Butterfly Effect

Butterfly Effect (noun)

a property of chaotic systems (such as the atmosphere) by which small changes in initial conditions can lead to large-scale and unpredictable variation in the future state of the system
— Merriam-Webster Dictionary
The theory that even the smallest step one takes in his/her life can change the course of said life immensely. The name of this theory came to be when a Chaos Theory stated: "It has been said that something as small as the flutter of a butterfly's wing can ultimately cause a typhoon halfway around the world."
— Urban Dictionary

For several years, I've been experiencing a kind of time travel. Easily, this might be attributed to the many time zones visited, or with age, a loss of memory for what day of the week it is. But, I think it's bigger than that. In my entire life, running consistently on time is something someone else does. I bend "late."

As a high school student, I'd be lucky to catch the last ten minutes of whatever class appeared first on my daily agenda. Luckily, those classes rotated every day, so the habit spread across my entire academic schedule, instead of regularly missing a single class.

In modern times, I have one client who routinely vows to play the lottery when our calls begin on time. I know, for some, this pattern is a crazy-maker. Conversely, I've learned not only to live with it, but to embrace it.

Still, my loose relationship with time beckoned further investigation. So, a couple of years ago, when reviewing the Omega catalog, I noticed Brian and Carole Weiss were offering a Past Life Regression Training, I attempted to sign up. No luck - sold out! (Though I did participate in the training last year, and it was a powerful experience.) I noticed, though, immediately following the training, Weiss offered an experiential regression weekend. While regressing was not new to me, my time bending dynamic called me to participate.

I invited my husband, Mark, to share the adventure. Friday evening, Weiss offered a partner exercise; Mark and I chose each other. Saturday, another partner interaction arose. While we'd planned to work together again, at the last moment, I said, "I think we should do this separately." I had no rhyme or reason for this. In fact, introvert that I am, this behavior surprised both of us.

Mark turned to the fellow next to him, while I scanned the room, noticing that everyone else seemed to have a partner. Then, this one man stood up, on the opposite side of the room. We spied one another, and he trekked across to partner with me. It turned out, Roger's wife ditched him, exactly as I'd abandoned Mark - last minute, and unexpectedly. In his case, a neighboring woman turned to look his wife, Laura, directly in the eyes and emphatically stated, "I want to work with you!"

Following the afternoon session and dinner, Mark and I found our way to the cafe. On that lovely July evening, we secured an outdoor table with a welcome breeze, bought a cookie to share, and discussed a bit about the day. Moments later, Roger and Laura approached the cafe in search of ice cream. Again, completely out of character, I invited them to sit with us.

It turned out, we all had a variety of things in common. This lovely connection continued for the remainder of the workshop. At the close, we somehow missed saying goodbye. Mark and I hadn't realized we had the option to lunch at Omega, so we ate in town, while others in our group shared a final meal. This left me unsettled. I really liked these two people, and I didn't like the lack of closure.

In a manner, reminiscent of my much younger days, when I would track down whatever or whomever I wished to pursue, I stalked them! I gathered the bit of information I had, and found Roger's work email. I winged out a message, hoping I didn't seem too wackadoodle-doo for him to reply. Brave soul that he is, he sent a note back, including Laura on the thread.

Since that time, we've enjoyed a couple of meals together. The second one set something in motion for me. Laura mentioned a band they happened upon, Lake Street Dive, and she followed it up with a link to one of their performances. The lead singer's voice hooked me immediately! I began seeking out videos of their music, to become better acquainted with their offerings. (Some of this you may have read in a different context previously.)

Lake Street Dive performs "Rich Girl" (by Hall & Oates)

Last May, the band issued a new CD, and scheduled the release party at a performance venue in Harvard Square. I attempted to score a ticket, to no avail - sold out in minutes. I sought out other local performances, and found one in western Massachusetts. Again, no luck.

Ultimately, I used the band as an excuse to visit New Mexico. Months before, I'd felt a pull to visit Santa Fe. I'd never been before, and I believed something was in store for me there. Several things occurred in Santa Fe:

I got incredibly sick - akin to altitude sickness, but not exactly.
Once the sickness passed through, I learned a couple of important practices to support my ever-shifting energy. These have sustained my well-being over the past 14 months.
I fell in love with a wind sculpture, and made it my own.
I birthed the notion of the monthly Healing Hours.

At the end of my retreat, I drove back to Albuquerque, fell a little more in love with Lake Street Dive, and flew home the next day.

