Chaos to Creation
One of the programs that I see running in so many young mystics, wizards, and Guides — is that of the chaos magician.
Many of us who end up walking through the world on a spiritual path came from backgrounds that were rich with trauma, disaster, pain, and an intimate relationship with the unknown. Arguably, we partly became these unique, neurodivergent, psychonautic, adventurous souls through persevering through our harrowing experiences as children and adolesence. Our brains adapted creative strategies that allowed us to make meaning out of challenging situations, disassociate when we were powerless, and create imaginary realms where we could find safety, love, and connection. As children, all we knew was the chaos — and we learned how to exist and thrive within and despite it.
As adults, the program of chaos tends to follow us until we unwind it and find another way. One of the most problematic programs I have ever found in my own psyche was that “I require chaos in order to Create”.
I truly believed that my creativity was dependent on whipping up a tornado of energy, opportunity, and oftentimes drama, in order to generate force to pull a vision into reality. However, overtime I saw that this way of creating left me feeling overwhelmed, depleted, and wasn’t producing the results that I truly desired — which was to create a peaceful life that allows me to exist in a river of creative flow.
Reprogramming this belief has been much of my work this past year. I have been practicing rooting down in situations that feel chaotic and not allowing myself to get swept up in energetic tides that feel overly exciting or “high vibration”. I have come to find out that these “visions”, ideas, and opportunities that elicit a strong emotional reaction rarely come fully to fruition and oftentimes simply waste a lot of energy in the process. I know, it feels exciting! But, for what? For another peak experience? A potential opportunity to change the world? The world will change, don’t worry too much about that.
These high energy experiences come like waves. And we all know what happens to a wave… it eventually crashes on the shore… just to be followed by another, and another, and another.
I no longer desire to be caught up in the waves. I now wish to become a more gentle ripple — the vibration of which slowly crawls across the lake until it becomes part of the body of water again. I intend to walk along the shore and choose my skipping rocks carefully. I examine each one, first with my eyes, then I feel it as I clutch it in my hand. I can run my fingers along its smooth surface, and I know it is right when it is thin enough to feel like a disk between my fingers. I compare its size and weight to the other stones I gather — and then I choose which one will have the best chance of skipping the furthest across the lake.
Once I toss the stone towards the water, I can marvel at how well I chose as it skips 2, 3, and then 4 times across the lake. But like I said, the real beauty is found in the ripples that are created once the rock is done skipping. The beautiful, gentle, emerging force that effortlessly moves across the water, healing all things in its wake with its vibration.