Complexity is a warm weighted blanket
(How to grow deeper into the earth aka. the body)
In my experience, the truths that resonate most with me are painfully simple at their core. Once we grasp them, there isn’t much thinking required; they demand action. And taking action can be scary, burdensome, or just plain boring.
Simplicity is not only what comes before complexity, it is also what comes after. (And so the cycle continues.)
This might explain why “love and light” proponents tend to get so much hate. Apart from providing an ideal surface for projection, we can often intuitively sense when the simplicity of the “all is one” axiom hasn’t been acquired through a genuine integration of the complexity of interpersonal conflict, loss, individual preferences, anger, grief, reclaiming personal power and such. We can all feel when love and light is a simple band-aid that covers up the heart of a person that doesn’t have the capacity for full-body forgiveness yet.
Complexity on the other hand can feel like a warm weighted blanket where we can perpetually curl up beneath. At times it can also feel like drowning in a vast sea of information. We may engage with both sensations as a form of elaborate procrastination: “This is too complex for me to understand right now, it’ll naturally take me a long time, so I don’t have to change anything yet. Or “I can’t possibly be qualified to comprehend such overwhelming complexity; I should listen to the experts.”
It can also show up as “I must be better than others if I get how deeply complex this is, so I’m safe in this world and my needs for love and stability will be met due to my superiority (as there is not enough for everyone)”, or like “if something is that complex, it must be scientific and therefore closer to some absolute truth, therefore I am safe and will not be punished or cancelled for acting on a false premise.”
Photo by Blake Cheek on Unsplash
Simple truths are very difficult to hold. They tend to slip through our fingers like water. They often require a big capacity for self-responsibility. We may rather think: “it just can’t be this simple, so I still require external information, guidance, or validation.”
A perfect example is how our society approaches the body. We’ve constructed impenetrable loops of complexity to convince ourselves that the body is a flawed yet intricately complex system of highly differentiated structures, that required constant fixing. In my experience, the body is infinitely wise and complex, yet when we examine how it runs mental-emotional programs, it does so in an almost comically simple way. It really wants us to get it.
We can simply ask, “How does this symptom make me feel?” And then, “What else in my life makes me feel this way?” or “When have I felt this way in the past?” If we’re fortunate enough to have some at least authentic energy flowing through our upper energy centers, we’ll receive meaningful answers, bread crumps, that will guide us through the labyrinth of stuck psychic energy clusters that navigate our experience.
Yet accepting that answer almost always requires stepping into a new, uncomfortable way of being, doing, and thinking.
“That’s too simple”, we might think. “This is too straightforward; people who support this narrative must be ignorant, narrow-minded, or even dangerous. We should focus instead on the complex physiology of cell structures, how they relate to our toxic environment, our genetics, our nutrition, parasites, bacteria, and so on.” In the beginning it might a both-and kind of situation until our own psychic filters adjust.
Focusing on the never ending complexity of symptom narratives is sometimes easier and allows us to remain comfortably wrapped in the need to first solve the riddle, to uncover the truth or even better, letting it be uncovered by the ones who claim that they can.
Of course the sacred paradox is that simple truths always contain the potential for infinite complexity. We can view them from countless angles, different frequencies, and through various filters. But this doesn’t take away from their inherent simplicity.
For much of my life, I was addicted to complexity. Now, I’m befriending simplicity more and more, and it’s both frightening and liberating. Accepting the inevitable call to action that accompanies simplicity brings about real and lasting transformation of the kind where one grows as deep into the earth as they reach into the sky.
Photo by Antonio Alcántara on Unsplash
Growing deeper into the earth enhances our grounding, connecting us to Mother Earth and her rich, dark wisdom. Remaining grounded makes it much harder to bypass the unsexy facts of life: That one day, even though we are eternal in essence, we will die. That salvation from perpetual self-responsibility is a fantasy. That we cannot meditate our way out of dissociation. That even though time is an illusion, it really does take time to build something real.
Returning to the example of body complexity, this also means recognizing that everlasting perfect health is nothing more than a collective picture born from outdated paradigms of paradise. Our bodies will always strive for equilibrium between all aspects of self, inner and outer experiences. As long as we live, we grow, and with growth come new challenges, even if we have the perfect diet, exercise regimen, supplement routine, cold plunge freezer in the backyard, and aristocratic genes.
Simplicity often leads us into the uncomfortable sphere of grey areas. Of not perfect, of always evolving, of natural cycles: creation, maintenance, destruction. Not forever young, not only needing to crack this complex code that will set us free.
Of course medicine and the complexity of pathophysiology are perfectly valid and fascinating. And yet, there is more to the story. Just as in essence, we truly are all one.
