Like many people entering young adulthood, I didn’t have a clue what I wanted from life or what I wanted to do with it.
I was philosophically inclined to find the idea of Purpose, capital ‘P’, downright terrifying.
In some ways, I envied those who seemingly “knew” what they wanted to be when they grew up, or to whom such existential questions never occurred.
God bless their souls.
Alas, such was not my fate.
So, upon completing my undergraduate degree, what did I do?
I deferred, so to speak. I had aspirations to go teach English abroad in Japan, but found out I had made an error and needed another credit to satisfy graduation requirements.
This was understandably deflating and anticlimactic.
By contrast, the phantasmagoria of Azeroth, a game with its virtual achievements carefully laid out for a compelling blend of intermittent reinforcement and clear progress, was far more enticing than sitting with the existential quandary of my latent human potential. I’ve written about that at some length here.
After eventually emerging from the allure of pixelated baubles, I ended up undergoing some government-assisted soul searching via a career counselling workshop.
While not nearly as glamorous as cavorting with the spirit of one’s innermost knowing, the idea of pursuing music professionally sprouted and blossomed during this time.
The excitement percolating through my being was tempered by the terror of claiming it and speaking it aloud. And then to go about the actual work of ‘turning pro', as Steven Pressfield would call it.
But here was an identity that had legs. For a psyche as slippery as mine was then, able to entertain dozens of paths, each seemingly as appealing as the next, committing to a singular path was a daunting task.
I made the case for myself to myself – I had the background of more than a decade of musical experience, the enduring interest, a taste of accomplishment, the high of performing, the discipline to practice, and the curiosity to continue learning the craft.
I still remember that fateful day when I trembled my way into my dad’s office, wondering if he would approve, fearing the worst. Much to my amazement, he lit up with excitement and encouragement. I remember some of his words then:
“If you don’t do this now, you may wake up at forty and always wonder ‘what if?’”
I’m forty now, and while my relationship with music has evolved over these past couple of decades, I do not regret it. I wrote more about my musical origin story here.
Music has opened doors I never imagined possible. Through music, I’ve experienced some of my greatest joys, traveled the world and connected with remarkable people.
It’s interesting to note that the root of music is muse, and whenever I sit down to play music, it often feels like I have a direct line to inspiration.
For this, I am forever grateful.
While music may not be your particular path, I implore you to cultivate a relationship with your muse in whatever form it takes.
In modern times, we are fortunate to benefit from the work of Mihalyi Csikszentmihalyi, whose life work centered around researching the psychology of optimal experience and coined the term “flow” to denote a particularly noteworthy state. As Kotler and Wheal write in Stealing Fire, flow is a connected state of being that features selflessness, timelessness, effortlessness and sensory richness. Flow is often associated with our most meaningful moments and our greatest achievements.
While music has been an enduring throughline in my life, cultivating flow as an internal compass has been a useful heuristic to existential navigation. In addition to music, yoga, meditation, and martial arts have been perennial wellsprings of flow. And even writing, on rare occasions.
To be clear, the path to flow is often fraught with countless hours of blood, sweat and tears. In order to arrive at effortlessness, much effort is required.
It is decidedly worthwhile.
If you find yourself at a loss, follow your flow.
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