Essentially simple… yet infinitely intricate.
The statement above is one of the unstated themes of my book, Like Riding a Bike. In fact, it’s one of the major connections between cycling and just about everything else in life, and even life itself. It goes well with just about anything worth doing. For example, “Riding a bike is essentially simple, yet infinitely intricate.”
Most kids learn how to ride a bike by the time they’re 6 or 7 years old. It can’t be too difficult if small children can learn the basics. Thus, riding a bike is essentially simple. Now jump ahead a few years and see those same kids competing in mountain bike or road races. The terrain is technical. The equipment is cutting edge. The skills are highly honed to manage the constantly shifting balance of speed, strength, and endurance. Who could deny that riding a bike is infinitely intricate?
When I first came up with the phrase “essentially simple, yet infinitely intricate” I had the word “complex” in the place of “intricate.” But the more I thought about it, the less I liked some of the connotations of complexity. While I mean complex in the sense of a collection of individual skills, knowledge, and abilities, others might interpret it to mean something that is difficult if not impossible to master. Thinking through what I really wanted to communicate lead me to the better choice of “intricate.”
My idea of intricacy is that something has all kinds of little connections with other things within itself. For example, in cycling there are hundreds of specialized techniques for different conditions and situations. There are dozens of possible equipment adjustments. There are many approaches to training and conditioning the rider. In total, there are innumerable ways to combine all the little elements that make up cycling. It’s definitely intricate, but not impossible. While it remains essentially simple, it can get as complex or difficult as you chose to make it within all the intricacies.
Cycling and triathlon interest me because I can see their intricacies and strive to understand and develop them. There’s always another skill to be polished. There’s always another tip to be learned. There are always more connections to be made. Yet I strive to keep the quest for ever-greater refinement balanced with the simple joy of riding and training. I have often found that focusing too much on the intricacies detracts from the simplicities. But then again, there is a richness of experience that comes from a deeper understanding of the intricacies.
One thing we all deal with in life is recognizing where we are on the continuum between simple and intricate. You may have a preferred point where you stand on the spectrum the majority of the time. For instance, some people are generally more detail-oriented than others. But that doesn’t mean you can’t intentionally move more toward one end or the other from time to time. For example, when riding my bike, I sometimes get into a very technical (intricate) mode when doing some specific training, while other times I ride for the simple enjoyment of it. The breadth of your experience increases as you learn to play along the scale.
One of the least favorite things that my son sometimes says is, “I’m bored.” To me, boredom is primarily in the mind of the beholder. In other words, if you’re bored, it’s most likely your own fault. I try to point out to him that if he thinks he’s bored it’s probably because he’s not making the most of what’s going on around him or he’s not applying himself enough to the situation. I’m usually met by a blank stare; he is only six after all.
So what does boredom have to do with simplicity and intricacy? I suspect it relates to how much detail or intricacy you see, understand, or appreciate. What may seem simple or boring on the surface is probably quite intriguing if you look for the intricacies.
Take baseball, for example. To a six year-old with limited knowledge of the game, it’s a bunch of guys standing around and sometimes running after a ball. That simple understanding keeps things entertaining for a while, but not for long. “Daddy, this is boring.” But those with a deeper knowledge of the game see its intricacies of positioning and pitch sequencing, its signs and strategies, and its grace, power, and beauty. Same game; different perception based on the intricacies you see.
Much of life is essentially simple. As you get drawn to the things that appeal to you at a simple level, you gain skill, knowledge, or ability with them. You begin to appreciate intricacies and subtleties. You discover new connections and possibilities. You enjoy a greater range of experience. You find you are rarely bored.