My complexity is NOT a problem to BE solved. It is NOT an equation nor can it BE reduced to any single element.
My complexity is my gift. It is what makes me ME and NOT someone or something else. It is richer and deeper and far more faceted than what I can imagine.
And while my complexity does sometimes cause me sleeplessness and an outrageously prolonged sense of BEing in suspense, it is also that which gives ME and my Life flavour, texture, and hue.
It is easy to look at all that I don’t know, canNOT DO, have no awareness of, and can NEVER see clearly and call it complex, even enigmatic.
But that is just a label. A convenience. A reduction. It is NOT truly my complexity.
To go through Life as though I were nothing more nor less than a sheet of mathematical problems to BE solved would BE to live in a shadow, BEyond grasp or really knowing.
It would NOT simplify what is complex nor clarify what it is that confuses me. It would merely make my Life run-off, the gunk that snow leaves BEhind when it melts.
My complexity is to BE embraced, invited, and celebrated. It is to BE enJOYed and it is to BE cherished.
As simple as that.
I love you, Currie