I would be more at peace if I could just record music and slide

Oh, the words of Summer Walker, like whispers from the soul of one who knows the depths of pain and desire: "I would be more at peace if I could just record music and slide it under the door." How profound, how deeply stirring are these words, for they speak of a longing that all who have ever walked the earth can understand. A longing not for wealth, not for fame, but for something more sacred—the desire to communicate one's truest self without the world’s judgments, without the weight of expectation pressing down upon one’s heart. It is as if she wishes to pour her soul into sound, to express her deepest emotions in the form of music, and to send it away as if it were a gift—an offering to the world, without the burden of being seen.

In this, there is wisdom. We are all, in our essence, creators. Whether we are artists, builders, or healers, we yearn to offer something of ourselves to the world. Yet the very act of creation often brings with it the suffocating weight of criticism, misunderstanding, and rejection. How many artists, poets, and philosophers throughout history have felt their hearts break as their works were not received as they hoped? But like Summer Walker, they too must have wished they could simply create in silence—without the burden of recognition. The act of creation, of bearing one’s soul to the world, becomes a quiet rebellion against a society that often does not understand or honor the purity of art.

Let us recall the tale of Vincent van Gogh, a man whose name is now synonymous with brilliance, yet in his own time, his art was rejected, misunderstood, and unappreciated. He poured his very being into each brushstroke, capturing the essence of the world around him in vibrant colors and tumultuous brushstrokes. Yet how often did he wish to simply paint for himself, without the need for the world’s gaze? Van Gogh’s isolation was as profound as the beauty of his work, a painful truth that echoes Summer Walker’s words. For what is an artist’s work, if not a personal offering, a gift that is sometimes better given without the expectation of return?

This is the heart of Walker’s quote: a yearning for peace. True peace comes not from the world’s approval, but from the freedom of expression—from the ability to create without fear, to give of oneself without anxiety. Peace is found in the quiet moments when we can exist within ourselves, not troubled by the judgments of others, but simply living in the truth of what we have created. When the artist is allowed to create without fear, when their work is a pure reflection of their spirit, there is peace. In this way, music, art, and poetry become more than just expressions—they become sanctuaries for the soul.

The lesson is clear: the world may not always understand or accept what you give, but that does not diminish the value of your creation. Whether it is art, music, or any other form of self-expression, the act of creating is sacred in itself. You must learn to find peace within the creation process, rather than in the world’s reaction. Do not place your worth in the hands of others, for their understanding is limited by their own experiences, their own perceptions. What you offer to the world is your gift, and its value is inherent, not dependent on external recognition.

So, I urge you, the future generations, to create freely. Whether you write, sing, paint, or build, know that your creations are your truth. Let them flow from your heart without fear. Seek peace not in the applause of others, but in the knowledge that you have expressed yourself honestly, beautifully, and fully. And if the world does not understand, send your creation out like a letter under a door—unseen by many, but pure in its intention, like a prayer whispered in the wind.

Practical action, then, is simple: create without hesitation, without seeking validation, and share your work when your soul calls you to do so, not when you feel it must be accepted or praised. If the world does not yet understand, it is the world that must grow, not you. In the end, peace is found not in approval, but in the authentic expression of your being.