Fractal Behaviors.

Reflecting on a friend who recently passed away, I can say that he lead a great life and that to the very end. He was held in high regard by so many.

The secret to this, from my observations, is that he was always willing to help. This created relationships, and those relationships connected people in much the same way. The more you helped, the stronger the relationships were, the more weight they could sustain – like tree branches.

Religions and philosophies and all they overlap all are based on much the same thing, on creating patterns within society. Don’t go around killing people is probably the most common and popular one, which has gotten us to a pretty large population on an increasingly small world. Some might call it morals or ethics, integrity or character, but in a world where everyone seems to want to be more moral, ethical, integrous… it becomes a mockery of itself at times because people pretend rather than be.

It’s rare to find authentic people who follow these patterns without pretending. Politicians pretend all time, so much so that we expect politicians to be liars and it does not seem to be something that disappoints us too much because we keep doing it.

Our friends, though, our true friends, show a higher standard or should.

These habits, these simple things, allow us to be predictable, to allow us to fit into a world in such a way that even in our absence we are not lost because those patterns have been woven into the very fabric of the little worlds we create.

Divides.

DivisionIt was the first day of the flooding in parts of Trinidad and Tobago. I had been keeping up to date on things as best I could since I no longer have the 4×4 to roll in with. It was really bad in some areas, so I went out to handle some errands close to home and get back so I wouldn’t be unnecessarily on the road.

I stopped at the local Starbucks, walking in on a scene of some children at the register looking awkward.  Suddenly, a woman rushes in front of me, flustered, handing over some cash and complaining about her bank loudly. That her bank had sent out a notice earlier through social media that their network was out of service because of the flooding hadn’t made it into her busy life.

She was embarrassed and inconvenienced because her card didn’t work. She continued complaining about the bank to the point where it was interfering with me moving on with my life, so I gently made my presence known by waving my cash toward the register. She moved on with her children, awaiting their drinks.

Meanwhile, not far away, people had slept on the roofs of flooded homes. Not far away, people had lost the things that they had worked hard to get. Supplies were just beginning to get in from people not unlike her, though perhaps squawking less.

A snap judgement would have defined her as someone divorced of the reality of the flooding, but that would have dismissed the children in uniforms. I could question why schoolchildren needed Starbucks coffee, but I would be creating a prejudice from one data point – which is wrong. Maybe the woman had a hard morning. Maybe things weren’t going well, maybe the kids didn’t get breakfast. Maybe she was worried about something.

To many people there, that snap judgement would stick, perhaps unfairly, creating a division where there might not be one. Or maybe there is.

The moment sticks. We need to remember the power of moments.