I have absorbed my life now. I am ready for my music to unfold.

The words of Neneh Cherry burn with urgency and devotion: “I have absorbed my life now. I am ready for my music to unfold. I know time flies, but before the end of this year, the album will be out. Even if it kills me.” This is no mere statement of artistic intent—it is a testament to the fire that drives the soul of the creator. It speaks of the moment when one has gathered the fragments of their journey, the wounds, the joys, the silences, and decides at last to give them voice. For music is not born only of talent—it is born of life absorbed, transformed, and released into the world.

The ancients often taught that art is not created lightly; it is carved from the marrow of the soul. A poet cannot sing without first having lived. A sculptor cannot shape stone without first wrestling with his own heart. So too Cherry confesses: “I have absorbed my life now.” This is the preparation, the gathering of experience, the distillation of years into truth. Only then can the unfolding begin. To unfold is to reveal what was hidden, to open the inner chamber of the spirit and let the world behold what has been forming in silence.

Her words also speak of time, that relentless river that carries all away. “I know time flies,” she says, and with this, she touches on the ancient anxiety that life may pass before one fulfills their calling. Time is both ally and enemy—it gives the space for growth, yet it threatens to run out before the work is complete. The vow, “before the end of this year, the album will be out,” is a declaration of defiance against time itself: that even if the days are fleeting, the creation will come forth.

History offers us many who lived in this same spirit. Consider Beethoven, nearly deaf, yet refusing to surrender to silence. He absorbed his pain, his isolation, his struggle with fate, and from it unfolded symphonies that thunder across centuries. It is said he declared, “I will seize fate by the throat.” This mirrors Cherry’s vow: “Even if it kills me.” For true creation is not comfortable. It demands sacrifice. It consumes. But it is through that very sacrifice that the immortal work is born.

There is a heroism in this devotion. To risk everything—health, comfort, even life itself—for the sake of bringing forth one’s truth is the path of the artist, the prophet, the visionary. It is a path the world may not understand, for the world often values safety more than passion. Yet those who dare, like Cherry, stand in a lineage of souls who chose to create no matter the cost. Their legacy teaches us that it is better to die having spoken than to live in silence.

O listener, take this lesson deeply: to create, you must first absorb your life. Do not despise your struggles, your delays, your silences—for they are the soil from which your art will grow. But when the time comes, do not hesitate. For time flies, and opportunities vanish like mist. When your spirit cries out that it is ready to unfold, seize the moment, even if it demands all of you. For in giving all, you gain eternity.

Practical wisdom follows: do not wait for perfect conditions to create. There will always be fear, there will always be obstacles, there will always be the temptation to delay. Instead, set yourself a vow, as Cherry did, and hold yourself to it. Pour your heart into the work, even if it feels like it will consume you. For the truth is this: the cost of creation is heavy, but the cost of silence is heavier still.

Thus, remember Neneh Cherry’s words: creation is life absorbed and life unfolded. Time is fleeting, but the work you give to the world outlives you. Do not shrink from the fire of sacrifice—embrace it. For to create, even if it kills you, is to live more fully than those who never dare to unfold their truth.