Simplicity and Complexity

My friend Erja surveys a bog crossing in western Finland"You travel light," Husband observed early in our marriage.

I peered at him, squinty-eyed. It didn't sound like a very complimentary assessment, and it was made more suspicious by the fact that I didn't know how to interpret it.

He went on to explain that I have a talent/propensity (depending on your viewpoint) for simplifying things and moving on. Husband, on the other hand, sees the complexity in every concept and situation, and in fact revels in the beauties of complexity.

The upside of my talent is that I am able to cut things down to a simple concept, ignoring the "yes, buts," and move ahead toward my goal. "Ready. Lights. Action!" could be my motto. The downside of my propensity is that in my simplification of problems or situations, I can ignore small things that mean a great deal to someone, or jump to conclusions before others are ready to accompany me.

The upside of Husband's talent for seeing the complexities is that he is thorough in analyzing problems and concepts, and therefore is more cautious, considering all the nuances before moving forward. The downside of Husband's propensity to see complexities is that he can get bogged down in them, and there are situations in which timing means success or a goal reached.

So here we are, Mrs. Simplification and Mr. Complexity, living and making decisions in the same spaces together. Sometimes it must seem that I'm skipping across the bog on boards laid down to provide a sure footing, while he's in his rubber boots, wading through while gaining an understanding of the entire ecosystem of that bog. When I notice that, I stand in awe ... on my little boards.

Sometimes I wish that people--especially those who I perceive as tending toward hyper-analysis or pessimism--would stop and appreciate the delightful beauty of one of my dramatic, panoramic statements or judgments. And sometimes I think Husband wonders if some of us shallower folk--he would never use that term--will ever see the beauty of all the intricate parts in a multifaceted paradigm he has grasped and expressed with such care and thought.

It's not surprising that the differences can cause each of us to grind our teeth at times; what is surprising is that so little gritting of the teeth actually occurs. I can't speak for Husband, but I can say that Mr. Complexity is good for me. He slows me down, shows me where I should be cautious, and makes me think of the Why. And then I hop back up on those planks (because Mrs. Simplicity simply can't face putting on her rubber boots), perhaps adjust my pathway across the bog, and hopefully walk a better walk.