Life Isn’t That Complicated. We Just Interfere.

Why This Is Worth Reading

This is a short reflection on why most of the friction we experience isn’t caused by life itself, but by our need to manage, explain, and control things that don’t actually require it. If you’ve felt busy, stuck, or oddly exhausted by decisions that shouldn’t be this hard, this will probably land.

Read Time: 3 Minutes

Life has turns, detours, and the occasional pothole that rattles your teeth. That part is unavoidable. Anyone promising a smooth ride either hasn’t lived much or is selling a course.

What is avoidable, though, is how much we add on top of it.

I’ve been noticing this in my own life lately, not necessarily in some dramatic unraveling, but in the quieter moments where I catch myself overthinking a decision that already knows where it wants to go. Drafting conversations that would be better spoken plainly. Holding options open because committing would close a door I’m not emotionally ready to shut.

Most of us aren’t confused, we’re just too damn noisy.

Clarity Under Pressure

There’s a reason the Stoics were obsessed with clarity and restraint. Marcus Aurelius wrote, “If you are distressed by anything external, the pain is not due to the thing itself, but to your estimate of it.” That wasn’t just philosophy for philosophers; it was a survival strategy for people in power, pressure, and responsibility.

Modern research backs this up in less poetic language. Studies on decision fatigue show that the quality of our decisions deteriorates the more options and narratives we pile on. The brain isn’t designed to hold infinite possibilities, it’s designed to choose, act, and adjust.

Taoism captures this through the principle of wu wei, often described as effortless action. It’s a way of moving that stays aligned with what’s already unfolding, responding with precision rather than force, and allowing momentum to do its work instead of wrestling with it... that’s the part we often resist.

Progress Through Reduction

We’ve been taught that progress comes from effort stacked on top of effort, from constant optimization, from staying busy enough to feel in control of the outcome. Yet most of the clarity I’ve found in my own life has arrived through reduction rather than addition, through stripping away the excess commentary, expectations, and self-narration that quietly complicate what is already clear.

Antoine de Saint-Exupéry captured this perfectly when he wrote, “Perfection is achieved not when there is nothing more to add, but when there is nothing left to take away.” That idea has become a practical lens for me, shaping how I make decisions, speak honestly, choose what actually matters, and allow chapters to end without turning them into explanations or lessons.

This way of moving doesn’t make life simpler in the shallow sense; it makes it truer, cleaner, and far more workable.

When clients tell me they feel stuck, overwhelmed, or unsure of their next move, what I usually hear isn’t a lack of intelligence, experience, or capability. I hear someone standing at the edge of a decision they already understand, waiting for certainty to arrive before they trust themselves to move. The hesitation often sounds reasonable, even responsible, but it quietly reinforces the very state they’re trying to escape.

The paradox is that momentum tends to follow the decision rather than precede it. Clarity sharpens once something is chosen. Energy organizes itself after commitment. Information that felt unavailable suddenly becomes obvious because attention finally has a direction. Waiting for certainty keeps everything theoretical; choosing turns insight into motion.

Most progress doesn’t come from knowing more, it comes from deciding with what you already know and allowing the next layer of understanding to reveal itself through action. What I’m learning, slowly and imperfectly albeit, is that life tends to cooperate when attention replaces control. Responsibility stays intact, clarity improves, and action flows with what’s already happening. You pay attention, you respond, you adjust, you move on, and momentum takes care of the rest. That’s maturity.

The Question Worth Sitting With

So here’s the question I’ve been sitting with, one that feels less theoretical and more practical the longer I live with it. Where might you be applying extra effort, explanation, or hesitation to something that’s already clear enough to act on? I'm not talking as a self-critique, rather as an honest inventory. Because when you strip away the noise, most of us already know what the next step is. The work, more often than not, is trusting that knowing, choosing cleanly, and allowing momentum to take over once the decision is made.

That’s the kind of clarity that doesn’t arrive through force or overthinking. It shows up when attention sharpens, responsibility stays intact, and action finally has a direction to follow.

About Deevo

Deevo is a brand strategist, keynote speaker, and professional pattern-noticer who helps leaders and founders simplify who they are, clarify what they do, and communicate it with accuracy. His work lives at the intersection of identity, decision-making, and practical clarity, and his favorite questions tend to surface where people have been quietly circling instead of choosing.

If this reflection resonated, feel free to reply and share where life feels heavier than it needs to be right now. I read every response.