Simple Enough to See
Simple Enough to See
From our friend Lindsey V. in the New York Center
In Antoine de Saint-Exupéry’s philosophical fable The Little Prince, the grown-ups are always concerned with numbers, possessions, occupations, and explanations. They want to know how old someone is, how much money he makes, or how large his house is. The Little Prince sees differently. He notices a flower, a sunset, a friendship. The grown-ups have accumulated knowledge about life, but somehow, in all their complexity, they have lost the ability to see what is directly in front of them. As the fox tells the Little Prince, “It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.” Simplicity allows the essence of things to be experienced.
Remember: simple, inconspicuous presence is all we are. — The Teacher
We often imagine that awakening must be complicated; otherwise, we would already be awake. We may think we need more knowledge, more techniques, more experiences, perhaps even a more sophisticated understanding of ourselves. We think that what we need is something outside of ourselves. Yet many spiritual traditions suggest something almost opposite: awakening depends less on adding something new than on reducing our mechanical manifestations.
Make thyself all simplicity. — Marcus Aurelius
Think of a bare tree in winter, a single flower in a vase, or a room with only a few objects in it. The Zen art tradition offers many such examples (the Ensō circle painted in the Sumi-e style on Charles Robertson’s Monday post is a beautiful example). When there is less clutter, we begin to notice what is actually there. The same is true inwardly. Our lives become crowded with thoughts, plans, explanations, anxieties, opinions, and expectations. We are constantly interpreting what is happening instead of simply being present to it. Simplicity is not something we need to manufacture. It appears when unnecessary things are removed.
If you endeavor to embrace the Way through much learning, the Way will not be understood. If you observe the Way with simplicity of heart, great indeed is this Way. — Zen Master
For me, busyness and haste are two great buffers against the simplicity of the moment. Haste and busyness displace presence. As The Arabian Nights says, “Haste is a gift from Satan.” Some days I rush from one task to another, telling myself that getting all of these things done is the goal and feeling virtuous when I get through my long to-do list. The real goal, if we can put it like that, is presence. Rushing can also become a habit, even an identity. When this happens, it can become strangely uncomfortable when nothing is happening. There is an urge to fill the space and keep the momentum going. Working with small, simple aims helps to break the momentum and invoke presence.
We cannot grasp the simplicity of God… — Bernard of Clairvaux
Complexity can serve the same purpose. We complicate relationships, spiritual ideas, work, and even our efforts to awaken. We create elaborate explanations for why we are the way we are. We may prefer a complicated theory about ourselves to the simple recognition that, at this moment, we are negative, afraid, pretending, or even asleep.
Presence has no pretense. That may be one reason it is difficult simply to be present. Pretense needs decoration. Essence presence has no need to explain, justify, impress, or defend. For a moment, there is no need to become anyone, prove anything, explain anything, or get anywhere. This reminds me of Gurdjieff’s image of a shortcut to awakening—the Sly Man’s Pill—which might be expressed simply as: “myself as I am, things as they are.” The question then becomes: Can we become simple enough to experience the extraordinary nature of what is already here?
When I let go of what I am, I become what I might be. — Lao-Tzu
Illustration from Le Petite Prince, Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, 1943
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