Even before I finished typing the words in this post’s title I was doubting their veracity. In fact, I believe that life is meant to be simple and we are the ones who make it complicated and overly complex. But by making this statement, I have already implicated myself in my own conspiracy theory, entrapped myself in a vicious circle of my own creation. In searching for the meaning of life, our raison d’être, the reason we get up in the morning, there isn’t some deep, dark demon lurking in the shadows bringing us down, engendering depression, nor causing us to question our lives. It is we, we are us, it’s a completely internal journey upon which we have embarked by our own volition. In Socratic terms, a life unexamined is a life not worth living. The extent to which this questioning drives us to become better and greater versions of ourselves makes it a noble endeavor. But when deep introspection prevents us from living life abundantly and creates so much existential angst that we are paralyzed by the dreaded fear that we may not matter at all, we must return to the notion of the simplicity of our being, our connectedness to everything and everyone, simultaneously simple and complex.
I believe that this collection of matter, this interconnectedness, is God. It cannot be otherwise given the inextricable web, the cause and effect of every one of our actions. Called karma in some belief systems and labeled as Newton’s third law, it is actually the divine order of things. My personal spiritual belief is that we are saved by grace through faith and this is God’s gift. Not earned by us but freely given. So I’m taking this gift of life, shaking it up from time to time, examining it as needed, and making sure I don’t take it for granted. But any way you look at it, life is complicated.