Expecting the Unexpected

There is a corollary in physics that order is always implicit in chaos, and chaos is always implicit in order.  Most of us have probably had a time in our lives where things were going great, and all of the sudden something unexpected totally upended our lives: chaos being implicit in order. Most of us can probably also remember a time when things just seemed so crazy that they made no sense at all and then suddenly like pieces of a puzzle, everything fell into place, revealing a new reality that couldn't have been imagined just before.

My day started with almost back-to-back reports of massive protests and violence in the Ukraine and Venezuela. A report followed shortly thereafter that Mississippi seems to have reverted back 60 years with a noose incident on the statue of James Meredith, the first black student at the University of Mississippi.  Of course, the incident generated protests there as well. Violence continues in Syria, the Central African Republic, and South Sudan.

When I went to bed, I had been watching stories from the Winter Olympics where the Canadian son of a Chinese immigrant trains for men's figure skating in Detroit, while the winner of the gold in that event was a young Japanese man who trains in Toronto.  Then, of course, there was the Kazakhstani son of Korean parents, who has trained in Russia and now lives and trains in California.  I cannot neglect to mention the Russian hockey player, who is star of the Washington (DC) Capitals, who is competing for Russia, or the Russian snowboarder whose parents took jobs in Switzerland when he was young. In Vancouver, he competed for Russia; this time he wore Swiss colors.  Not only did the world seem orderly, but I felt the coming together, which I believe is our destiny to claim.

How my consciousness was jarred this morning with chaos on my clock radio even before I was out of my bed. Was this the same world that put me to bed? All day I've felt a sense of spiritual confusion.  Yet, I know that chaos has been the vehicle for a global outpouring of love before.  I recall the week in which we lost Princess Diana, Mother Teresa, and Sir George Schulte.  For a few days the world stilled, grieved, and loved. Millions wept together. And can anyone who was alive and over 10 forget the daily crumbling of the former Soviet Bloc.  That chaos, which preceded the order of new states emerging, has often been followed by more chaos, such as in the Ukraine today.

I cannot forget, personally, how the chaos of a spontaneously breaking neck led me to finally realize my passion for dance nearly 20 years ago.  I am most grateful for the pain that brought me to dance.

Maybe expecting the unexpected should be the order of the day every day.  If God is mystery, perhaps any time that we begin to think we know how things are is just the time God shows us that we really don't know. We are reminded to reach out. Certainly at times of change in either direction are times that we often utter prayers, either of gratitude or pleas for help and mercy. Tonight as I say my prayers, I will offer both: a prayer of gratitude for peace, order, and sanity in Sochi and another prayer for help and mercy in places plagued with violence all around the world.

Living with ambiguity

I passed through the front door of my agency tonight after staying a bit late to finish up some details.  I pulled my rolling briefcase, loaded with computer and files, as well as things I'd cleaned out of the office refrigerator.  Will I or won't I?  That was the question.  I work for the federal government and as our fearless congressional leaders play with our lives, those of us whose jobs may dissolve at the stroke of midnight mostly just want to serve our mission.  Will I be able to do my job or won't I?  Will I have a job tomorrow or won't I?  Will I get paid or won't I?

By the time I reached the Metro station a block away, I was in another place.  I am living with ambiguity today and, if truth be known, always.  Most of the time our minds convince us that we know what we are doing and what is going on around us.  Truth be known: we can't possibly know.  Ever. 

Ambiguity is mystery. God is mystery. The more uncertain we are, the closer we are to God.  As my walking meditation continued, I asked myself what I thought was a rhetorical question: if I am being my most whole, how do I navigate ambiguity?  But instead of lingering without answer, the answer was there in an instant.  "Be present." 

Oh, that again.  There is a pattern here.

I knew in an instant that the answer was right. Just float in the now and then check in with the heart. The answer is always right.  We don't need to know what is going on around us; we just need to know that answer inside of us will tell us what we need to know next.

My day has been long, and I am tired.  As I prepare to go to bed, I don't know whether I will go to work tomorrow or if I will go to work for a week or even several weeks.  I don't know whether I will have money to buy groceries or not.  I do know one thing: I don't need to know.  I just need to be present...and listen.