At times I feel my life is devolving into chaos. Other times I feel I am only a few steps away from perfect order. My life never falls completely to pieces nor is it ever perfectly orderly.
I find it humorous, in a grim sort of way, that part of me strives for order and peace and routine in my life. Control. Yet when we write stories of people who live lives of perfect contentment and order we set them forth on adventures that will make them unfit for their former way of living. They are forever changed for the better, we feel.
I have never met a person that lived a life of contentment and perfect pleasure. It is a pervasive illusion that we daily sell to ourselves. This is what I am striving for. This is what I will become.
Lives of perfect order do not exist. But I need not fear my life will ever become pure chaos.
There is no point of perfect order to strive for, to seek in the future somewhere. My life is what it will be and will be what it is.
Each day I step forward into a future that is equal parts chaos and order. My orderly life would be incomplete without the chaos and the chaos would be unlivable without the order.
So true. I never really thought of it this way; that when characters in stories live lives of perfect contentment, we enjoy watching their experiences turned in upheaval to make them learn and grow. We're always working towards something, but it will never quite be complete.
ReplyDelete