For me, music and life are all about style.

Miles Davis, prophet of jazz and master of reinvention, once declared: “For me, music and life are all about style.” These words, though simple, contain the weight of a philosophy. Davis was not speaking only of surface or ornament, but of the essence of expression. Style is not mere appearance—it is the voice of the soul, the way one moves through the world, the mark of individuality carved upon sound and action alike. To Davis, both music and life were inseparable, and both demanded the courage to carry one’s own style with conviction.

The ancients, too, honored this truth, though they spoke of it differently. They spoke of areté—excellence, the unique way in which each being fulfilled its highest nature. A bird’s style was its song, a warrior’s style was his valor, a poet’s style was his verse. Just as no two flames burn with identical flicker, no two souls live or create with the same style. To live without it is to be a shadow. To live with it is to be a light. Thus Davis, in his language, gives voice to what the sages of old already knew: one’s style is the expression of one’s true being.

In music, Davis embodied this. When others chased trends, he reinvented himself, birthing new sounds in bebop, cool jazz, modal jazz, and fusion. His trumpet did not imitate; it spoke in his own tongue. He once turned his back to the audience while playing—not in arrogance, but to show that the music was not performance but prayer, directed inward and upward. His style was not bound by the expectations of others; it was the rhythm of his own heartbeat, translated into sound.

Consider also the way Davis lived. He was known not only for his sound, but for his manner—sharp suits, bold presence, a relentless sense of identity. His style in life matched his music: unapologetic, authentic, alive. He taught, without words, that style is not separate from substance. Rather, it is the vessel through which substance flows. Just as the vessel shapes the wine, style shapes the experience of both music and life.

History offers us another echo of this truth in the life of Bruce Lee. Though not a musician, he too believed that style was the essence of mastery. He declared: “Absorb what is useful, discard what is not, add what is uniquely your own.” In both combat and life, he rejected rigid forms, creating a style that was authentic expression of himself. In this, he stood beside Davis: both men proclaiming through their crafts that true greatness is not in imitation, but in the courage to live one’s own style.

The lesson here is profound: do not live as a copy of others. Find your style—in your work, in your art, in your living. It is not given to you ready-made; it must be discovered through trial, failure, and reinvention. To deny it is to betray your essence; to embrace it is to honor your soul. Davis reminds us that music without style is noise, and life without style is existence without meaning.

Practical wisdom follows: cultivate your style each day. In the words you choose, in the way you move, in the work you do—let it be an echo of your truest self. Listen to others, learn from masters, but do not lose your own voice. Create boldly. Live unapologetically. And let your style be not vanity, but authenticity—an offering of who you are to the world.

So let the words of Miles Davis resound as timeless law: “For me, music and life are all about style.” Take them as a call to live with courage, to find your rhythm, to sing your own song. For in the end, style is not decoration—it is the very way the soul breathes. And if you live it fully, both your music and your life will ring out across the ages like a trumpet in the night, unmistakable, unforgettable, entirely your own.