Contemplative life

I’ve been wondering these last few days about life’s meaning—or its goal.

Meaning

There is none. We are barely monkeys that developed a brain (some of us, at least); primates with gray matter big enough to overthink about “the meaning of life.”

Well, as biology has abundantly shown, the meaning of life is simple: not to die. And maybe—just maybe—to reproduce.

Everything beyond that is an addition.

Goal

Then again… the goal of life feels too personal to pin down. What we aim to achieve is intimate, subjective, and—perhaps most of all—volatile.

It’s fashionable to say that the goal of life is to “be happy.” But what is happiness? Too intimate a matter as well.

Contemplation

Of all plausible goals, one comes immediately to mind: a contemplative life. A life dedicated to reflection—to observing, enjoying, and letting life unfold before us.

Aristotle and Saint Thomas Aquinas, two of the greatest minds in our Western tradition, both taught about this.

Aristotle argues that the highest human good is found in the life of contemplation—an activity most akin to the divine: self-sufficient, pursued for its own sake, and requiring leisure. Not bad. Not bad at all.

Aquinas goes further, declaring the contemplative life to be outright superior—union with God through prayer and meditation, the ultimate truth and good.

Prize

To buy ourselves some (or total) freedom for a life of deliberate contemplation is, in itself, a prize.

In a world obsessed with hustle, productivity, and busyness, the ability to step back, live slowly, and devote oneself to contemplation—whether through philosophy, art, spirituality, or simply deep reflection—is a rare luxury.

Having the resources, freedom, and discipline to cultivate a contemplative life might indeed be the highest status symbol. It means you are no longer a victim—no longer trapped in the constant aggravation of modern life.

The ultimate flex. A power move.