Why is Simple so Complicated?
I have just three things to teach: simplicity, patience, compassion.
These three are your greatest treasures.
Simple in actions and thoughts, you return to the source of being.
Patient with both friends and enemies, you accord with the way things are.
Compassionate toward yourself, you reconcile all beings in the world.
From The Tao Te Ching, Chapter 37 – trans. Stephen Mitchell
There is a passage in the book or Ecclesiastes in the Old Testament that states: “God made us straightforward, transparent, and without guile but we have become fearful, closed, and full of devious plans and strategies.” We all sense the truth of this sentiment. We say, and to a degree mean, that we would prefer an easier, simpler, and more natural life but we continue to create more and more complex and self-destructive patterns of living. What’s stopping us from returning to what we know we truly desire? What’s so complicated and difficult about living a simple life?
As the passage from Ecclesiastes infers, our complexity is self-made. As humanity evolved its social structures, a twist occurred that skewed our development and created a deluded sense of what progress, achievement, and a “good life” should mean. There is a pervasive sense of a “lost Eden” in our psyches that is reflected in the myths and stories of our various spiritual traditions. We feel there is something awry in the way we go about our lives, but we seem unable to regain our balance. There are complex conditioned stories and myths that contribute to our dilemma. Our intricate psychological makeup and our convoluted social and economic structures create an almost impenetrable shield against any meaningful change.
One of the many factors that I notice operating in my own life is the process of habituation. In psychology, the term refers to the way an emotional response to a stimulation will decrease as the stimulus is repeatedly given. Substance addiction is a prime example of habituation. Like an alcoholic whose tolerance gradually adapts to the alcohol in his system, creating the need for increased intake to achieve the desired feeling, we have become habituated to a sense of accumulation and complexity so pervasive that our understanding of “enough” is that of an alcoholic friend of mine who tells me, “Bill, there’s never enough!”
I intellectually affirm simplicity. I believe, and have experienced, that freedom comes from needing less of the things that I purchase with the hours of my life. But I am habituated. My culture is very much like a schoolyard drug dealer, promising me excitement and pleasure, then hooking me on his product and making me his customer for life. I say I can quit anytime, but I don’t. I find myself almost unconsciously back in the corner by the street, hiding behind the bushes looking for the dealer because I “need” just a little something more.
At the moment we live in a three bedroom house. One of the bedrooms is Nancy’s studio/workshop. The rent is more than we can afford so we are planning to move to a tiny/small cottage of some sort in order to live more appropriately and freely. Yet, after a year in this house, we have expanded to fill it. We have furniture and possessions scattered throughout the place and are flabbergasted when we find ourselves feeling that a smaller place would be a “sacrifice.” We are habituated to the space as if it should be the norm for a family on this small blue dot of Earth. The myth says, “Earn more so you can buy more – things, space, comfort. It doesn’t matter how distasteful the work or long the hours. Get to work!”
“Bill, is there really anything wrong with wanting to have nice things?”
Well, honestly, wrong is not the word I would use. We can’t be blamed for our wants because they are created by a complex and mostly unconscious process. The question we need to ask is, “Does wanting nice things enhance my experience of the moment-to-moment joy of my life, or does it detract from that joy?” Corollary questions are, “What is the source of this wanting? Why do I want these things, really? What have I seen, heard, or experienced that creates this want? What will happen when I get whatever this want happens to be? Will I be satisfied and content? And if I didn’t seek this thing, what would I be doing instead?”
To chastise myself with, “You don’t need all this. You should be satisfied with fewer things. Give it all away.” is as effective as telling the alcoholic, “You don’t need to drink. Simply stop!” Perhaps cold turkey is often an effective strategy, but let’s not make the mistake of thinking that it is easy, a simple matter of strength and willpower. A great deal of my writing over the years has been the work of a drunk, knowing what the times of sobriety feel like, instructing others (and thus himself) to get sober and stay sober.
Simplicity is complicated. It is complicated for many reasons and habituation is merely one of them. Over the coming months I’m going to be investigating the complexity of simplicity in more depth, using the resource of The Tao Te Ching as my guide. It is the clearest and most helpful guide to simple and authentic living available. I’m doing this because I want to experience more of the freedom that I have sometimes tasted in my life, but have trouble sustaining. Perhaps my exploration will be helpful to you. I hope so. We all need help to feel free.
