Complexity

One thing I've been coming to grips with lately is the whole concept of complexity.  Our minds are incredibly complex, but how much of life and knowledge are we really meant to know?

I look at our bodies, and I wonder if we aren't just complex cells in disguise.  Sure, we have arms and fingers, but are they just elongated tendrils in disguise?  We have bags of water that contract and expand that make us move.

If a grand alien being was looking at us through a microscope, what would it see?

I sort of see us as complex cells, much like the cells of our own heart and lungs.  We live in this "ether" (air), and move around in our environments, much like our blood cells do in our arteries.  We have the ability to take raw materials and build organized structures out of them, much the way that mitochondria do within our bodies.

I also look at the "knowledge" of our cells.  What do they really know?  They can do certain things, but their sphere of knowledge is rather limited.  They know how to handle certain stimuli, and how to avoid (or not handle) others.

I've been translating this to us as a species, lately.  How does a cell in your heart know what a heart is?  It couldn't possibly understand exactly what it's a part of.  In the same way, how could *we* possibly know what we are part of?

I think the Earth is another complex cell, and that Galaxies might be greater organisms that are part of a bigger organism (think: End of Men in Black, except an organism instead of marbles).

We have distinct capabilities as cells: we can care for each other, or we can hurt/kill each other off.

I've grown comfortable with the fact that I won't ever understand everything.  This has been hard for me.  However, I'm becoming more comfortable with the fact that I'm here to help people.  Of course,

I don't know the exact path or nature of this goal; I just know that it's the general direction of my life.

Love and generosity.

It is the greatest capacity that we have as cells...