I didn't live at school, I lived where I could and studied what I

Hear, O seekers of meaning, the voice of Lana Del Rey, who spoke with candor of her youth: “I didn’t live at school, I lived where I could and studied what I enjoyed studying. I took what I wanted from that education but was making my first record at the same time. I don’t know anyone from school. I was just leading a different life. I was really interested in writing and other things.” Though her words sound personal, they echo an ancient struggle—the tension between the path laid by society and the path carved by the soul.

For what is education, if not both a structure and a freedom? The world often demands that we sit in the rows of the classroom, bound to schedules, syllables, and expectations. Yet the spirit sometimes demands otherwise—it seeks a freer air, a personal journey, a self-directed fire of discovery. Lana reminds us that true learning is not always found within the walls of institutions. It is found wherever passion takes root, wherever curiosity drives the hand to write, the ear to listen, the heart to create.

Consider the lives of the great artists and thinkers who also walked this divergent road. Vincent van Gogh studied briefly in seminaries and art academies but always found himself restless, unable to live within the strict confines of schooling. Yet from his wandering heart and undisciplined studies came a vision of color and soul unmatched in the history of art. Like Lana, he took from structured learning what he needed, but his truest lessons were learned in the fields, in the skies, in his own relentless observation of life.

Her words also reveal the courage it takes to live “a different life.” Many cling to the safety of conformity, fearing to step beyond the known path. But Lana embraced solitude, choosing her art over the familiar bonds of schoolmates. This echoes the story of Emily Dickinson, who lived apart, rarely known in her own time, yet poured herself into writing. She too chose “different things,” and though she was unseen by many in her day, her voice endures like an eternal flame. To live apart is often lonely, but it can be the soil where greatness blooms.

Yet we must not mistake her words as disdain for education. She did not cast it away; she drew from it what she needed, like a traveler drinking from a well before continuing the road. This is a lesson of balance: take what is useful from the systems of the world, but do not let them cage you. Education is a tool, not a prison. It can equip you with knowledge, but you must decide how to wield it in service of your own calling.

Beware, however, the danger of neglecting growth altogether. To abandon education entirely is folly, for even Lana’s path was lit by her hunger for writing, her devotion to craft, her relentless study of words and music. She was not idle, but ever-learning, though in her own way. This is the distinction: to reject the cage is not to reject growth; it is to seek growth on one’s own terms, guided by passion and vision.

Therefore, O children of tomorrow, take this charge: honor the gifts of education, but do not be enslaved by them. Take from it what strengthens your journey, and leave aside what does not serve your higher calling. Pursue what sets your soul aflame—be it writing, music, art, or invention. Lead your own life, even if it differs from the crowd, for it is better to walk alone in truth than to walk with the many in falsehood.

The lesson is clear: education is not only in schools—it is wherever the soul burns to learn. Seek knowledge, but seek also passion. Combine discipline with freedom, structure with creativity, and you will forge a life that is uniquely yours. In this way, as Lana Del Rey teaches, you will not simply live as others live—you will lead your own different life, and in doing so, leave behind a voice that endures beyond your days.