The funny thing about order is that something so predictable can be dizzying.
Think about it: we’re taught all our lives that if we follow the steps and do them in a certain order, more often than not we’ll get to where we’re going.
But we don’t always get there, even though we followed the rules. Our heads spin with confusion.
We learn that if you order something online, in a restaurant or through a catalog, it generally shows up without too much of a wait.
But when it doesn’t, our whole world is upside down.
We expect order, and in a way we crave it. When we don’t have it, it can leave us in a perpetually wandering state.
And yet we never want to be told what to do, but when we’re lacking even the guardrails and any obvious way to go about progressing, we’re lost.
Some people who like to muddy a process with red tape hide behind the word order, but I think we all know their true intentions; the two are not the same.
Sometimes order is cast aside by a crowd that won’t stand for something anymore, and we find that doing away with order can often be the most direct path to change.
Tonight, while I’m thankful for order, I’m also thankful for being able to choose my way over that of the masses, to say to hell with it instead of — yes, I’m happy to stand in line, and to simply do while knowing I can ask forgiveness later. I’m not condoning recklessness, I’m simply encouraging action. There’s a time and a place for order, and there’s a time and a place to give it a time out.