Simplicity or complexity

Most of the time, we think about minimalism as something good. And while on the outside I can feel cluttered, on the inside I’m a devoted minimalist — very fond of the idea.

Let me give you two examples — one where I chose (relative) minimalism, and one where I went with complexity.

My old MacBook got ruined by water almost two years ago, and when after a few days it refused to recognize the hard drive, I put it aside and never touched it since. I didn’t buy a replacement, but instead made it work with an iPad and a keyboard. (I have another MacBook for work.) Yesterday, it turned out that the MacBook was working, and now I have it back. And… I’m not sure that I want it back. A more minimal setup is fine for me, and having a choice of writing this text on a MacBook or on an iPad, I choose the latter. Works better with texts for me — as well as for reading or watching.

A different example.

I’m trying out something that half of the planet threw themselves into when the pandemic was young — making sourdough bread from scratch. I haven’t baked a single loaf yet — but I’ve already spent enough time discarding failed dough starters, and reading up on the topic. There are way simpler ways to get bread. From a bakery fresh and perfect, just a couple of minutes time and a setback of a few euros. Then, if we talk about a hobby, I could make bread with yeast. Another level of complexity up — find someone with a ready starter and ask to share. But I want to try the most complex way of them all, all by myself, all the steps.

These are two different examples of striving for simplicity vs deliberately seeking out complexity. I cannot even compare them (yes, apples and oranges, and even — food and robots). But there are specific different pulls in these two scenarios. One is minimizing the tools, and not keeping this maintenance of gadgets as an additional level. The other is a case of exploration and curiosity. What does it take to make a starter from air, water and flour? What would the dough feel like to the touch? Am I able to handle it? Essentially, what does it take to make a loaf of bread?

While not purely functional, this is the complexity that gives life color.

Comforting sounds

There are sounds that make you comfortable. Here are some of mine.

  • A muted conversation of parents in another room as you’re falling asleep, or waking up from a nap. Known from childhood, but also as you visit them, you get into this special comfort zone of yours.
  • Almost anything by Radiohead playing in the background.
  • Sound of a coffee shop — chatter, coffee machines, music, clatter of cups.

(To be continued as I think of more things like this.)

I’m not adding nature sounds, they probably soothe everyone, but I rarely wake up to the sound of birds in the woods or a mountain creek. Okay, rain happens, and birds tweeting outside the window too, but they are too common to mention.

Overnight trains, when you wake up to the clickety clack sound of the train wheels on the rails — this can be soothing, too, but often there’s more excitement and expectation of what’s waiting for you where you’re going. Visiting someone, or coming home.

There is an old discussion on what sounds and smells people find comforting. Apart from the usual suspects like rain and ocean, there are a lot of mentions of food cooking. It’s usually me cooking — and I find the activity very comforting, but I wouldn’t single out the sound of it, as it is part of the process.

As easy as it is go get annoyed by sounds, it’s good to pay attention to what you find pleasant.

Physical > Mental

The formula above is very simple, and can be read in two ways:

Physical is more than mental.

Physical leads to mental.

Both readings are true, although my pretentious intellectual self wants to argue the first one. Even when you’re not your best physically, with the power of your highly developed mind, you can make yourself feel better. But the reality is, so often, our emotional and mental states are the result of our physical state and brain chemistry. What we eat, how we sleep, whether we are physically active. Without the physical resources, there is way less for our powerful brains to work with.

And the change in the physical state regulates so much of the mental capacities.

***

That’s right, I have just exercised. A very brief workout, even though I am not feeling too well, physically.

A momentary realization: I don’t have to wait to be fully healthy and rested to do some exercising. Not stressing myself too much, but doing only what feels right, even a ten-minute timeframe to move my body works wonders and feeds me with endorphins. I don’t have to wait for a perfect weather to go for a run. Weather is rarely perfect for runs, until you’re already running. And there’s absolutely no waiting for the ideal mental state to do some physical activity. Physical > Mental. If I manage to remember it, I’ll be fine.