The Spirit of Chaos and the Chaos of Spirit

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    The Spirit of Chaos and the Chaos of Spirit

    By Patricia Monaghan

    One day, chaos grabbed me.

    I had actually studied chaos, scientifically. I had been a science writer for years,

    first specializing in geophysics and later in alternative energy. But science

    remained a fairly intellectual enterprise, especially when I was working on my

    doctorate in science and literature, examining connections between early

    quantum theory and post-modern literary theory. Then suddenly, my husband

    was diagnosed with cancer and was up against chaos in the non-technicalsense.

    I already knew something about chaos, because I had grown up in chaotic family

    environment. My father was a highly decorated, but deeply damaged, Korean

    War veteran. He brought war home in his psyche, in a way that will become

    familiar to so many thousands of other families in the next decade and beyond.

    And we his children, growing up with violence, suffered from secondary post-

    traumatic stress syndrome. One of its manifestations is that the psyche can

    adapt to erratic behavior by investing heavily in attempts to control the

    environment. I was one of those people who had to have everything just right in

    order to feel safe enough to function.

    Nothing is just right when someone you love is terminally ill. I was blessed with

    having a strong, unconflicted relationship with my husband, the novelist Robert

    Shea. Bob accepted cancer as a spiritual challenge. He once told me that the

    secret of happiness is to live like you have cancer, but not actually have cancer. It

    was a great spiritual challenge for me as well. Having life spiral out of control was

    more terrifying than anything I had ever previously experienced, and I

    experienced a spiritual void such as I had never known. And so, I began to studythe science of chaos.

    Like most of us in western society today, my philosophy had been unconsciously

    influenced by dualism. Much of that unconscious orientation was derived from

    the African philosopher Augustine of Hippo, who changed little of his philosophy

    when he changed his allegiance from Persian Manichaeism to Christianity in the

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    early fourth century. Following Saint Augustines lead, our culture describes

    opposition while other cultures see polarity. In Japanese Shinto, for example,

    good and evil are not opposites; evil, represented by the storm god Susano-o, is

    whatever is out of place, out of balance, rather than something permanently

    opposed to goodness. In Shinto, something can be good in one context and bad

    in another, depending on where it occurs and when it occurs.

    Our own language harbors a similar spiritual truth: our word evil derives from

    the word full, thus what is e full is excessive, beyond natural boundaries. The

    word is not related etymologically to the word good, which derives its roots from

    that which means to gather or to bond together. So even in our own language

    we have a different vision than the one that says that good and evil are opposite

    forces that can never interact.

    Augustine and his lot argued the soul and the body are separate, that they wereat war. This persistent misapprehension was accompanied by other dualities:

    women as opposite to men, the head as opposite to heart, light opposite dark,

    and so on. Such visions encourage dualism and separation, rather than bonding

    and holism. They affect us, whether we will it or not.

    Today, Id like to talk about the order verses chaos duality. Its history begins with

    Plato, whose ideal world of abstract perfection leaves out most everything in our

    real world, which looks tattered and imperfect by comparison. In science, the

    Platonic tradition includes Euclid and Pythagoras, who imagined a world of

    perfect unalterable forms of triangles, circles, and squares, predictable and clear.

    But life is not that way. Life is messy, erratic, and unpredictable. Is life itself,

    nature herself, therefore deficient? The philosophy with which I grew up with

    encouraged me to think so. And so, confronted by the erratic, messy, chaotic

    process of cancer, I had no philosophy to fall back upon for understanding.

    Chaos came to the rescue.

    There are two theories vital to understanding chaos. These are sensitive

    dependence upon initial conditions, also known as the butterfly effect, and the

    self-similarity of fractal geometry. To illustrate these concepts, let me share with

    you poems that resulted from my many years of struggle to understand the chaos

    of my own life, poems published in my book, Dancing with Chaos.

