floor on New Year’s Day and sang and danced to The Angels Wanna Wear My Red Shoes to remember that boy. I didn’t stereotype or categorize. I let myself see and feel and hear that moment – the moment I was privy to, the moment that allowed me to see the end result of chaos. I danced and sang at the top of my little lungs, while the tears fell. Everyone else on the floor was a relative of his. His mother, his auntie, his cousins. They have a wealth of memories and stories and ways that his life influenced theirs. I have some gestures, some smiles, some inside jokes that we shared, and of course, songs. His life influenced mine. It still does.
On the same New Year’s Day this year across the country from the wedding there was a birthday celebration for another boy. This one was NOT an introvert. He was an athletic kid, an outdoor kid not an indoor kid. He was a friend to everyone he met. He smiled ALL the time. He became a diligent worker. He became a husband. He became a father. He was really good at those things, but he never got as good as he COULD have been. He was 29 when he died in September. My daughter, who is now 24, attended his birthday party on New Year’s Day and called to tell me about it. I could imagine the family holding the 30 maroon and gold balloons and letting them loose into the Arizona sunset. I could picture the smiles of my friends there, and I could taste the tears as well. The scene was described to me in great detail since I wasn’t able to be there. But you see, I WAS there. In theory.
The time that exists between those moments can be like the opening of a zip file. All of a sudden, a flood of things come out that you never knew you had stored. It all becomes so clear during events like those of New Year's Day. We have to learn to never underestimate our power in this world.
Happy New Year.