Fast forward to September. After much deliberation, I finally pulled the trigger and booked myself space for a personal writing retreat in Costa Rica. There's a book that's been cooking in my being, for which an outline emerged, when I'd been in Martinique. As I boarded the flight to CR, I had only those original notes. When I attempted to review them at home, to get the project started, my mind melted. I possessed no capacity for digging in. It all just seemed too big!

While afraid that the money and time spent on retreat would create a voice of demanding pressure, leaving me with no words crafted, I leaned into a deeper knowing. I trusted that whatever I was meant to get out of this time, is exactly what I'd get. Many, many words were written - hooray! And, in ways I couldn't anticipate, my love and connection to Costa Rica renewed and expanded.

Once home, I fully anticipated I'd continue with the writing journey. Um...yeah, that didn't happen. Again, I experienced a lack of creative capacity. Some editing was doable, but developing new concepts, and elaborating on those already offered...nothin'. Must I always travel to find this depth of perception? The potential expense daunted me, resulting in an idea. Maybe I could borrow a house.

Perhaps someone would allow me to take up temporary residence at a home not currently in use. I do have a couple of friends with more than one property, so maybe. Yet, the pull to ask sat on the back burner. What might I be waiting for? No idea!

Time passes, mid-February arrives. I receive an email from a dear friend in Iowa City. He says, "Lake Street Dive is coming to IC again, you should come see them here. Too bad we'll be in Seattle then." I'm guessing you can see the writing on the wall, pun fully intended.

Last month, I retreated to Iowa City. While my friends traveled, they gifted me their home as writing space. And, in the beauty of their newly renovated kitchen and fabulous screened porch, new words and concepts poured through my fingers, progressing the project. My adventure capped off with Ed and Lisa returning from Seattle, allowing us several days for visiting and playing together.

I've outlined about a billion small steps leading to this point, beginning with my loose relationship with time. If I hadn't followed that curiosity to the Weiss event, I can't imagine circumstances that would have brought Laura and Lake Street Dive into my life. I probably would not have visited Santa Fe and deepened my connection to myself, as that trip afforded me, and the art that has inspired me again and again would be situated on someone else's lawn. I don't know if healing hours would exist. I do know that my friend Ed would not have suggested I come out, at a perfect time for me to manifest my desire for a bigger space within, encouraging prose to emerge.

The May newsletter focused on things that are not my business. Originally, the focal point of that piece was the butterfly effect, and while I mentioned it there, I believe this long and winding example demonstrates the far reaching implications of following that one next step, as each reveals itself.

What I have also learned, is that I cannot do it wrong. The steps I've taken represent the calls I heard and heeded. I can only imagine how many other opportunities I might have waved away. I trust that, no matter the path, I will grow and learn in ways I can't yet see or imagine...just one step at a time. And, lest there be any confusion, I don't determine the timeline. Things don't move faster, simply because I wish it to be so. I believe I'm empowered to pause, and occasionally set a slower pace. I experience gentle lessons and gritty ones, and I believe each comes to me as I am willing and ready...whether I know I am ready and willing or not!

I play Mah Jongg with a few friends every month. At a recent gathering, I heard all three of them say, "If I could go back and do my 20's over, especially if I could possess the knowledge and wisdom I do now, I'd do it!" As I listened, I thought, "Not me!" Those times were so hard, I'd never want to go through it again, even with my current base of knowing.

A few weeks later, I woke up, and realized how many fun, crazy, absurd, dangerous, and stupid things I wouldn't do, if I re-entered my 20's with the wisdom I've acquired. How much of life's journey - the cheerful and the devastating - I might miss. Because of the butterfly effect, every one of those early-life choices got me to where I am now. I don't mean that I wouldn't wish for things to be easier then, and even more spectacular now, and still, I am so grateful to that young, crazy woman who took different kinds of risks, and suffered great losses and embarrassments. She helped to prepare me for the life I'm living. She took some heavy hits in the tough lessons department, and her decisions have rippled through beyond my wildest imaginings.

Perhaps, if there is a part of you plagued by regret for choices made once upon a time, you might find room in your heart for both self-forgiveness and gratitude for the person you were then. I know there's always more to learn. Sometimes it's incredibly hard to just keep trudging along, and yet, if you invite that young part of yourself to come along, instead of being ostracized for what (s)he didn't know, and what (s)he weathered to get you here, maybe there could be a bit more bounce in your step, as you approach the next turn in your path.

With love,

Joanne Lutz

Ugly Duckling

Project Gracie