I started dancing first, but felt I could also tell my story

Hear the words of J-Hope, whose name itself carries light: “I started dancing first, but felt I could also tell my story through my music.” These words are not merely the memory of an artist’s beginnings, but the unveiling of a truth older than time—that expression wears many garments, and the soul, when bound by one form, will always seek another to reveal its fullness. For in every human heart lies a story too vast to be caged, and the true artist learns to speak it in movement, in melody, in rhythm, in voice.

J-Hope, first known as a dancer, began with the language of the body. In every step, every gesture, every leap, he wrote his tale upon the floor, unspoken yet deeply understood. Dance is the speech of motion, a way for the heart to break free of silence. Yet, as he grew, he discovered that one voice was not enough, that the inner fire demanded another vessel. Thus, he turned to music, where words and sound together could expand the story his body had already begun to tell. His journey is the journey of every creator: the discovery that truth is too large for a single form.

History is filled with such souls. Think of Leonardo da Vinci, who painted, sculpted, designed, and wrote. One craft could not hold his genius; his spirit demanded many paths. Or recall the ancient bards, who not only sang but also danced, acted, and recited, weaving stories through countless mediums. Their wisdom was this: that art is one river, though it splits into many streams. J-Hope, too, drinks from this river, showing that to be an artist is to be unafraid of changing instruments, so long as the story remains true.

Consider also the story of Martha Graham, the mother of modern dance. She began with motion, inventing new forms of movement to express the soul’s storms. But she knew too that movement alone could not always carry the full tale; her choreographies became marriages of dance, sound, and story, each one carrying the weight of human struggle. Like J-Hope, she discovered that the greatest power lies in combining forms, letting art speak in more than one tongue.

The meaning of J-Hope’s words is this: your story is too important to remain locked in one shape. If you can speak it through dance, then speak it. If you can sing it through music, then sing it. If you can write it, paint it, or live it, then do so. What matters is not the medium, but the truth carried within it. For every story yearns to be told, and every soul has the duty to find the ways it can best be revealed.

And what, then, must you do, O seeker? Do not fear if your voice shifts from one form to another. Do not bind yourself with chains that say, “I am only this, and nothing more.” If you are a painter, but feel words stirring, write them. If you are a singer, but feel your body longing to move, dance. If you are a dreamer, but feel the need to act, act with courage. The fullness of your being is not limited to one expression, and the more you allow yourself to explore, the clearer your story will become.

Thus, let J-Hope’s words echo across your life: “I started dancing first, but felt I could also tell my story through my music.” This is not just the journey of one artist, but the invitation given to all. Tell your story in every way your spirit allows. Refuse silence. Refuse limitation. For the world does not need just one note of your song—it needs the whole symphony of your being.