Even good change is hard and complicated, with highs and lows making it feel chaotic. Read about a framework for understanding and facilitating nonlinear change.
When I started Working On Calm, I knew I needed a change. My anxiety was uncontrollable, I felt distracted, and I worried I was missing out on life’s momentary treasures. That’s when I created my Commitment to Calm and embarked on the process of (what I hoped would be) true change. Five months in, there have been both changes and setbacks, ups and downs. As such, I looked for a framework to understand the process. Chaos theory offers compelling insights which explain why change is nonlinear.
The highs of change
On my birthday I was about three months into my Commitment to Calm. My anxiety was a stark contrast to where it was in January. At the beginning of the year, I had high-level stress every time I left the house, was alone, or thought about anything significant. So, yeah, I was anxious all the time. That’s when I started practicing meditation, yoga, gratitude, and mindfulness. I’d like to think it was all this work on calm that made me feel better, but I’m sure therapy and the simple passage of time also had an effect.
Regardless, I was feeling like a different person by the beginning of April. I went on a solo walk that morning and practiced being present in the moment. It was part walking meditation, part awe walk, part gratitude walk. I took time to focus on my breath, slowing my steps. I felt the coordinated movements of body parts with each movement. When my mind wandered, I gently nudged myself back to my focus.
When I reached my limit for the walking meditation, I turned my attention to the nature around me. Using my senses, I marveled at the sights and sounds of the quacking ducks, honking geese, and chirping birds. The scent of spring citrus blossoms did not go unnoticed. I felt thankful for my life and connected to nature.
I walked out onto someone’s little boat dock and watched the road at the end of the lake. Cars passed by and I remembered the headspace analogy for dismissing thoughts: let them pass like a car on a street. I took another break sitting on a huge tree stump, snapping this picture. I watched the cyclists, joggers, and walkers exercising on the path across the lake. They served as another, perhaps better, analogy for thoughts coming and going.
As I sat there, I took time to practice gratitude, silently listing all the things worth celebrating that day. Some were big, some were small, but my list was long. Eventually I headed home after an amazing walk. I felt grounded, connected, calm. My contentment was oozing out my pores, and I was mindful enough to appreciate it.
My cup runneth over in that moment. I savored it. For a sliver of time, I was the perfect student of mindfulness. I had incorporated lessons and practices from the previous months’ work. The articles, books, talks, therapy sessions had coalesced. I was calm AF.
I had a similar moment this past weekend. Andrew was building a structure for my new garden. I went outside to check the progress, the always-opinionated supervisor. Busy with his own project, he couldn’t help the boys who were pestering him for assistance. They were working on build-it-yourself wooden truck kits they picked up during a trip to Home Depot. This “kid-friendly” task required a hammer and nails. Mom to the rescue.
I helped the boys nail together the wooden trucks while Andrew worked on his project. I lost myself in the task, which brought a bit of a challenge but mostly a sense of accomplishment. I so rarely make something with my hands these days. Music was playing in the background; the sun was bright but not hot. I was wearing an athletic top and felt the breeze tickle my shoulder blades as I sat cross-legged and barefoot in the grass, hammering pieces of wood together. I noticed the oceanic sound of the wind rustling the palm fronds overhead. This welcome sound is the most redeeming aspect of having 13 palm trees to care for.
I became aware of the perfectness of the moment: the weather, sounds, sensations. I was able to savor the experience, just as I had done on the lake walk. This is what I’ve been working for, why I started Working On Calm. In this brief moment, I showed up, bore witness, and had heightened awareness. All my senses were on alert, and I was present. It was like a psychedelic experience without tripping. Working on calm? Nailed it.
Both my birthday walk and experience in the backyard where amazing culminations of months of work on mindfulness. There were many steps in between and successful improvements. Yet, these two moments reflected true change. If you were able to chart my well-being over the last five months, these data points would be the pinnacles of my progress. They reflect all my positive momentum.
