Singing is my life. It has always been my life. It will always be

The words of Celia Cruz, “Singing is my life. It has always been my life. It will always be my life,” rise like a hymn of devotion, simple yet eternal, echoing the voice of one who gave her entire soul to her art. In these words we hear not mere profession, but consecration. For Celia did not treat singing as a craft to be picked up and laid down—she embraced it as the very essence of her being, the lifeblood that flowed through every season of her existence. To her, singing was not just what she did; it was who she was.

To say “it has always been my life” is to acknowledge destiny—an unbroken thread stretching from the first note sung in youth to the last note carried into eternity. For Celia Cruz, born in Cuba and later known as the Queen of Salsa, music was not only an art form but also a bridge across exile, loss, and triumph. Even when torn from her homeland, her voice carried the spirit of her people, keeping memory alive through rhythm and song. In such a life, art is not accessory—it is identity, it is survival, it is legacy.

The ancients understood this devotion well. The Greek poets believed the muses breathed their gifts into chosen souls, binding them to their art forever. For Homer, it was epic verse; for Orpheus, song itself, capable of moving even the stones. Such was Celia’s gift: a voice that transcended borders, a song that stirred the heart of all who heard. When she declared that singing would always be her life, she stood in the lineage of those who bore divine fire—unable to lay it down, even if they wished.

History offers kindred spirits. Think of Ludwig van Beethoven, who, though struck by the cruel fate of deafness, refused to abandon music. He composed with ears that could no longer hear, proving that his art was not external but eternal, rooted in the soul itself. So too with Celia Cruz—through triumph and exile, through the applause of crowds and the silence of absence, her song endured. In her life, we see the truth of her words: passion that becomes identity cannot die.

The heart of her teaching is this: life without passion is existence without song. To find that which ignites your soul—to embrace it wholly, to weave it into every fiber of your being—is to live fully. For some it is music, for others craft, service, or knowledge. But whatever it may be, the devotion must be complete. Celia’s words remind us that true greatness arises not from fleeting interest, but from unyielding dedication across the span of a lifetime.

The lesson for us is clear: discover your own song—that work or calling which makes you feel most alive—and hold fast to it. Do not treat it as a pastime, to be pursued only when convenient. Let it shape you, sustain you, and speak through you. For in such devotion lies not only personal fulfillment but also the power to inspire others, just as Celia’s singing continues to inspire generations long after her final note was sung.

Practical actions follow. Reflect deeply upon what stirs your heart. Nurture it daily, as Celia nurtured her voice, with discipline, love, and joy. When hardships come, do not abandon it, but let it carry you through the storms. Share it with others, for passion unshared withers, but passion expressed multiplies. And above all, let your devotion endure, so that at the end of your days you may say, like Celia Cruz, that your passion was not fleeting, but eternal.

Thus her words endure as a song without end: “Singing is my life. It has always been my life. It will always be my life.” Let them remind us that to live with such devotion is to live with fire, to turn existence into music, and to leave behind not only a memory, but a melody that echoes through time.