Over at The Curator, Seth Morgan is hunting complexity:
What lies beyond us, creeping at the edge of our understanding—the infinite—is not just space, not just the expanse of time. It is complexity. And it is everywhere apparent. The more you look, the more there is. The deeper you go, the deeper it is.
It may be that my dreaming mind is haunted by this insight: no reality exists but what is backed by intricate mystery. In every dream I’m breathless. Sometimes I wake up sweating. But sometimes the dream continues. My arms drape behind me as my heaving chest rises toward the irreducible inhabited expanse above me. I feel terror, panic, awe. Either the infinitude of space, or the swarming of an algal bloom, or the source of both somehow fills my vision, backed by a wash of light. Finally, in a flash, the panicked self is gone. Out of all of it a unity arrives that enfolds in a single forgiveness what there was of me that feared. Then I wake up.
Is this my conception of the divine, spreading out and seeping in to fill the intricate holes of our teeming reality? Could it be that my infinite God has been, not too small, but too simple?