If I had done this rather than that… If I had moved there instead of here… If I had partnered with that one in place of this one… If I had taken that job in lieu of the other one… What if I had chosen differently? Who would I be today?
Many years ago I remember thinking it might be fun to play a party game called, “If.” It was intended as an icebreaker or getting-to-know-you kind of game for adults. I think the gist was to ask the group open-ended questions, like, “If, blank, then, blank…” encouraging creative, fun answers.
I’ve been pondering the “butterfly effect.” Put in simple terms, the “butterfly effect,” coined by meteorologist, Edward Lorenz in 1972, explains that something seemingly as minor as a butterfly fluttering its wings in Brazil, can inexplicably cause or prevent something large-scale like a tornado in Texas.
I’m not a hard scientist nor particularly sciency-minded, so I apply the “butterfly effect,” from science’s chaos theory to social psychology, where a minor action like a choice made long ago theoretically altered the personal or social consequences we live with today. I’m reminded by the iconic line often uttered by the Steve Urkel character in the early 90s television show, Family Matters, “did I do that?”
Then, of course, since I also float toward Christian spirituality in all things, I thought of how much of today’s effects are designed by God. Is God the ultimate Architect of one’s destiny?
I’ve not always been comfortable with the “let go and let God” philosophy. I like a certain amount of control. I prefer to think that I’ve made some pretty wise life decisions gleaned from having a sound mind and sharp enough intellect to get by without destroying my own life or that of others in my vicinity.
I’m cool with God deciding my overall destiny since it’s my belief that I also have free will in the bulk of the little stuff along the way. God, in His almightiness, allows us to live the “butterfly effect.”
The Bible says we have free will, which sometimes acts to our detriment and perhaps we wish He’d take the wheel, as some vague country song lyric running around in my head, suggests. But most of the time the “butterfly effect,” has worked out okay for me.
I’ve been contentedly married for nearly forty-six years to a man who I’m certain God put in front of me at a certain bank teller window in 1979. I gave birth via c-section to a baby girl in 1990. It wasn’t according to my home-birth plan, but we got the girl we never dreamed of but the one beyond our dreams.
We have lived in parts south and west in the United States. It wasn’t Africa or Germany which were both on the table. However, we were called to specific places filled with people whom we needed to meet and mix with, learn from and teach.
Before the first century AD, Roman Stoic philosopher, Seneca said, “Fate leads the willing and drags along the reluctant.” I’m reminded by the Doris Day 1956 song, “Que Sera, Sera,” whatever will be, will be, which displays a similar philosophy about fate, or destiny. Also, the familiar, “it is what it is,” is a thoroughly modern understanding of Seneca.
I don’t always think life is about cause and effect. I’m more of a correlation kind of girl. Having been trained in social science, I could relate to correlational outcomes rather than the rare but occasional absolute cause and effect proven by multiple experiments.
It’s my educated opinion that tons of stuff in life are correlated or related, but whether one thing has definitively caused the other is questionable, to me. I’m aware in many evangelical Christian communities, the “sow and reap” example is rife with misinterpretation and judgment.
It is my experience lived, that you rarely sow and reap directly. And, most evangelicals will admit that sometimes, you reap a much bigger harvest from a seed sown, than you expected. Weeds, mixed into the soil don’t always explain the wonky harvest you must gather when the time comes for picking the fruit.
Or, your harvest is continually weak even after sowing batches and batches of seeds, watering, fertilizing, facing the sun, and expecting something resembling the seeds sown, from your effort. Is this fate? Or, is it a wait and see moment?
So, back to butterflies. These critters are pretty close to being one of the more magical of nature’s progeny. They start out as lowly caterpillars and transform into something of fleeting beauty that inspire us all.
I think it’s funny, and so utterly human that Lorenz, the “butterfly effect” meteorologist, didn’t use the butterfly metaphor in 1961 when he was first formulating his theory. He used a seagull but was convinced by Philip Merilees to switch his example to the more poetic or romantic butterfly instead.
Interestingly, all kinds of the smallest of things effecting massive changes have been used to explain the “butterfly effect.” Removing a single grain of sand may actually change the immeasurable whole of the ocean bed; a single electron and an avalanche; an altered future from treading on a butterfly in the past; the flap of a housefly’s wings effects atmospheric winds around the world, etc.
What is your “butterfly effect?” I will always rely on the Edward Hale quote, “I am only one, but still I am one. I cannot do everything, but still I can do something; and because I cannot do everything, I will not refuse to do the something that I can do.”
Edward Hale, a nineteenth century American author, minister, and social reformer, also served as Chaplain in the United States Senate from 1903-1909. Poignantly, Hale wrote a, now classic work of fiction, called “The Man Without a Country.” Americans should listen up. Dying in exile after committing treason, the main character in Hale’s book, learned too late, the value of the country he denounced.
I’ve visited a few other countries and dream of visiting some more. But, my conclusion is, they all have positive and negative aspects and are a joy to visit. Home, is, however, home, and home is good.
Wouldn’t it be cool to start a homeland-positive, non-political “butterfly effect,” here in America, and see where that takes us. It couldn’t hurt. I’m reminded of the 1848 Shaker hymn, Simple Gifts, where freedom comes with a humble, simple life of gratitude and finding ourselves in a “place just right.”