The lows of change
Although I’ve made a ton of progress, not all moments have been blissful. Sometimes I felt worse than when I started. On days I didn’t practice mindfulness or fulfill any of my goals, I felt like a failure or a fraud. Sometimes stress creeped back in or perfectionism got the best of me. When I was cranky, the kids didn’t hesitate to remind me – you know that thing you’re working on? Mindfulness or meditation? Yeah, you need to work on that right now. You’re not there. And they were right, because that’s the nature of change. There are gains and there are losses.
I had a low moment earlier this week. After dinner, the boys were putting away their laundry. They do this every Monday, and yet, without fail, they complain. Every. Monday. Some are bigger complainers than others. (You know who you are!) Regardless of the kid, there’s plenty of protesting, complaining, passive aggressive stomping, and eye rolling going around. It’s a lot of fun.
I was already a little cranky, probably from all the activity and time in the sun. I was tired, had just cleaned up the dinner mess, and had the looming bedtime insanity staring me down. Plus, Andrew was out to dinner with a colleague, looking professional (in fitted clothes!), drinking a martini, eating sushi, and having adult conversation.
I, on the other hand, was drenched from doing the dishes and exhausted from conversations of Fortnite and internet memes. I was looking sloppy with my frizzy hair pulled back and in clothes I wouldn’t wear out of the house. In Victor’s room, I struggled with a heavy closet door in my hands. I was attempting to jam it back onto the track after finding the door hanging crooked and impossible to maneuver. Of course, no one took responsibility. And that’s when Rocco came to the door to loudly protest something I did or said. I don’t even remember what it was.
Well, forget all the work on calm. My progress was shoved into the dark, dusty corner of my mind. There was no pause before reacting, no non-identification with the thoughts, no conscious choice of words. Fuck mindfulness. I snapped. I yelled right back. Again, I don’t remember what was said. Something along the lines of, “I don’t want to do this every time you have a chore to do!” Adding a damn-it! silently in my mind. The stress trumped the calm.
I’m convinced this is one of the biggest stressors of parenting, constantly repeating yourself. I give the same instructions every day, all day. We negotiate the same struggles multiple times a week. Parenting is a weird version of Groundhog’s Day. Every day offers the same struggles until eventually you get something right or someone gives up. It can really wear a person down.
So, there I found myself raising my voice, physically fighting with a closet door, and anything but calm. Rocco yelled right back, something along the lines of what a great parent I was, and stomped off. I don’t think he’ll be giving me a five-star review anytime soon. Victor instantly clung to my thigh, in an attempt to shield me from Rocco’s insult or my own anger, I don’t know which. That’s when Ike came sheepishly around the corner. While looking down, attaching his shorts to the clips of a hanger, he tentatively suggested, “maybe you should meditate mom.” Ugh. Parenting fail.
There have been similar moments in the last five months where I lost my shit and appeared to have not made any progress. These moments are dark lows on my path of progress, sharply contrasted by the perfect moments I described earlier. Because, again, that’s how change works. You get better, you get worse, you get even better. The hope is for a general trend in the right direction.
In general, this change hasn’t been linear and it got me thinking. How can I make sense of this? I searched “nonlinear change” in google scholar and read a headline about chaos theory. Instantly transported back to my Organizational Theory course in grad school, I remembered the small, white, dense textbook for the class.[1] As soon as I could, I forgot about chaos theory. And now, an abstract course I left behind long ago, suddenly seems relevant. I’m going to nerd out a bit here, but stick with me. I think this will offer a useful way for thinking about how we change.
Nonlinear change in complex systems
To better understand the bumpy road of change, let’s look at how complex systems change. Complex systems include things like ecological systems, industries, and organizations. They are dynamic and non-linear, consisting of multiple interacting systems that are at the same time ordered and chaotic. Insights from chaos and complexity theories reveal that complex systems change as patterns evolve. It may look messy, but there’s always pattern.
