Mayhem

By Marilyn Moore 

It feels unsettled.  It feels uncertain.  It feels somewhat disconnected.  It lacks order, and sense, and focus.  And that’s just my brain…. Decisions are cumbersome.  Broccoli or green beans? Strawberries or black berries?  Salmon or tilapia?  Shop for clothes, because I haven’t for two years, or hold off, because I might be spending another winter in the house, meeting only on Zoom? Plan family gatherings, or not? 

Mayhem, a word from the 14th century with roots in Middle English, Anglo-French, and German.  Its definition includes “a state of rowdy disorder,” and synonyms include chaos, pandemonium, havoc, and commotion.  From comments from others, I think I’m not the only one who feels mayhem surrounds us.  “I just want this (whatever this is) to hold off long enough for me to visit our new grandchild, who will be born in December.”  “Please, please, please, let kids remain in school.”  “If we can just hold on until the first concert is performed.”  “I’m so scared, for my mom, who is ill, and frightened, and vulnerable to the Delta variant.”  “What if there’s another variant, and it’s worse?”  “My daughter lives in New Orleans, and their power is shut off.  I’m so afraid for her.”  “Our friends live near the fires in California, and they’ve been told to evacuate.”  “When will there be a vaccine approved for children younger than 12?”  

Mayhem… disorder, chaos, havoc.  A pandemic that rages far longer than we anticipated, or at least, far longer than we hoped.  And the sobering reality that with succeeding variants, there may be no end in sight.  Anger over public health measures, seen by some as too restrictive and by some as not restrictive enough – and that divide is getting deeper.  Fear that the health system won’t be able to care for all who need it, and anger that those who refuse to be vaccinated are the cause of the overfull hospitals, putting others at risk.  Uncertainty about whether the normal customs of life, including school, work, family gatherings, worship, concerts, travel, should be planned, or canceled, or put on the “wait and see” list.  

Mayhem… disorder, chaos, havoc.  The natural world is reminding us, again, that we are not in charge. Forest fires burn hotter, and longer.  Water from the Colorado River is restricted, for the first time ever.  Water beneath the earth in California is dropping, literally, from more and deeper wells, and the earth above it is dropping, also.  Hurricane Ida is aimed squarely at New Orleans, still not recovered from Hurricane Katrina, 16 years ago.  For the first time, rain fell on the glacier in Greenland, hastening the already speeded-up melting.

Mayhem… disorder, chaos, havoc.  We learn again, as a nation, that we cannot force a democracy on a country that does not choose it. We watch, in wonder and appreciation, the skilled members of the armed services that evacuate Americans from Afghanistan, and in frustration that we can’t evacuate every Afghani who also wants to leave.  It’s not the first time we’ve been in such a situation (some of us remember Vietnam in 1975), but it’s the first time we’ve watched it play out on cable news 24/7.  My stomach clenches at the sights…and at what I imagine that we aren’t seeing. 

Mayhem…. it’s real.  For some, it is experienced as a time of opportunity, a time awaiting a new birth.  For others, it’s painful, the uncertainty almost debilitating, fearing that it’s a time of death.  My own tendency is to look for ways to manage, to control, to make it better.  I remember the advice of mental health professionals who say that in uncertain times, ground yourself by paying attention to that which is right around you, that which you can see, hear, taste, touch, smell.  I see the painting that looks like the land where I grew up.  I hear the remembered laughter of a gathering of friends this evening.  I smell and taste the wonder of a freshly cut peach.  I feel the softness of a baby blanket I’ve just knitted.  Those are grounding – they are real, they remind me of people and places and activities I love.  They may settle my mind enough that I can choose strawberries, and green beans, and salmon, and even decide to shop for some new clothes. 

But the bigger things… the most wonderful freshly cut peach in the world doesn’t get me through pandemic variant uncertainties, nor hurricanes and forest fires, nor US foreign policy questions.  Those are way beyond one person, any one person, and so overwhelming they seem to be way beyond our collective action…or perhaps it’s just beyond our collective will.  And then, I remember one of the lessons from the chaos sciences, that in times of chaos, there’s always a pattern, if we are but wise enough to step back and look with care, and do so in a team, because the more perspectives, the better.  Again, way beyond me….so I think of what I might do individually.  I can’t stop, or directly address, the hurricane damage in Haiti and New Orleans, nor the political damage in Afghanistan, but I can send a check to relief efforts in those places.  I can’t fight the fires in the western US nor turn the rain in Greenland to snow, but I can take steps to reduce my own carbon footprint.  And taking some action, any action, will perhaps make it easier to take the next action, including political action that works toward constructive large-scale change to make planet Earth a healthier place for all God’s children.  

Some blogs close easily with “the end.” This is not one of them.  This is clearly “to be continued….”  Because that’s what happening right now with mayhem – it’s not going away.  

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