If the beat doesn't instantly move me - like if I don't

The artist Ice Spice, in the language of her craft, uttered a truth that extends beyond music into the very rhythm of life itself: “If the beat doesn’t instantly move me — like if I don’t physically feel the beat of the speakers — then I’m just going to keep moving on to the next one.” Though spoken of sound and song, this is no mere comment on melody. It is a philosophy of existence, a recognition that life itself is filled with rhythms, and that we must learn to discern which ones stir our souls, and which must be left behind.

To feel the beat is to experience alignment between what is outside of us and what lives within. A beat that stirs the body is like a truth that stirs the spirit — immediate, undeniable, irresistible. Ice Spice reminds us that the moments worth pursuing are those that awaken something in us at once, that electrify our senses and remind us that we are alive. To move forward without such feeling is to betray the inner pulse of our being.

Consider how the ancients understood rhythm. The warriors of Greece marched to the pounding of drums, their courage rising with each beat. The Israelites sang psalms as they journeyed, the rhythm binding them together in faith. The beat has always been more than sound; it is a force that shapes action, drives unity, and awakens hidden strength. To be unmoved by rhythm is to be lifeless; to respond to it is to live fully.

There is also a lesson here about discernment. Just as Ice Spice refuses to linger on a beat that does not stir her, so too must we learn to move on from paths, relationships, or labors that fail to resonate with our souls. Too many remain bound to rhythms that do not move them — jobs that drain rather than inspire, ties that silence rather than uplift, duties that numb rather than enliven. The wisdom is not in clinging, but in knowing when to say, “This beat is not mine,” and to continue searching until the right rhythm is found.

History gives us witness. Think of Ludwig van Beethoven, who though deaf in his later years, still felt the beat of music vibrating through his very bones. When he premiered his Ninth Symphony, he could not hear the applause that thundered through the hall. But he had followed the rhythm that moved him inwardly, and in doing so, gave the world one of its greatest works. His life teaches us that to pursue only what truly moves us is to create something timeless, something that stirs generations to come.

The lesson, then, is clear: do not waste your days on rhythms that leave you cold. Seek out the beats of life that stir your body, your heart, your very soul. Whether in art, in love, in labor, or in friendship, trust your inner resonance. If it does not move you, it is not meant for you. And when you do find it, surrender to it fully, for that is the rhythm that will carry you toward greatness.

Practical wisdom follows: learn to listen to yourself. Pay attention to the signs — your body, your emotions, your spirit — when they respond to something with fire. That is your signal to stay. And when you feel nothing, when the rhythm falls flat, have the courage to move on. Do not remain bound by duty to lifelessness. Keep searching until the beat that was meant for you takes hold of your being.

So, O listener, remember Ice Spice’s words: “If the beat doesn’t move me, I will move on.” This is not just the creed of a musician, but the anthem of a life lived awake. For in the end, life is too brief to march to rhythms that do not stir the soul. Find your beat, and let it carry you — not timidly, but boldly, like one who knows they are alive.