I am pretty embroiled in moving on and moving forward with

The words of Andy Summers — “I am pretty embroiled in moving on and moving forward with music.” — are the cry of an artist whose life is a river, never stagnant, always flowing. They speak to the truth that art, like the soul itself, cannot remain still. To create is to journey, to wander ever forward into the unknown, leaving behind the shores of the past. Summers, once bound in the storm and glory of The Police, knew that the spirit must not linger too long upon past triumphs. To remain is to wither; to move forward is to live.

In these words, we see the eternal rhythm of renewal. To be embroiled is to be entangled, immersed, consumed by the struggle of transformation. Summers did not speak of calm passage, but of the turmoil that comes with breaking old skin and seeking new horizons. Every artist, every seeker, every soul who dares to grow must pass through such a furnace: the fire of change, the wrestling with one’s own past, the trembling leap into an unwritten future.

The ancients understood this. Consider Homer’s Odysseus, who after war’s end did not rest upon his laurels but was cast upon the sea, compelled to move on, forced to seek new lands and endure new trials. His journey was not ease but ordeal, yet in that very journey lay his truth and his transformation. So too with Summers, who did not cling to the fame of a band already enshrined in history, but pressed into the unknown waters of his own music, reshaping himself, enduring the uncertainty, and finding new voice.

History also tells of Beethoven, who when struck with deafness might have surrendered to despair. Yet instead of retreating, he moved forward with unyielding will, composing symphonies that touched eternity, though he himself could not hear their sound. His greatness lay not in comfort but in his refusal to stop. His life, like Summers’ words, teaches that to be devoted to music — or to any calling — is to walk forward even when the path is bitter, to wrestle with fate until one emerges stronger, truer, more luminous.

Summers’ statement is more than personal; it is universal. For every human heart must learn the art of moving on. The past may tempt us — with memories of glories or wounds, with echoes of songs already sung. Yet to remain in that past is to dwell among shadows. To move forward is to choose life, to take up one’s instrument — whether of strings, of labor, of words, of love — and continue the great song of existence.

The lesson is plain: let go of the old chapters, even the beautiful ones, for new ones await. When change stirs in your soul, do not resist its call. Embrace the turmoil of transformation, the “embroilment” Summers names, for in that struggle lies rebirth. Ask yourself daily: what am I clinging to that no longer gives life? What music awaits if I only dare to move forward?

Practical wisdom follows. Begin anew in small steps. Take up a new skill, begin a new project, or return to an old passion with fresh eyes. Write down the burdens of the past, and then set them aside as one lays down worn garments. Seek growth not in nostalgia but in creation. For the spirit, like music, must always evolve, always press forward, always rise into new harmony.

Thus the words of Andy Summers endure as a gentle yet firm teaching: to be truly alive is to be always in motion, to be unafraid of change, to be embroiled in the sacred task of becoming. Hold fast to this truth: move on, move forward, and let your life, like music, never cease to unfold.