When dealing with these complex systems, there is quite a bit of unpredictability. One disturbance reverberates throughout the entire system, like concentric circles resulting from a pebble tossed in water. Think of the butterfly effect – the idea that a butterfly flapping its tiny wings in one location can affect something tremendous like a tornado in another location. When researchers look to nature to help explain how change occurs, complex interdependencies always exist with some sense of order. Despite the complexity and unpredictability of the system, nature shows us that order always emerges from chaos. This is chaos theory.
What does this teach us about change? This is a little esoteric but stick with me! Chaos and complexity theories teach us to take a holistic approach to change. In these systems, linear change is impossible because a small change here can have a big effect over there. Instead, it’s all about looking at patterns of behavior. Order always emerges from chaos as patterns of behavior change.
Chaos theorists use the term attractor to define a stimulant or input that influences order, draws attention, or motivates behavior. One attractor may dominate until a new attractor comes along. Transformation happens when an attractor disrupts the system enough, pushing it towards the edge of chaos. At this point, the system reaches a metaphorical fork in the road.
If the new attractor has a strong enough pull, a new order will emerge. If the old attractor proves stronger, the system although disrupted, will return to a state similar to which it started. These attractors and forks in the road are always there, lying in wait, as potential change influences in a complex nonlinear system. They are the potential for change.
Change at the individual level
At this point, you may be wondering what does this obscure theory have to do with me? I’m so glad you asked! We can use this framework to better understand what happens when we try to create lasting change. Like natural ecosystems and organizations, I would argue individuals are complex systems. We have complicated thoughts, behaviors, and relationships. We operate within multiple environments and fulfill competing roles. We’re unpredictable. However, we are also quite predictable. We have habits, personalities, and patterns. We are at the same time chaotic and ordered, just like complex systems.
Applying chaos theory to us as individuals, imagine we start at point “A,” our status quo. If something comes along to disrupt our status quo, chaos may ensue for a while. If the disruption or effort is weak, we’ll settle back into our old ways, resuming the life of point “A.” If, however, the disruption is strong enough, it forces us into chaos and eventually an entirely new pattern, or point “B,” will be established. This is nonlinear and can feel messy, unpredictable, and bumpy as we figure a new pattern out. There are ups, downs, and loops.
For example, at the end of last year I was operating at my typical baseline. This was my starting point “A.” I engaged in some healthy activities and flirted with the idea of mindfulness activities. I knew something about mindfulness was attractive but had tried unsuccessfully to make changes previously. Nothing really stuck. Point “A” was just too strong of an attractor. Stronger forces were locking me into my pattern of behavior.
That’s when my system experienced a significant disruption. My stress levels were too high for too long (thank you COVID and homeschooling), I was diagnosed with POTS (a randomly elevated heartrate), and my anxiety skyrocketed. All this sent me into a spiral. Everything went out of whack; my body and mind were chaotic and unpredictable. I needed something to change.
Enter my Commitment to Calm and mindfulness practices as the new attractor. For whatever reason, perhaps my desperation to ease the anxiety or more time with the kids going back to school, the need for change felt much stronger this time. There’s been a shift from point “A” to point “B.” A new pattern is emerging, but not everything has solidified yet. It takes time. There is forward movement, backward movement, and lateral movement occurring simultaneously as this shift occurs.
This helps to explain why I’ve had some great advancements (like in the backyard this weekend) and some setbacks (yelling while juggling a closet door). Perhaps where I’m at right now will be my new point “B” anyway. I can’t be perfect (don’t tell my husband). But chaos theory helps me to see the big picture of what is happening. The significance lies in looking at the overall patterns, not the single incidents.
Facilitating nonlinear change
Chaos theory explains how changes occur within complex systems, and researchers use it to better understand change within organizations. If we extrapolate to the individual level, we can learn a few things about changing ourselves as well. Here are a few applications from chaos theory to facilitate your own nonlinear change.
Consider your attractor patterns.
There are always multiple forces at work which influence our thoughts and behaviors. What forces reinforce your current status quo? This can include responsibilities, routines, habits, and thought patterns. How might they cause you to resist change?
