Mess up the desks in a classroom. Scatter them about as randomly as possible (you will, most likely, choose the “randomness”). How does someone entering the room know that the desks are random? The chaos is the absence of an expected pattern.
Patterns enable us to understand. A pin oak grows in a species-specific pattern. A reticulated giraffe looks much like another reticulated giraffe. A football team plays a particular defensive strategy; its opponent devises a pattern designed to beat that defense. Wallpaper. Flooring tile. Neighborhoods. Malls. City ordinances. Biology texts. Morning routine. Melodies. Multiplication. We are steeped in pattern, and we are comfortable with patterns. Think not? Go into that “messed up” classroom with desks oriented in many directions to learn about Greco-American-Inuit iced French toast sculptures used for medicinal purposes taught to a student body randomly recruited from a passing bus, the local deli, and an international airport.
Look for the patterns in your life. Recall the disrupted patterns. Now, ask yourself, “When I was uncomfortable with seeming chaos, did I eventually discover or impose order?”
Chaos made you an explorer at times and a “Creator” at other times. And that’s the way it will be: Whenever you encounter chaos, you will have the ability to discover or create a pattern. Only those who yield to despair fail to find the underlying comfort revealed by personal discovery and creation.