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    Stepping aside from the science of chaos to reflect on its literary heritage, we can

    find descriptions of chaos in literature in such early writers as the Greek Hesiods

    Theogonyand epics such as the Sumerian Epic of Gilgamesh. To ancient writers,

    chaos was the great formless sea from which form emerged. Dancing with Chaos

    begins with my translation of one of my favorite classical writers Ovid, whose

    Metamorphosisis a series of tales of transformation:

    In The Beginning

    Before land, sea, sky, before all that:

    nature was chaos; our cosmos, all chaos;

    all the same enormity, all in one;

    there was no form, no moon to walk

    the night, no earth to dance with air,

    no ocean touching shimmeringlythe fractal reefs and particulate sand;

    life and lifelessness the same,

    roughness, smoothness the same,

    heat falling into cold, cold into heat,

    dampness falling into drought,

    heaviness falling into weightlessness,

    yieldingness falling into adamant.

    Now let me tell you how things change,

    new rising endlessly out of old,

    everything altering, form unto form,

    let me be the voice of mutability,

    the only constant in this world.

    Mutability, change, chaosit is the only unchanging aspect of life on this plane,

    the only constant in this world. But it is not, as you might imagine, utter disorder.

    Chaos has its own rules, which science has been unfolding for us.

    The first principle of chaossensitive dependence upon initial conditions, or thebutterfly effect are the subject of this somewhat whimsical poem I wrote:

    The Butterfly Tattoo Effect

    Does the flap of a butterflys wings in Brazil set off a tornado in Texas?

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    Edward Lorenz

    Charlene was fifty when she got it:

    one small butterfly, perched on

    her right shoulder, bright blue

    with stipples of pink. Everything

    in her life seemed safe by then:

    husband, children, house and dog.

    She wanted to be a little dangerous.

    When she left the Jade Dragon

    she called her oldest friend, Joanne,

    in Florida, with the news. A tattooed

    gal at fifty, she bragged. I aint done yet.

    Joanne laughed that throaty laugh of hers.An hour later on her way to work,

    she stopped on a whim and bought

    a gallon of red paint for her door.

    That night, she didnt drive straight

    Home, but stopped for a drink at an old

    haunt from her more dangerous years.

    No one she knew was there, so she talked

    awhile to Flo, the bartender, told her about

    feng shui and red doors, and oh yes, she

    mentioned the tattoo just before she left.

    It rested in Flos mind all night as she

    She was warmer than usual, sassy and loud.

    Things got wild. There was dancing.

    A new woman stopped in and picked up

    one of the regulars. Washing up past midnight,

    Flo thought of her old friend Paula, who

    lived in California. It was still early there.

    Flo picked up the phone, right then,

    and called. Somehow the subject of Charlene's

    tattoo came up. Paula had been thinking

    of getting one too. Why not? Life marks us all,

    why cant we chose our scars just once?

    They talked till late. The next day Paula

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    walked into a dealership and bought

    the reddest car she saw. By nightfall she was

    driving fast, towards the sea. And the next morning

    the world awoke to news of seismic convulsions

    on every continent brought on by

    the simultaneous shifting into high gear

    of millions of women in sleek red cars.

    To understand sensitive dependence upon initial conditionsthe butterfly effect

    we must hark back to the simpler days when Newtons physics gave us the

    perhaps overwhelming confidence that if we knew the original position of any

    moving object, and the force and angle from which it was hit, we could trace its

    trajectory and find out where it would land. The formula was great for baseball

    and for Newtons apple, so it seemed to scientists in the pre-chaos days that, ifgiven enough information of where very sub-atomic particles were at the moment

    of the big bang, we would know the future. Simply do the math!

    Then, Edward Lorenz came to the forefront. But in order to explain Lorenzs

    discovery of the butterfly effect, I need to go back to the turn of the twentieth

    century. Physicists at that timejust a few years before Einstein broke the news

    of relativitythought they had pretty much got their field under total control. The

    prominent scientist Lord Kelvin even told a class of graduating physicists that

    they would have boring careers because pretty much everything was already

    known. Among the few problems still unsolved, Lord Kelvin admitted, wassomething called the Three Body Problem. Let me describe it in a poem that

    begins with an epigram from the man who finally solved it:

    The Three Body Problem

    These things are so strange

    I cannot bear to contemplate them.

    Henri PoincarIt was easy to figure out when there

    were just two: me, you. Easy, remember?

    The route between us, always starting

    here, ending there. Me to you. Never

    the other way: starting there, ending here.

    Pattern set, route established. We knew

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    what to expect, how to act. We thought

    we about the future.

