Order / Chaos

Someone accused me of having too much order in my life recently. That my writing practice of three pages in the morning was limiting my creativity. It wasn't intended to be critical, but it’s been bouncing around in my head.

Of course I’m trying to create order in my life. It gets out of hand otherwise. That order allows me to have better moments of chaos. When I’m particularly emotional, some of my best writing comes out. I can do that because of the (attempted) consistency I have otherwise.

Writing is a practice. I realized that a while ago. I have to write every day, even if it’s “I don’t know what to write” so that when inspiration strikes, I’m ready. I’m warmed. My brain is limber and the words flow. I have my tools sharpened and I can run with it.

My problem right now is that I’ve allowed the chaos to pull me a little too far out of my order. My toolkit is neglected, with cobwebs forming in the cracks. The last few months, I haven’t been practicing my writing and it shows. It shows in my morning pages notebook, with sporadic dates. In the surface-level shit I’ve been writing whenever I do crack it open. It shows in my health. I’ve had two colds this year, double my typical number count. It shows in my lack of essays written and shared. My mental health hasn't been great lately, either.

The order brings me to a place where I can feel confident about my thoughts. The more I practice writing, the more confident I am. And I haven’t been practicing. Which is why I have a handful of essays that will never see the light of day. That don’t feel like me. Essays that sound pretentious and half-formed and, frankly, bad. The type of writing that I never want to share.

My practice of daily writing allows me to explore my thoughts, without judgment, and lets me tap into my creative emotional well when the moment strikes.

“Too much order.” Is that even possible?

This person doesn’t know me; it was our first meeting. They weren’t wrong in the observation based on what I said in the conversation, but isn’t that always going to happen when we have incomplete information? We jump to conclusions. We make judgments that are only partially true. I do it. You do it. We all do it. It’s hard not to unless you have a deep understanding of someone.

And even then, do we ever really know all aspects of someone else? My husband and I joke that I can read him like a book. He accuses me of not knowing him after I make an insightful observation, and I simply clap my hands together, open the hinge, and display the “Book of Jake.” We laugh. I know him well, just as he knows me, although I like to think the “Book of Alyson” is a bit more of a complicated read. But, will we ever truly know everything about each other? I don’t think so. I hope we don’t. That would get boring.

Because, despite all the order that apparently is in our lives, there will always be chaos too. We can’t live without experiencing it.

So, yes, there is a lot of order in my life. That order keeps me grounded enough so that when the chaos descends, I have something to hold onto and tools to reach for. I sharpen those tools when I can and embrace their function when I need them.

“Too much order” makes the chaos manageable.