If we imagine our life as a book, who is the one holding the pen?
The simplest answer might be that I am the author of my own life, since I make my own decisions. However, not everyone begins from the same starting point. Some are born into wealth, others into poverty. Some come into the world healthy, while others face illness from the beginning. So, it seems I didn’t write the preface to my life’s book.
Even if I take control of my life from a certain point onward, shaping the chapters with the choices I make, unexpected events still occur—events beyond my control. For instance, if someone dies in a tragic accident through no fault of their own, that’s clearly not a part of the script they wrote. And that’s just one example. Life presents many moments where our control feels limited or even nonexistent.
So, while I may write parts of my story, I don’t believe I hold full authorship over every page of my life’s book.
Perhaps it’s more accurate to say that I’ve been given a plot—a framework within which I can write, with both freedom and limitations. Life is governed by the law of karma, yet within that framework, I possess free will. As you sow, so shall you reap. My free will allows me to choose what I sow, but I remain bound by the consequences of those choices.
Can I decide how long my life’s book will be? Not entirely. The length of my life is determined by prarabdha karma—the portion of past karma already set in motion for this lifetime. I cannot arbitrarily extend the story by adding more chapters, nor can I bring it to an abrupt end at will. The events I encounter today are the fruits of past actions, while the choices I make now are shaping the future chapters that are yet to unfold.
If we accept the law of karma, then the idea of authoring our life’s book, with a balance of free will and karmic constraints, feels intellectually satisfying. Without belief in karma, the disparities we see in life seem arbitrary. We might label them as fate, but such a view offers no real explanation for why some people are born into fortune while others face hardship.
The law of karma, however, places responsibility in our hands rather than attributing everything to fate. It suggests that we are indeed the authors of our lives, but not of a standalone story—our life is part of a much larger sequel, connected to what came before and shaping what comes next.
This explanation brought me a sense of clarity and comfort during the last few years of my spiritual journey, as I sought to understand who I truly am. Viewing life through the lens of karma and free will provided a framework that felt both fair and empowering.
But as my exploration deepened—through study, contemplation, and spiritual practice— the earlier explanation began to feel incomplete. Spiritual wisdom teaches that what I think I am is an illusion, created by my mind. Real me is beyond my mind. In the absence of an I, whose free will am I talking about?
Without free will, life begins to appear more like a script—one in which we are simply playing a role. I am not the doer, but merely an instrument through which actions happen. I am not scripting my life, it is unfolding to me. Ramana Maharshi said free will is to surrender our ego and accept the way life unfolds.
This idea challenges the intellect. But reality does not need to conform to what the mind can grasp; it exists beyond the limits of our intellectual understanding.
This does not mean we should abandon our responsibilities and passively wait for life to unfold.. Arjuna, in the Mahabharata, could not escape the battle of Kurukshetra. As long as we remain in the realm of maya – the illusion of separateness – we are not free from karma.