    Ah, the future. It would be the same; route

    set, pattern established. We knew how

    everything moved, me to you, one of us

    a satellite and one a sun, one peripheral

    to the others center, me drawing the same

    circles around you, over and over. Easy.

    But then suddenly, as we were looping

    our usual loop, me to you, me to you

    suddenly, there was the other. A new body.

    A third. Me, you, the other. What would we

    do now? Where were the centers, how couldthe circles be drawn, who was to move how?

    Two bodies, then a third.

    This could have been many stories,

    even one as simple as two friends,

    having coffee one morning, who

    make space for someone to join them,

    after which their conversation falters.

    Each of us has many such stories.

    Two bodies, then a third.

    And everything is different after that.

    This is one of those stories. This is

    the story in which the third body

    is one with arms that reach and hold,

    eyes that gleam and smile, a body with

    all the parts a body needs to comebetween other bodies. That story.

    No one can predict what will happen

    when a third body joins a two-body

    system. Linear equations are useless.

    One thing is certain: things will change.

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    We could not go on as before, just another

    loop added, once an opening had been made

    for chaos

    When three bodies interact, everything

    becomes important. Huge changes are caused

    by the tiniest gestures: a glance, a whisper,

    the touch of fingertips on the inside of a wrist.

    Two bodies, then a third.

    And everything is different after that.

    Everything was different after Poincar. He pointed out that linear equationscannot solve the three-body problem. Only non-linear equations could do the job.

    If you think algebra was hard, dont go anywhere near non-linear equations. In

    fact, when Poincar lived, nobody could solve a non-linear equation: even a

    lifetime was not enough time to do the math.

    The computer, however, brought us enough computational power to solve

    relatively simple non-linear equations (some are still too long to figure out). In

    1960, when Edward Lorenz was a meteorologist at MIT, he was running some

    atmospheric models on a big mainframe computer. He faced the following

    problem: every time he plugged in data, the same answer kept coming out. Whythen was weather so unpredictable if a model of weather was so predictable?

    One day, Lorenz arrived to find out that the computer had malfunctioned in the

    middle of a run. So he started it over. But he rounded off the point at which the

    program had ceased, by merely a fraction. When he returned, the results were

    entirely different. All from a few decimal points! What Lorenz had discovered is

    that calculation must be based upon precise data. But the most minute change in

    the input can completely change the outcome. If an action is iterated and

    reiterated through a system, each action can create more than its equal andopposite reaction. Even a tiny action can cause a major upheaval. This poem

    addresses that significant realization:

    The Poised Edge of Chaos

    Sand sifts down, one grain at a time,

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    forming a small hill. When it grows high

    enough, a tiny avalanche begins. Let

    sand continue to sift down, and avalanches

    will occur irregularly, in no predictable order,

    until there is a tiny mountain range of sand.

    Peaks will appear, and valleys, and as

    sand continues to descend, the relentless

    sand, piling up and slipping down, piling

    up and slipping down, piling upeventually

    a single grain will cause a catastrophe, all

    the hills and valleys erased, the whole face

    of the landscape changed in an instant.

    Walking yesterday, my heels crushed chamomile

    and released intoxicating memories of home.Earlier this week, I wrote an old love, flooded

    with need and desire. Last month I planted

    new flowers in an old garden bed

    one grain at a time, a pattern is formed,

    one grain at a time, a pattern is destroyed,

    and there is no way to know which grain

    will build the tiny mountain higher, which

    grain will tilt the mountain into avalanche,

    whether the avalanche will be small or

    catastrophic, enormous or inconsequential.

    We are always dancing with chaos, even when

    we think we move too gracefully to disrupt

    anything in the careful order of our lives,

    even when we deny the choreography of passion,

    hoping to avoid earthquakes and avalanches,

    turbulence and elemental violence and pain.

    We are always dancing with chaos, for the grainssift down upon the landscape of our lives, one,

    then another, one, then another, one then another.

    Today I rose early and walked by the sea,

    watching the changing patterns of the light

    and the otters rising and the gulls descending,

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    and the boats steaming off into the dawn,

    and the smoke drifting up into the sky,

    and the waves drumming on the dock,

    and I sang. An old song came upon me,

    one with no harbor nor dawn nor dock,

    no woman walking in the mist, no gulls,

    no boats departing for the salmon shoals.

