LOCK+KEY. 🔐

At its core, life seems to follow a pattern set forth by a physical and possibly spiritual world—a world so complex that it remains beyond our complete understanding. This can lead us to conclude that our existence may lack inherent meaning, either because meaning is so beyond our comprehension that it doesn’t functionally exist or simply because it never existed to begin with.

Yet, within this conclusion lies an interesting paradox: While the “true meaning” of life may be unreachable or non-existent, the concept of meaning clearly exists. In other words, we hold a key in our minds, but the lock it fits remains out of reach. At the end of the day, even the metaphor of “lock and key” is itself a human construct. But could it be more than just a metaphor? Could it offer a clue to understanding what meaning is—or what purpose could be?

From an optimistic point of view, since a key exists, a lock must also exist—it just hasn’t been found yet. It makes no sense for one to exist without the other. To conclude that the lock of meaning is lost beyond our comprehension is the same as giving up on the search. I do not subscribe to nihilism—the belief that no purpose exists—as a way of understanding life. In fact, I find it difficult to believe that purpose does not exist, given how deeply people yearn for it. Even the acceptance of nihilism is, ironically, an attempt to find purpose in the belief that there is no purpose.

Everything we experience—whether physical or ideological—tends to organize itself into some form of meaning. In turn, this organization gives rise to moralities and virtues, all stemming from our search for significance. This search may be more active for some and more passive for others, but I believe that passivity leads to confusion. In a passive state, it’s easy to mistake a mere distraction for a clue on the path to purpose. All things—whether we recognize them or not—are either clues or distractions. A street sign, for instance, could be a meaningful guide to one person but an irrelevant marker to another.

I mean, what’s the point of playing a game if you don’t try to win, reading a book if you don’t seek to understand it, or living a life if you don’t strive to establish purpose? It is not enough to simply exist. We are called to live with direction and intent, even if we are unsure who or what is calling us. When I run, I don’t only focus on the physical sensation of my muscles contracting or my feet pressing against the ground. I also look ahead, moving with purpose and direction. In this way, I can feel connected to something larger, something that I am still discovering.