Ockham's Razor, Compassion and Twelve Steps

Fourteenth century Franciscan philosopher, William of Ockham, is most famous for what we now call "Ockham's Razor." It is the principle of simplicity. Basically, in solving a problem you should always go for the fewest assumptions, the simplest explanation. The simplest available theory is usually the right one. Whether it was this kind of thinking that led him to the Franciscans (who valued simplicity highly) or that being a Franciscan led him to the philosophy of simplicity I do not know. But I do know that using Ockham's Razor, well, it simplifies things! How complex we often make things—mulling them over in our minds, adding layer after layer of complexity, mostly hypothetically.
In spirituality, I wonder if we do the same thing—make it too complex. I was pondering what spirituality is, what is its essence, what would it look like if I applied the Razor. That's a tricky task!
I came up with something like this:
spirituality is the process of becoming a more loving person, through spiritual practice (nourished by the lives and writings of the adepts, sages and mystics).
It's still a bit long for me—hence the brackets—but the core is process, love and practice. The bracketed clause is because I don't think spirituality is purely individualistic. We need the help and guidance of others who are further along the way.
Recently, I read Karen Armstrong's Twelve Steps to a More Compassionate Life. For many years now, and in many books, Armstrong has been analyzing the history of world religions. She has reached a conclusion that at the core of all the religions is the aspiration to a compassionate life. In other words, when she applied Ockham's Razor and removed all the complexity, she discovered compassion. I am persuaded by her argument. Of course, she doesn't deny the complexity of the various formulations, and dogma, and arguments, and practices, and hierarchies, and injustices. She just cuts through it all. Compassion is the result.
Armstrong's conclusion about the core of the religions is not a million miles away from my ponderings about spirituality. It's all in the title of her book: "compassion" is love, "twelve steps" is practice, "to a more," indicating movement, is process.
I like Armstrong's twelve steps, and they are worth a perusal. Clearly, as the title suggests, she nods toward other twelve step programs, which are so effective in overcoming addiction. They are deeply spiritual too.
I was especially struck by something in her long preface to the twelve steps. Speaking of Islam she says:
Muhammad asked his followers to make an existential “surrender” (islam) of their entire being to Allah, the Compassionate (al-Rahman) and Merciful (al-Rahim), who had given “signs” (ayat) of his benevolence to human beings in all the wonders of the created world.
(Armstrong, Karen (2010-12-28). Twelve Steps to a Compassionate Life (p. 60). Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.)
The notion of surrender is important—recognizing that we are not in control of things in the way we too often think we are. It is an important part of Daoism, as we surrender to the natural way of things and don't try to work against the grain. It is there in Christianity in the words of Jesus, "Your will not mine be done." It is there is all the mystical traditions as we surrender our ego attachments to find oneness with the One, the Cloud of Unknowing, the great mystery, the Brahman.
This kind of spiritual surrender is profoundly freeing. The strangest thing about it is that to get to the point of spiritual surrender can be quite a struggle. The ego clings on tightly. It provides all kinds of excuses why it knows best. It floods the mind with fears of what will happen when you "let go." But, if after the struggle, you do let go, if you do make Muhammad's existential surrender, then it is truly freeing. At least, I found it to be so this week.
+Ab. Andy