Fractals

Fractals. Fractals are ever-repeating patterns, infinitely complex and self-similar across different scales. They are created by repeating a simple process over and over in an unending feedback loop. Nature is full of fractals. Ferns. Cauliflowers. Galaxies. While I have known about fractal patterns for years, I have never reflected on them in terms of my own life.

Let me reference some words from the author of Emergent Strategies. These words were a wakeup call to me.

“In a fractal conception, I am a cell-sized unit of the human organism, and I have to use my life to leverage a shift in the system by HOW I AM as much as by the things I do. This means actually being in my life, and it means bringing my values into my daily decision making. Each day should be lived on purpose.” Adrienne Maree Brown, Emergent Strategies

If I am part of the human organism, not separate, then my choices impact the whole system. Choices. Thoughts. Votes. Where I choose to engage and where I sit back and observe. It all matters. This is part of why I am choosing to write this morning instead of reveling in a lazy, Sunday start. Oh, there's nothing wrong with a good late morning lie-in and there are times I will choose to do just that, but today I feel a sense of urgency and connection. I want to use my voice. I am not creative if I do not choose to create.

Last weekend, I took a long hike with friends . . . 20 miles on the beautiful, Sonoma coast. I felt like the earth reclaimed me, step by step. We were in deep partnership, Mother Earth and I. I have felt isolated during these months of COVID shelter-in-place, but last weekend I remembered or was gifted with the knowledge that it is impossible to be separate. We are deeply connected. Sometimes it takes a very long walk to wake up to what we already know.

20 miles. Trails of grass, sand, gravel, and dirt beneath my feet. 20 miles. Did I manage to pound myself, step by step, into another way of being? Did I remember my hunter gatherer self from long ago? I was of the land and of the land, and the land was of me.There was no separation. Being awake and alive on the earth was enough.

And it was.

And it is.

What is it that takes you home? Is it the sound of a tea kettle as it sings out the promise of boiling water? Is it the way the dog wags her tail when she sees the leash come down off the hook in the hall closet? Is it the gurgle of a baby’s toothless laugh? Is it the sound of the first rain on the roof after a long, dry California summer? What is it that takes you home?

We can live lives that are insulated and isolated, or once and a while, we can take a very long walk, a walk so long that it hurts. We can re-earth ourselves. We can watch sunsets with intensity and marvel at the stars in the milky way. We can search for whales on a choppy sea. We can comb the sand for treasure. We can re-earth, again and again. We can let the earth take us home.

And when we do this, wonder of wonders, we remember that we, too, are fractals, reflections of the whole. We are not separate. Our choices matter.