Consider how change may occur, especially small changes.
Remember the disruption has to be strong/attractive enough to move your system from point “A” to point “B.” What changes need to take place in order for you to get to point “B”? This may seem overwhelming if you don’t consider how impactful small changes can be. Don’t forget this important lesson from The Happiness Advantage: making small changes is an evidence-based way to make change successful. Just like the tiny flap of butterfly wings, small changes can create big outcomes.
Since changing at the individual level can be complex, small changes can result in large transformations. At first blush, incremental change is opposite of transformational change. In the former, change consists of baby steps and minor changes. In the latter, change consist of quantum leaps through large changes. It seems like they can’t happen at the same time, but they do. Recognizing life’s paradoxes, or duality, can be helpful here. In complex systems, small changes can and do result in large transformations, so start small.
In regards to my progress, small changes made it easier for me to progress. When I first started, I simply promised myself I would spend ten minutes a day on self-care. It was small enough that I could do it successfully and yet just enough to make me want more. As I’ve experimented more with meditation, yoga, gratitude, and mindfulness I’m finding what works for me. Now, it’s common for me to spend 20-30 minutes meditating. This is a big shift. I’m also catching myself engaging in these habits without consciously thinking about it. There are simultaneously small and large changes happening.
Allow for some unpredictability
Although order always emerges, it is unpredictable and difficult to plan. Instead, you must learn to accept the uncertainty, live through temporary chaos, and allow things to unfold naturally. This doesn’t come easily to someone like me. I want everything planned, a checklist, and a date on the calendar when this project will be all tied up with a pretty bow. I can tell you five months in, that ain’t gonna happen. The messiness of this change effort could be frustrating, overwhelming, or even derail my efforts without the right mindset. I often remind myself to let go of control and just do the work. Eventually point “B” will emerge, but it’s a process I can’t predict or completely control.
Create contexts for change
One way to manage change in complex systems is by creating new contexts for that change to emerge. Think of this as creating new thoughts, behaviors, and routines that support your change effort. Creating conditions in which the new context can emerge is key. This happens with new understandings and new actions. New understandings change mindset, whereas new actions provide a means to make it happen.
For me, this involves all the learning I’ve engaged in since starting my Commitment. Every time I listen to a talk, attend a virtual presentation, or read a relevant book I’m moving myself from point “A” to point “B.” I’m creating new understandings. Similarly, each time I have a successful meditation experience, benefit from a gratitude practice, feel better from a yoga session, or celebrate a mindful moment, I am reinforcing the change effort with new actions. Creating new contexts makes the change more desirable. Instead of pushing myself to change, I am pulling myself toward the change. I’m no longer doing it because I think I should, but because I want to. It’s a carrot instead of a stick.
Expect change to be nonlinear
Complex systems simply don’t follow a linear path for change. We shouldn’t expect anything different for our own change efforts. There will be chaos, uncertainty, and unpredictability. We will be pushed to point “B,” pulled back to point “A,” take baby steps, fall backwards, make breakthroughs, and sometimes maintain a holding pattern. In this regard, change happens as ups, downs, and loops, but not straight lines.
This really helps me understand how in one week I can go from a high to a low. Neither of these moments represent the whole picture. They are part of a much larger pattern of behavior. I can’t over-identify with either experience; I haven’t gotten it completely right or completely failed. Instead, I’m just somewhere in the messy trajectory. Overall, I’m moving in the right direction.
The goal in sharing these highs and lows was to illustrate in real time what working on calm looks like. It’s chaotic. Like all things I try to do on this blog, I look to the experts, scholarly journals, or data to make sense out of the process. I never thought I would fall back on organizational theory, but chaos theory is actually really useful. It helps explain why change like this is nonlinear and offers insights for facilitating its success.
What do you think? I’d love to hear if chaos theory applies to you. Leave me a comment!
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[1] Morgan, G. (1997). Images of Organization. (2nd Edition). Sage Publications.
