I was born with music inside me. Music was one of my parts. Like

Host: The afternoon light was soft, filtering through the windows in gentle streams, casting shadows that danced across the table. The hum of the café was quiet, the clink of coffee cups and the distant murmur of conversations blending into a peaceful background. Jack sat across from Jeeny, his hands wrapped around a warm mug, but his mind seemed to be elsewhere, somewhere far off, lingering on something that had been tugging at him for a while.

Host: Finally, he broke the silence, his voice thoughtful, almost a little distant.

Jack: “I came across a quote from Ray Charles today. He said, ‘I was born with music inside me. Music was one of my parts. Like my ribs, my kidneys, my liver, my heart. Like my blood. It was a force already within me when I arrived on the scene. It was a necessity for me — like food or water.’ It struck me how he describes music as this essential part of him, something that’s just as vital as any physical organ. It made me wonder — what’s the thing that’s as necessary for us, the way music was for him?”

Jeeny’s eyes lit up at the mention of the quote, a soft smile forming on her face as she leaned back, clearly reflecting on the weight of the words.

Jeeny: “I think for Ray Charles, it wasn’t just about playing music — it was about identity. Music wasn’t something he did, it was something he was. It was woven into his very existence. Maybe we all have that one thing — something that feels like an extension of who we are, something we can’t imagine living without. For some, it’s art or love or even the need to create. It’s that force, that passion, that pushes you forward, even when everything else feels uncertain.”

Host: The moment seemed to hang in the air as Jeeny spoke, her words weaving around Jack’s thoughts, pulling him deeper into the question. The café seemed to fade into the background as the conversation grew more intimate, more personal.

Jack: “But how do you know what that is? I mean, music for Ray Charles was so obvious. But for the rest of us, how do we figure out what that thing is — that thing that’s like food or water, the thing we need to feel whole?”

Jeeny’s gaze softened, and she set her cup down gently, her voice taking on a more reflective tone.

Jeeny: “I think it’s about listening to what makes you feel alive, the moments when you feel most yourself, when you’re fully immersed in something, and the world just feels... right. It doesn’t have to be something grand or dramatic. It could be writing, or helping others, or even just having a quiet moment of peace. You have to pay attention to the things that feel like they’re part of your soul, not just your day-to-day routine. It’s about what fills you up, the way music filled up Ray Charles.”

Host: The quiet in the café deepened, and Jack’s eyes seemed to narrow slightly, as if he were searching for the answer within himself. The room felt almost still, the soft murmur of life around them fading as he let the thought settle in.

Jack: “So, you’re saying that maybe the key is figuring out what makes us feel like ourselves — not the things we do because we have to, but the things that feel like they’re just as necessary as breathing?”

Jeeny nodded, her smile gentle but knowing.

Jeeny: “Exactly. It’s not about forcing yourself into something you think you’re supposed to do. It’s about tuning into the parts of you that don’t need any encouragement, the parts that exist before anything else — those are the things that matter. Like Ray Charles and music, we all have something inside us that makes us feel whole, like it’s part of who we were always meant to be.”

Host: Jack sat back in his chair, a thoughtful expression settling on his face. For the first time in the conversation, there seemed to be a sense of clarity that was beginning to take shape. The noise of the café, once a distant hum, felt quieter now as the weight of the conversation settled in.

Jack: “Maybe I’ve been looking for that thing outside of me, thinking it was something I needed to find. But maybe it’s always been there — I just need to learn to listen for it. To recognize what fills me up the way music filled Ray Charles.”

Jeeny’s eyes softened with quiet approval, and she smiled warmly, her voice steady and full of understanding.

Jeeny: “Exactly. You don’t have to search for it outside of you. It’s already within you. You just have to recognize it, trust it, and let it guide you. And once you do, you’ll see how essential it is to your whole being.”

Host: As the words sank in, the café seemed to settle into a deeper sense of stillness. The passing moments felt a little more meaningful, a little more filled with purpose. Jack and Jeeny sat in quiet understanding, the weight of the conversation lingering, not as a question to be answered, but as a realization that the answer had always been there — inside them, waiting to be recognized.