Recently reading about an extra added layer of something practiced by some but not by others. Some people are interested, but I find I am somewhat needing to be persuaded. My question is always: really, why make things more complex than they need to be?
Isn’t there an elegance in simplicity?
Certainly there is an allure to the baroque, to the idea of adding more and more curliques and doodads to everything. And yes, it can be fun. But to my mind there is always, or should always be, an essential core to something, and to maintain and respect that burning heart at the center is absolutely important. One of the dangers of complexity is that one can cover the essence with so much detail that the essence quietly slips away, simply because it does not wish to be contained, or caged, under so much effluvia.
Detail may be necessary to delineate, or to accentuate essential qualities. But there is a difference between detail and excess. Excess covers up, detail illuminates, but there are some things that shine so on their own that it may be best to get out of the way and let them be what they are.
How many names can there be for the Nameless? And when do those names hide, rather than reveal?
In playing the electric guitar, the signal path between the guitar and the amplifier is important. The more you put in between the guitar and the amplifier (effects, let’s say), the more the essential sound is obscured. Eventually, if you keep adding effects and using a longer and longer cord, the signal is lost or obscured.
If “as above, so below” is true then perhaps something even as mundane as the signal from a guitar to an amplifier can be reflective of a spiritual principle.