Order (n.) is necessary to humans — people need ordering principles, and that chaos otherwise beckons.
Order (n.) is routine and tradition, which is necessary, but can become excessive.
Order (n.) is the public facade we’re called upon to wear, the politeness of a gathering of civilized strangers, and the thin ice on which we all skate.
Order (n.) is the white, masculine serpent of the Yin and Yang; Chaos, its black, feminine counterpart. The black dot in the white—and the white in the black—indicate the possibility of transformation: just when things seem secure, the unknown can loom, unexpectedly and large. Conversely, just when everything seems lost, new order can emerge from catastrophe and chaos.
Order (n.) is is, along with chaos, the components of the eternal, transcendent environment of the living.
Order (n.) is not enough. Meaning is to be found by positioning yourself where the terror of existence is under control and you are secure, but where you are also alert and engaged.