    I sang, but not to make order of the sea

    nor of the dawn, nor of my life. Not to make

    order at all. Only to sing, clear notes over sand.

    Only to walk, footsteps in sand. Only to live.

    Sensitive dependence upon initial condition did not displace Newtonian physics;it extended it. But it also complicated it. Chaos theory tells us we can calculate

    the trajectory of any baseballs arc through the air, so long as we know the exact

    location and angle from where it was thrown. But exact turns out to be an

    extremely hard thing to determine. Even the slightest difference between the

    angle of a pitchers arm between one pitch and another makes all the difference

    in the world of where the ball lands. Life is not wildly unpredictable. It is just very,

    very, very hard to measure.

    The second important part of chaos theory I want to discuss is fractal geometry.

    Again, I want to use a poem as illustration. When I began working on Dancingwith Chaosas a book rather than a pile of poems, I looked for a narrative to

    help the reader understand process of chaos: rigid stasis, catastrophic

    dissolution, then re-emergent order. This is the process of life and other turbulent

    systems: nothing stays the same.

    Chaos science is based on the examining turbulence, which you can easily

    observe by watching a river. Just before its rapids, a river looks very sleek. This

    shiny spot is called laminar flow, and I think of it as being like those points in life

    where everything is peculiarly calmthe proverbial calm before the storm.

    Laminar Flow

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    Wallace Stevens

    We were driving. You were silent.

    I had given up speaking and sat watching

    out the window as the hedgerows flew by.

    You wanted to drive to the top of a hill

    to see a chapel. Or perhaps it was I who

    wanted that. We were driving, in any case.

    In my memory, we are often that way:

    driving. Not speaking, just driving.

    That time I was remembering a farmer

    who had loved me. Loved me and sent me

    away, back to you. I missed his nakedness.You were never naked with me. Your eyes

    were always cloaked, your heart shrouded.

    There was some confusion, I remember.

    Something about a wrong turn along the way,

    at the bottom of the hill. Finally we found

    the chapel, a charming place beside a pleasant

    overlook above a river. Children ran laughing

    along the paths. There was nothing wrong.

    There was absolutely nothing wrong.

    Understanding turbulence means getting rid of that ideal world of Plato,

    Augustine, and his friends. It means getting our feet wet in the real world. One of

    the great innovations of chaos science has been the articulation of a new

    geometry that describes this bumpy, inexact world in which we live much better

    than the old geometry did. The old geometry which consisted of what we learned

    in high schoolfinding the area of parallelograms, squares, rectangles, and

    trianglesthis was Euclid's geometry, used for over twenty-five hundred years.

    Nobody really questioned it, because it worked. But it excluded some importantaspects of our world.

    In the 1950s, about the time Lorenz was messing around with his computer

    simulations of weather, a brilliant mathematician named Benoit Mandelbrot set

    his mind to whether Euclids geometry was correct. For first time in two and half

    millennia, someone looked at the world afresh. Mandelbrot realized that our

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    world is not composed of parallelograms, squares, and triangles. Nothing is quite

    as regular as that. The sun is a sphere only if viewed from a long distance; closer

    up, all sorts of bumpy things jut out of it. Everything in the natural world is this

    way, fractured and fractioned. So Mandelbrot coined the word fractal to

    describe the real geometry of our world.

    One of Mandelbrots foundation principles is self-similarity. To understand this,

    imagine two trees of different species standing side by side. Look at one tree and

    you will notice that a certain angle is repeated throughout the tree. The large

    branches come out at an angle, the smaller branches come out at the same

    angle; if you pick up a leaf, you will notice it also contains the same angle in the

    smaller veins emerging from the central vein. Look at the tree next to it and you

    can observe a completely different angle, repeated over and over again, down

    from the overall shape to the veins in the leaves. This is called iteration, rather

    than repetition, because forms are not repeated precisely, but with subtlevariations. Mandelbrot, dubbing this iteration of patterns at various scales self-

    similarity, found that the same pattern system appears in both organic and

    inorganic life: in glaciers as well as in trees, the striated forms of limestone as

    well as the spiraling petals of the rose.

