The Simple, The Complex, The Enlightened

One of my most transformative experiences was the opportunity I had to spend a little time with the world renowned author and teacher Robert Johnson. Robert explained to me one day that there are three different kinds of people. He explained it to me this way:

-The simple person walks outside, looks up at the stars, takes a few deep breaths, then wonders, “What's for dinner?”

- The complex person wonders about the task to be done and especially the ones that have not been. The complex person’s attention may be focused on the stock market going up and down and their mind will be moving very rapidly from one thing to another. Their breathing will be rapid and shallow. The complex person’s mind will be filled with lots of knowledge and data and will most likely be multitasking.

- The enlightened person walks outside, looks up at the stars, takes a few deep breaths, then wonders, “What's for dinner?”

I have pondered this many times. How the early stages and the later stages in the development of human consciousness look and feel very similar. Biologically speaking, the same is also true - a new born and the person close to death have many of the same needs and are usually cared for in like ways.

Robert Johnson, whom I consider to be one of the most enlightened human beings that I have had the honor to spend time with, lived most of his last years among simple, uneducated, poor peasants in India. I asked him why he chose to live there and he simply replied, “Because my soul is alive there among my friends.”

My maternal grandfather was a very attractive, charismatic, successful businessman and farmer. As I child I loved to spend time with him. When he would get off work he would say to me, “Doodle (he called me Doodle) let's hop in the truck and go take a ride to the Back Woods.” We would hop in. All the windows had to be rolled down for lots of fresh air. Out into the woods we would ride. I would watch him as he gazed at the land, at the trees, and the sky - almost like he was connected to, and one with the land, the trees and the sky. Eventually we would arrive at what he called the “Back Woods.” A little farm community of simple, small, unpainted wood houses which all had front porches. The residents, all African American - the men dressed in denim overalls and work boots - the women dressed in homemade simple dresses. As we got out of the truck, I could see the smile on my grandfather’s face. It was as if he had arrived home. He would be greeted with smiles and hugs. They were all friends. He asked them if they remembered Doodle (that’s me). They would hug me, and pat me on the head. We would go from house to house - porch to porch - sharing food, sharing stories, feeling the breeze, looking out over the land, breathing slowly. Eventually, the sun would set and we would have to get back in the truck and ride back to our complex world.

At a family wedding in Alabama, my brother (who is also an Episcopal Priest) was assigned the task of hosting a dignitary that would be attending the wedding. The dignitary was Bishop Barbara Harris, the first women to be ordained a Bishop in the worldwide Anglican Communion. Bishop Harris is a short little African American lady. After the wedding ceremony, all of the guests made their way to the Dothan Country Club for the reception. During the reception, my brother looked around the hall and could not find Bishop Harris. He looked and looked and could not find her anywhere. He thought to himself, “Good Lord I have lost the very first woman Bishop in the whole world.” He continued his search and finally asked some of the kitchen staff members had they seen the little lady that is wearing a clerical collar? The staff reported that they did in fact know where she was. They reported to him that she was out behind the kitchen. My brother walked through the kitchen. He passed the dish pit and walked out the back door. There she was, Bishop Harris, an equal in a circle of dish washers. She had a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other. He listened as they shared stories and told jokes. He watched them breathe slowly. He finally interrupted and said, “Bishop Harris I will be inside if you need anything.” He left the Bishop and the dish washers and he returned back to the complex world.

Henry David Thoreau left his complex life and attempted to reenter what he called the essential life by living in a small cabin beside Walden Pond. He stayed there for two years. I am conscious of the fact that three years ago my life was way too complex. I was too busy. The structure of my life was so overwhelming that I had no clue how to step down from the complex life. In my my case, life circumstance carried me to Walden Pond; which probably saved my life. Three years later I'm starting to emerge from the Back Woods. However, my hope is that never again will I get lost in a complex life. For now I know, I can always sit outside and gaze up at the stars. I can slow my breathing down. I can share stories and tell jokes with friends, family, and people I love. I can just sit for a moment in the peace and stillness. I feel a smile coming on because that seems like home. I wonder, “What’s for dinner?”