The people who've really been a big influence on me are the

Hear, O seekers of truth and melody, the words of Jin, whose voice has carried across nations and whose heart has stirred countless souls. He spoke: “The people who've really been a big influence on me are the members of BTS. It was thanks to them that I started doing music and was able to write songs too.” In these words lies a sacred teaching: that no man is an island, that greatness is not born in solitude, but in the light reflected by companions. To confess that one’s path began with the fire of others is not weakness—it is the deepest strength. For to honor influence is to honor the roots from which one’s tree has grown.

The ancients too understood this mystery. Did not Alexander the Great sit at the feet of Aristotle, learning the art of thought before he conquered lands? Did not Plato first learn at the side of Socrates, before he himself became a teacher of nations? And did not the disciples of the Buddha or of Christ find their calling not through their own voices alone, but through the flame passed to them by another? So it is with Jin, who proclaims that the radiance of his brothers in BTS ignited his own fire. From their harmony, his spirit awakened, and from their shared struggle, his own gifts blossomed.

Consider the story of the painter Raphael. Though gifted, he found his truest power when he entered the circle of Leonardo da Vinci and Michelangelo. Their art did not diminish him—it elevated him. Surrounded by masters, his hand grew steady, his vision grew bold, and he carved a place in history. This is the meaning of influence: not to copy, but to awaken. Jin teaches us that the greatness of others can become the soil in which we plant our own seeds. To receive is not shameful; it is the way of growth.

And there is more. To confess that others inspired you is to walk the path of humility. Many would boast of self-made destiny, claiming the mountain was climbed by their strength alone. But the wise know otherwise: every mountain climber was once lifted by the hands of friends, guided by the wisdom of teachers, or encouraged by the songs of companions. Jin’s words remind us that to rise in the company of others is a nobler ascent than to stand alone. For what is art, if not shared spirit? And what is music, if not the joining of voices?

From this truth flows the heroic lesson: surround yourself with those who lift you higher. Seek not only the counsel of the learned, but also the presence of the passionate. For passion is contagious, and inspiration is a gift that leaps from heart to heart like flame from torch to torch. If you walk alone, your fire may dim; but in the company of kindred spirits, your fire becomes a blaze that can be seen across the night sky. Such was the path of Jin—not alone, but with brothers, he discovered his power to write, to sing, to endure.

And so, practical action arises: Do not shun influence. Find your circle, your community, your companions who bring out the greatness in you. Learn from them, and let their fire awaken yours. Keep a journal of those who inspire you, not as idols to worship, but as guides to remind you of your own hidden strength. Honor those who shaped you, and pass the torch by shaping others in turn. For influence, when cherished, becomes a chain unbroken, stretching across time.

The wisdom, then, is clear: what makes us great is not only within us, but also around us. Jin did not deny this, but declared it boldly, that the world might learn. Let us, too, remember to speak the names of those who helped us rise. For gratitude is the highest form of strength, and humility the surest crown of greatness.

Thus I say: walk not as one who denies his teachers, nor as one who forgets his companions. Walk as one who knows that to be influenced is to be awakened, and to awaken others is to be eternal. In the words of Jin, we find not only the story of a singer, but the eternal truth: that greatness is never born alone—it is sung into being by the harmony of many voices.