The edge of chaos

"In order for anything novel to come to fruition, an organism must be pushed to the edge of chaos"

"Leaves become most beautiful when they're about to die"

It's when we're pushed to the edge of chaos, death of all we know, stripped bare of our securities, that we flourish. We are forced to pick up pieces and create them into something new. The old no longer works, it's no longer acceptable, so we must cut a different path.

This planet seems to understand this. Earth is pushed to the edge of her existence by the chill of fall, and right before the cold snaps her in, she becomes the most beautiful colors. She seems to lie dead and dormant, but the reality is, she's preparing to break free. She's creating something new out of her dry, frosted skin and heavy bones. The moment she breaks through the ice, out of death, is the moment spring begins.

Somehow, we have to snap out of our own dead bones. We can try and try to refresh ourselves, but try as we might we can't do it alone. There's only one breath to breathe if we're going to push through this wall of chaos to the eye of the storm.