I think music is something that can, and should, be used to get

Beyoncé Knowles, in her wisdom, once declared: “I think music is something that can, and should, be used to get you into different things because eventually what goes up must come down—we’re not going to be the number one group in the world forever—so you have to have something else to fall back on.” These words are not merely the musings of an artist at the height of her glory. They are a lesson spoken in humility, in foresight, and in truth eternal. For the ancients also knew: no crown shines forever, no flame burns without limit. All things rise, and all things fall. Thus the wise prepare, not only for triumph, but also for the season when triumph fades.

Her words speak of the rise and fall that governs all of life. The Greeks told of Icarus, who soared too close to the sun and was cast into the sea. The Romans remembered their empire, which reached to the ends of the earth, yet fell into ruin. So too with every artist, every warrior, every empire: what climbs to the heights must someday descend. Beyoncé does not speak in despair but in wisdom, urging us not to cling blindly to the peak, but to plant seeds in the valley that follows.

Yet, in her teaching, there is also vision. She reminds us that music—or whatever craft we hold—is not a cage, but a gateway. It can open doors, create paths into new realms of purpose, and build foundations beyond the fleeting moment of fame. The artist who sings today may become the builder, the teacher, the leader tomorrow. Just as the warrior of one age becomes the sage of the next, so the singer may transform her gifts into something that endures when the applause has faded.

Consider the tale of Marcus Aurelius, emperor of Rome. He stood at the pinnacle of power, the ruler of legions and nations. Yet he knew that glory was dust, that emperors too must fall. Therefore he trained his mind in philosophy, the discipline of the soul. When power waned, his words endured, carved into the ages as the Meditations. He did not rely on his throne alone; he built another throne within his spirit. In this, he obeyed the wisdom Beyoncé now shares: prepare always for what follows the summit, and carry with you something deeper than acclaim.

The danger of ignoring this truth is clear. Many have been consumed by their moment at the top, believing the crown eternal. Yet when the crown slipped, they fell with it, lost and broken, for they had no other ground to stand on. Beyoncé’s words shine as warning: even the brightest star must one day set, and the artist who clings only to fame will vanish into shadow. But the one who prepares—who uses their art as a bridge to new lands—will endure even when the first glory fades.

For you, listener, the lesson is plain: do not bind your destiny to one peak alone. Cultivate many fields. If your strength is in song, let it open paths to wisdom, to craft, to service, to love. If your work brings you honor, let it also build skills that remain when honor passes. Do not fear the decline, for it is natural—but let it not find you unready. Always hold in your hands more than one gift, so that when one slips away, another carries you forward.

Practical actions follow: take stock of your life. Ask yourself—what are my gifts, and how can they build bridges to other places? Do not rest only on what brings applause today. Learn, grow, invest in the unseen. Seek wisdom beyond skill, character beyond success, foundations beyond the moment. In this way, when the tide turns—and it always will—you will not be swept away, but will stand firm, ready for the next chapter of your journey.

So let Beyoncé’s words be carried as an eternal law: what rises must fall, but the wise rise again in new forms. Use your art, your work, your strength not as the end, but as the beginning. In this way, you will live not only for the fleeting heights, but for the enduring legacy that outlives the heights themselves. For crowns slip, and fame fades, but wisdom prepares, and preparation endures forever.