    Because I had decided that the theme of Dancing with Chaos would be love, the

    most chaotic of emotions, I wrote the following poem to exemplify Mandelbrot's

    theories:

    The Fractal Geometry of Love

    Clouds are not spheres, mountains are not cones,

    coastlines

    are not circles and bark is not smooth, nor does lightning travel in a straight line.Benoit Mandelbrot

    1.

    Iteration

    There is a kind of hunger

    that satisfaction intensifies:

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    I touch you, I touch you again,

    and again, and again, and again,

    and with each touch I want

    to touch you more, I am caught

    in this feedback loop of touching and

    touching and touching and touching

    2. Self-Similarity

    The smallest gesture

    is the same as the largest:

    when you placed your handon mine in that caf, it was

    the same as when you place

    your hand on mine in bed

    and when you look into my eyes

    for a flashing instant, it is the same

    as when you hold them until

    we both burst into flame.

    3. Measurement

    The eye is not a sphere.

    My breasts are not cones.

    Your nipples are not circles.

    Your face is not smooth, and nothing between us

    travels in a straight line.

    If I were to attempt to

    outline your sweet body,

    I would be unable to do so:

    if I touch it closely enough, so

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    closely that I trace each cell,

    each cells boundary, each

    cells connection to other

    cells, I would be measuring

    your outline until the end

    of time. And that is what

    I am doing, lying here,

    next to you in the sun,

    trying to move beyond time,

    beginning my journey

    to the infinite, my hand

    slowly, slowly, slowly, tracing

    the vast outline of your body.Building on the work of Lorenz and Mandlebrot, chaos theory has yielded insights

    in fields as diverse as the stock market analysis and arrhythmia of the heart. It

    also offers us a new vocabulary for spiritual insight. For, to return to my own

    story, I had to face the major philosophical questions when I was widowed. The

    mind-body problem I had struggled with as an undergraduate was suddenly no

    longer an abstraction. And what was I to make of a lifemy ownthat had

    become so unruly, so chaotic? Chaos theory came to my rescue by teaching me

    that we do not live in some abstract perfection, but in a pulsing changeful world.

    Chaos offered me a vocabulary in a conceptual framework for exploring ways to

    interpret life that flies in the face of Platonic-Manichean-Augustinian dualism, that

    message from the past that kept me for so many years from truly embracing the

    flow of life. The spiritual message of chaos is so well-expressed by that ancient

    pagan sage, Ovid: that change is the only constant in our world, the one thing we

    can be certain of.

    I would like to end with two paired poems. The first is a poem, I composed from

    actual questions from physics tests. The second is my own answers to the

    questions.

    Examination

    ! 1.! Describe disruption of laminar flow.! 2.! Is uncertainty random?! 3.! Are unpredictable instabilities chaotic?

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    ! 4.! Distinguish between noise and chaos.! 5.! Is chance further reducible?! 6.! Are all attractors strange?! 7.! vDraw a basin of attraction.! 8.! Name a useful dissipative system.! 9.! Can a stable equilibrium last?! 10.! How turbulent is the heart?ANSWER SHEET

    ! 1.! In the wildernessbetween center and edge

    the vortex is born.

    ! 2.! Distinguish betweennot knowing

    and not knowing:

    one at the root of all,

    one an orderso immense we

    have to stand

    in another universe

    to glimpse its outline.

    ! 3.! Wait. Long. Enough.! 4.! A: Distantly I hear

    water dropping

    onto porcelain.

    B: Inside

    explosions

    are instants

    of silence.

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    ! 5.! The weaknessof the theory:

    the constancy

    of chance,

    Einstein said,

    which does not

    get us any closer.

    ! 6.! A boulder.Two gold pins.

    Three feathers.

    And then:an owl,

    flying,

    flying away,

    flying far away.

    ! 7.! My hands tracingthe hollow of your throat.

    ! 8.! Abandoned to the dance.! 9.! Instead, recurrence:

    never the same thing exactly,

    never exactly the same,

    but repeating the same thing,

    never exactly the same thing,

    but repeating, recurring, repeating.

    ! 10.! As any instrumentthat translates

    noise, chaos

    into

    music, order.