Inviting chaos
One of the stories my Auntie Anne loves to tell is from the early days when my parents were dating.
She recalls visiting my dad’s apartment in Portsmouth, New Hampshire, where everything was perfectly in place and organized.
Here’s the detail that causes the most glee in the sharing of it: My fastidious father had a copy of TV Guide sitting on top of the television in a leather slipcase, open to the current day.
This is all the funnier to me when I consider that he soon married my mom, thereby gaining ten new siblings-in-law (not including their partners), and within the next ten years had four kids. Auntie Anne witnessed pretty much the last moment of order and calm that my dad would experience in this lifetime.
Of course, I grew up in that household with four kids, so order and calm are not what I’m used to. And while I can see my father’s constant, patient effort to restore that order and calm, the trend in my life has been to recreate the happy chaos of my childhood: tons of aunts, uncles, cousins, siblings, noise, music, and laughter.
So I started a music school. And then I started a small private school. And now that the music school is a thousand miles away and the private school is closed, do you think I’m relishing the peaceful silence? No.
For one thing, I’m in an area that has an extremely boisterous murder of crows that ruins our serenity each morning and evening. But most of the noise and chaos, I’m responsible for. When I can’t find it hanging out with friends and family, jamming with fellow musicians, or downtown in the hustle and bustle of a coffee shop, I will participate in discussions in online communities, text threads, phone calls, and video calls.
Today would have been day three of the new school year, but my life is already full of other things. And I do believe that’s how I prefer my life to be.
I have learned, however, that I don’t have to invite chaos into every corner of my existence. I used to find myself in complicated relationships, overwhelming schedules, and unmanageable clutter. Now, I recognize that I can have a foundation of stability that allows me to solve more interesting problems than, “Where did I put my keys?” or “How do I do fourteen hours of work in seven hours?” I want experiences that are rich, dynamic, and stimulating, not frenetic and enervating.
It’s been helpful to acknowledge my tendency toward chaos. It allows me to thoughtfully monitor the level, like a technician at a nuclear power plant, ensuring that the energy generated is beneficial and not dangerous. I am able spot the moment when I need quiet time and accommodate it.
My self-knowledge also helps in my relationships and my work. Knowing that a fast-paced environment is something that I particularly enjoy allows me to recognize that not everyone shares this preference. When I’m in a position to do so, I can help others to find the setting that is right for them.
There are lots of ways for me to experience the level of activity and intensity that I find most comforting and familiar. Some are healthier than others. I’d much rather go to a tennis clinic than spend hours arguing with strangers on Facebook, for instance. And I’d rather do work that is useful to other people whenever I can.
Now that The Little Middle School has closed, I’d like to choose my next big project with intention so that it can bring me, and others, just as much joy. In the meantime, I’ll try not to fill the space with noise for the sake of noise. Wish me luck.
How about you? What kind of environment do you prefer? What do you seek out on purpose? And what do you accidentally gravitate toward if you’re not careful?