Structure–even frail and fragile and failing structure–seems preferable to sudden and complete disorder. The center does not hold. The old logic is suddenly devoid of common understanding. Change for its own sake yieldsÂ a horrible tsunami of ambiguity and chaos where we could once see our way to the next thing.
I’m staring at this sun-through-the-pines image from a rest stop somewhere in Kentucky on Sunday, looking for what it might say to me in yet another hour of traction-less spinning in the sand of current events.
And I think about a conversation last night that reached two conclusions: certainly our world is going to be rocked by internal national forces the majority has set in place; and it will be rocked–perhaps much sooner than we had thought–by forces our species has set in place and has perpetuated and soon accelerates, even after we knew we could not treat this place with arrogance and indifference in the face of inconvenient truths.
And to those two quaking shocks the consensus of response was: maybe this stark polarity is what we needed to see more clearly what we must do. Maybe this cataclysmic disordering shines a light for us in those dark places in a way that less pernicious and outrageousÂ convulsionsÂ never would.
Maybe out of chaos comes cosmos. It has happened before.