Carrying a Grudge? Stuck on a problem? Still emotional about a perceived past offense?
Would you be happy if the world worked simply? Could you be happy with something like the unconventional title of this blog, a period (Yes, the punctuation mark), as a solution or resolution? Got a problem? No problem. Period. Or, . Have a goal? Again, no problem. Period.
Of course, the world doesn’t work that way. We’re steeped in complexity while we desire simplicity. Even when we look at a single cell, we find complexity. And the atom? Don’t get me started. Didn’t really know they existed until Planck, Einstein, Bohr, and a group of really smart people figured out that Democritus was right. And we’re still not completely settled on the simplest components. Now what if—though they have no proof—string theorists are correct? Is that the simplest level of the universe? If we can’t get a handle on the simplest forms of physical makeup, how will we ever get a handle on philosophy, on motive, or on the Unconscious? At some point we’re going to have to settle on something we can use as a basis for daily living, for personal identity, for interpersonal relationships, and for lingering problems.
“Too much! It’s all too much,” you think.
We have complex human problems for which we seek simple solutions. But every simplicity seems to open like atoms to quarks within, and maybe as yet unproven strings inside.
The only way to put a period to any problem is to settle on a level of solution. Many searches for simplicity usually end up revealing previously unknown complexity. “Good enough!” is the simplest level of solution we can attain in most of our personal and interpersonal problems. The reason? Time.
We’re finite in case you haven’t noticed. Since human problems are usually complex, we can choose to settle on the simplest level of solution that time permits. Otherwise, we keep finding molecular, then atomic, then smaller and smaller subatomic component problems. If you keep looking for that ultimate solution, you’ll spend your time like the string theorists. They “believe” strings underlie the universe, that they make up the simplest level of physical existence, and they chase after them in complex formulas. But they have no proof. They don’t even have an experiment that they can run to demonstrate their final level of solution about the makeup of the universe. They write articles and books on strings to argue their hypotheses: They just “know” that strings are there and that other dimensions, however hidden, underlie everything. So, their formulas become increasing more complex. Careers have been spent in the search. Will increasingly more complex math in this search for the simplest resolve their problem? Maybe. Will they have the time?
As a kid, you knew there were three dimensions. As an adult, you recognize time as a fourth dimension. And you do pretty well at that level of simplicity. There’s a practicality to your dealing with the physical world on the simple level of four dimensions. And there’s a practicality to solving human problems to a certain level, to saying,
“Period.That’s good enough for now, because Now is all we have. If we keep dwelling on the matter, we might be searching for something we don’t have time to discover.”
Can we get to solutions as simple as E = mc^2? Human problems aren’t physical ones; they can’t be reduced to something like Einstein’s G = 8 pi T.* If a solution to a human problem works now, settle. Get to a reasonable level, and then admit that you have to put a period somewhere. Otherwise, you’ll have an interminable string of words. That interminable string is what those who carry grudges and those who dwell on their past problems keep lengthening.
*Just to give an example of the complexity of simplicity, I’ll refer you to a 323-page online manuscript by Kevin Wray entitled “An Introduction to String Theory.” You can find it at https://math.berkeley.edu/~kwray/papers/string_theory.pdf. Good luck wading through the formulas, but know that when you have finished reading all 323 pages, you likely won’t say, “Gee, that was simple.”
Would you be happy if the world worked simply? Could you be happy with something like the unconventional title of this blog, a period (Yes, the punctuation mark), as a solution or resolution? Got a problem? No problem. Period. Or, . Have a goal? Again, no problem. Period.
Of course, the world doesn’t work that way. We’re steeped in complexity while we desire simplicity. Even when we look at a single cell, we find complexity. And the atom? Don’t get me started. Didn’t really know they existed until Planck, Einstein, Bohr, and a group of really smart people figured out that Democritus was right. And we’re still not completely settled on the simplest components. Now what if—though they have no proof—string theorists are correct? Is that the simplest level of the universe? If we can’t get a handle on the simplest forms of physical makeup, how will we ever get a handle on philosophy, on motive, or on the Unconscious? At some point we’re going to have to settle on something we can use as a basis for daily living, for personal identity, for interpersonal relationships, and for lingering problems.
“Too much! It’s all too much,” you think.
We have complex human problems for which we seek simple solutions. But every simplicity seems to open like atoms to quarks within, and maybe as yet unproven strings inside.
The only way to put a period to any problem is to settle on a level of solution. Many searches for simplicity usually end up revealing previously unknown complexity. “Good enough!” is the simplest level of solution we can attain in most of our personal and interpersonal problems. The reason? Time.
We’re finite in case you haven’t noticed. Since human problems are usually complex, we can choose to settle on the simplest level of solution that time permits. Otherwise, we keep finding molecular, then atomic, then smaller and smaller subatomic component problems. If you keep looking for that ultimate solution, you’ll spend your time like the string theorists. They “believe” strings underlie the universe, that they make up the simplest level of physical existence, and they chase after them in complex formulas. But they have no proof. They don’t even have an experiment that they can run to demonstrate their final level of solution about the makeup of the universe. They write articles and books on strings to argue their hypotheses: They just “know” that strings are there and that other dimensions, however hidden, underlie everything. So, their formulas become increasing more complex. Careers have been spent in the search. Will increasingly more complex math in this search for the simplest resolve their problem? Maybe. Will they have the time?
As a kid, you knew there were three dimensions. As an adult, you recognize time as a fourth dimension. And you do pretty well at that level of simplicity. There’s a practicality to your dealing with the physical world on the simple level of four dimensions. And there’s a practicality to solving human problems to a certain level, to saying,
“Period.That’s good enough for now, because Now is all we have. If we keep dwelling on the matter, we might be searching for something we don’t have time to discover.”
Can we get to solutions as simple as E = mc^2? Human problems aren’t physical ones; they can’t be reduced to something like Einstein’s G = 8 pi T.* If a solution to a human problem works now, settle. Get to a reasonable level, and then admit that you have to put a period somewhere. Otherwise, you’ll have an interminable string of words. That interminable string is what those who carry grudges and those who dwell on their past problems keep lengthening.
*Just to give an example of the complexity of simplicity, I’ll refer you to a 323-page online manuscript by Kevin Wray entitled “An Introduction to String Theory.” You can find it at https://math.berkeley.edu/~kwray/papers/string_theory.pdf. Good luck wading through the formulas, but know that when you have finished reading all 323 pages, you likely won’t say, “Gee, that was simple.”
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