Scientists talk about something called the "chaos theory." I certainly don't know enough about physics or mathematics or voodoo to understand chaos theory. And sometimes I think scientists who talk about it are so far outside the box that the box has collapsed upon itself and disappeared into a black hole.
Chaos theory has something to do with such things as the fact Mark Eubank can't accurately measure every factor going into his weather forecast. That's why he sometimes gets it wrong. For example, Mark may know within a few yards where the jet stream should be tomorrow, but a shift of even an inch as the jet stream passes over Hawaii compounds into miles by the time it reaches Utah. And according to chaos theory, when I cut down a tree, the falling tree has a minuscule effect on many things, including the jet stream. A favorite maxim of the chaotic thinkers is that a butterfly flapping its wings in Brazil exerts some kind of minor, minuscule, infinitesimal nano-effect on weather patterns in Mongolia.
As I said, I don't pretend to understand these complicated scientific theories. But I do have a "chaos theory" about life: Chaos is the normal state of affairs, and any time you feel things are going as planned, someone, somewhere is dropping a tree which will end up disturbing the jet stream of life. Conversely, everything each of us does shifts the jet stream for someone else — perhaps miles or even generations away.
Every parent has heard a grown child say: "When I was 5 years old, you scolded me for something I didn't do." The parent can't recall the incident, but the child has never forgotten . . . or forgiven. Conversely, most parents remember vividly when an angry teenage child said: "You don't get it, do you! You don't have a clue about my life!"
And a mighty oak came crashing down on the parent's self-confidence. Chaos. It's all around us. Some try to deal with it by filling in every five-minute segment of their daily planners. But that isn't living; it's robotics.
So what if life doesn't go the way you planned it? What if someone drops a tree across your path? Make kindling. Or turn in another direction. Or sit down and think about why you were going that direction in the first place. Under no circumstance should you curse the tree or the ax wielder. That does no more good than cursing that butterfly in Brazil for bad weather.
Deep down in the recesses of the scientific mind is the belief that if we knew every variable affecting every phenomenon, we would understand why the phenomenon occurs . . . and be able to predict it. But neither the human brain nor the most powerful computer can process all that data, and so we are destined to live with a considerable amount of chaos.
In fact, when life gets to be too comfortable, you can be sure something is wrong. Perhaps you aren't living; you're only existing, passing through, getting by, or, in the words of the playwright, "Waiting for Godot."
I had a friend once who had been dead for years. He woke up every morning only to save the cost of a funeral. What's the point?
You wouldn't enjoy a football game if you knew the exact outcome. The whole idea is to enjoy the chaos on the field without knowing how it will end. The coach says if his players did exactly what he told them to do, they would win. But he's dreaming. Because that's what the other coach is telling his team, too. If there were no mistakes on either side, the game would be boring. The chaos gets your adrenaline pumping and your heart racing and your mind reacting.
Life is the same way. If your children did exactly what you told them to do, there would be no suspense, no fun, no meaning. If your spouse did exactly what you wanted him or her to do, neither of you would learn or grow or progress.
Every life needs a few distant butterflies flapping their wings. Chaos is a critical element of living. With it, life is an adventure. Without it, life has no meaning.
G. Donald Gale is president of Words, Words, Words, Inc. He was formerly editorial director at KSL. He earned a Ph.D. at the University of Utah and was awarded an honorary doctorate by Southern Utah University. E-mail: dongale@words3.com