What threads make up the fabric of your life? These rituals that accompany birth, study, work, marriage, and death. Do they have a purpose that defines who you truly are?
Think about it — you, a conscious being with an entire universe of thoughts within you, living, thinking, feeling, and experiencing the world, depend entirely on the movement of molecules inside your body. Not just movements, but incredible performance acts, so intricate that the micro-world inside your body remains far beyond our full understanding.
These molecules are not alive. They are governed by physics and chemistry: forces of attraction and repulsion, energy exchanges, and other reactions unfolding according to natural laws. Each molecule performs its complex role in the collective hive of other molecules. Unconsciously. Without intention. Without awareness of any larger picture they belong to.
Just stop for a moment and think about this: No molecule knows that it is part of a cell. No cell knows that it is a part of a human body. No biochemical reaction knows that it contributes to something called you.
Together, they perform an unconscious dance of existence, preserving their structure and functions, fighting against the universe’s most relentless law — the drive to disperse and collapse into disorder. Science still does not fully understand what compels them to sustain such complexity, even for a tiny moment on the vast cosmic scale of time. As a person, you are given only a brief glimpse of that order before they inevitably return to chaos, pulling back the very person you are right now into the unknown.
Against all odds, these countless microscopic parts of matter produce what we call life. They give your breathing, your memories, your love, your fears. They make you alive — while having no motivation to be alive themselves.
Science can explain how these molecules operate and the exact mechanisms behind their movements. But it does not answer the main question—why does this dance of matter exist at all?
Imagine this: If this coordinated activity inside the body stops, you are gone in an instant. You cannot command these molecules and atoms to keep working. No, you cannot negotiate with them to continue their collective functions indefinitely. At most, you can damage or destroy all this system through deliberate self-harm, if you want to. The molecules themselves do not care. But you do.
Materialism tells us that, in the very distant past, an act of randomness has assembled these factories of microscopic particles. That you are a byproduct of the oddity of lifeless matter in motion, — an accident of physics and chemistry. According to this view, it was a singular, extraordinary moment in the distant past — the first spark of life, born from chaos itself. They call it a play of chance, a cosmic accident. But are they right?
You see, an extraordinary event always calls for an extraordinary explanation. Always. If you walked outside your house and saw a car falling from the sky, you wouldn’t shrug and say, “Well, things fall from the sky all the time—so I guess a car was bound to drop eventually”.
No — you’d seek an extraordinary explanation to make sense of that falling car. You cannot use statistics as the reason. A rare event among countless other falling objects wouldn’t suffice; the blind roll of chance isn’t an explanation — it’s merely an attempt to avoid the question. You’d want a genuine reason — a truth that accounts for such an impossible occurrence.
The explanation for your existence goes far beyond any scientific inquiry, laboratory test, or formula. It goes beyond statistics, coincidence or random chance. It transcends the boundaries of a particular religion and philosophy. Its true essence can only be sensed during the very moment of being alive. And if you don’t feel it now, you will. One day, you will catch a glimpse of your true destination. Just wait.
A strict materialist might say: none of these molecules inside your body have purpose. Therefore, the whole that emerges from them — you — has no objective purpose either. Random processes have produced you, so ultimately, you are the result of a chemical accident. In this blind play of matter, non-existence is as valid as existence. Killing is as indifferent as being kind. Dead matter in purposeless motion, and anything derived from it, has no regard for the things we, as humans, care about.
But here's something that's rarely emphasized: Human beings create their own purpose. Even atheists might say, “I have a goal”, whatever that may be. They do not believe in the Grand intention, and still assign meaningful aims to their lives. Purpose, they argue, is subjective; it’s the mind that assigns meaning. It exists, whether you seek it or not. It’s like music coming to life when you play a vinyl record. You can’t measure a melody or test it in a laboratory, but it undeniably exists.
And exactly this raises the main question: How does purpose arise from matter that has no purpose? How does intention emerge from particles that follow blind natural laws of chemistry? Or how morality emerges from something that is totally indifferent to what is good and what is bad.
Do we know of any clear example where purposeless parts, arranged without intention, create genuine purpose? The entire history of mankind's experience tells us that it is not possible.
A sand dune has no purpose, and we know why: the grains of sand are arranged by the wind, without intention. You see this? Maybe this example is too simple? Well, consider a sophisticated chemical reaction — a random mix of substances. Would it result in something purposeful? Of course, — not.
But a constructed building has a very clear reason. As a result, its parts are deliberately designed and arranged. In our ordinary experience, the purpose of the whole always defines a meaningful arrangement of its parts. Like yourself — a being who experiences purpose, seeks meaning, and acts toward goals. And, therefore, all these molecules animated by blind forces are arranged purposely.
It is precisely your purpose that activates meaningful movement of these tiny parts of matter in their unimaginable coordination. Yes, all these molecules and atoms that create you. And if, at this very moment, this purpose is beyond your comprehension, just wait and you will find it.
Not sure?
Then think the other way around: Coordinated complex parts must define the purpose of the whole. All these particles that make up you, molecules and atoms, perform actions towards the result. We know this by observing them in laboratories. And this result is not just survival in the chaotic surroundings. Because they do not care about survival. They do not have minds to care about existence. There must be another purpose at play, with survival being merely the necessary condition to sustain them in a hostile environment, enabling them to fulfill their intended function. Because the appearance of complex functions is never just for survival. Survival is only necessary to achieve other, much more important intentions.
Yes, that's correct. When you observe complex parts arranged and functioning in a specific order, the conclusion is clear: they are designed to contribute to something greater — a meaningful goal. The individual components of a car serve the purpose of the car as a whole. The entire structure, from the smallest parts to the car itself, must be intentionally crafted by a mind.
If all these tiny particles inside your body — atoms and molecules — are acting in coordination, then they must be purposely arranged to create you. And if that's the case, then you, too, must have a purpose.
Still uncertain? It's only because of one thing: this purpose is so profound that it may only be fully understood at the end of your journey in this reality of matter.
By S.Chekanov. This script was for the YouTube video: https://youtu.be/ocys-rE2P3s?si=CP0AT9dwH5qa9b4x