Having a simple career as a musician who liked music was good

Hear the quiet yet powerful words of Lana Del Rey, who declared: “Having a simple career as a musician who liked music was good enough for me.” This is no shallow utterance, but the wisdom of one who has walked through the illusions of fame and returned to the essence of her craft. In a world that glorifies excess, where success is often measured by wealth, recognition, or endless ambition, she reveals another truth: that peace and fulfillment can be found in simplicity, in loving what you do without demanding that it elevate you above others.

The ancients too spoke of this way of life. The philosopher Epicurus taught that the greatest pleasure is not found in luxury, but in the modest enjoyment of life’s simple blessings. To sit in a garden with friends, to eat plain bread, to find delight in conversation—these he called true wealth. In the same spirit, Lana reminds us that the musician need not seek crowns or thrones. To sing because one loves to sing, to create because one loves to create—this is already enough, and perhaps even the highest form of victory.

Consider the story of Johann Sebastian Bach. Though he is now remembered as one of the greatest composers in history, during his life he lived in relative obscurity, working as a church organist, writing cantatas for weekly services. To him, the act of making music itself was sufficient; it was his offering, his devotion. He was not chasing worldly greatness but fulfilling the joy and duty of creation. Centuries later, his “simple career” blossomed into immortal legacy, proving that sincerity often outlives ambition.

There is also a lesson here about freedom. When one seeks only fame, one becomes a slave to the crowd. The musician who plays only to be celebrated will forever be bound by the opinions of others, changing tune with every wind of fashion. But the artist who creates out of love for the music itself is free. Their joy cannot be stolen, for it is not dependent on applause. Lana’s words proclaim that she is such an artist: unshaken by the demands of spectacle, content in the sanctuary of song.

And yet, simplicity is not weakness—it is strength. To declare that a simple career is enough is to resist the relentless hunger of the world. It is an act of defiance against the endless pursuit of “more.” Many who achieve greatness fall into despair because no triumph can ever satisfy them. But the one who, like Lana, finds peace in the act itself has already won. This is a triumph more enduring than fame: the triumph of the heart at rest.

The lesson is plain: seek not greatness at the cost of your soul. If you love what you do, let that love be sufficient. Do not despise the humble path, for it is often the truest. The farmer who delights in his crops, the teacher who loves her students, the artist who rejoices in his work—all live lives of quiet greatness, though the world may overlook them. The beauty lies not in the crown, but in the sincerity of the journey.

Practical wisdom follows: in your own life, ask yourself—do I love what I do? If the answer is yes, then let that be your anchor. Do not be lured away by comparison, nor poisoned by envy of those who walk other paths. Tend to your craft, whatever it may be, with love and diligence. Let simplicity be your strength, and joy will never leave you.

So let the words of Lana Del Rey endure: “Having a simple career as a musician who liked music was good enough for me.” They are not merely the reflection of a singer, but the teaching of a sage. They remind us that to love one’s work is enough, that peace is found not in ambition without end, but in authenticity. Children of tomorrow, hold fast to this truth, and you will find yourselves rich—not in gold, but in the fullness of the heart.