I'm not good with chaos, and I definitely consider messiness and its close cousin, clutter, chaos. That I have no artistic talent aside, that's probably why I became a writer--there's something so clean and satisfying about words on a page, so easily erasable and changeable.
But I also learned that a love of gardening and a love of the outdoors required tolerance for a certain degree of messiness. So I developed an appreciation for soil, for dirt beneath my fingernails, for callused feet and muddy knees. I played up the romance of weather and uncertainty, seasonal shifts and unexpected results.
Inoculating ourselves against the messiness of life by immersing ourselves in the clean, natural messiness of art, of the outdoors, of baking is one of the cheeriest ways we can strengthen our resolve, our tolerance, and our fondness for a little chaos.