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The Paradox of Finding Your True Purpose

A Journey of Discovering Music and Beating Depression

By Giovanni MedranoPublished 6 years ago 9 min read
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For most of my life I have always wondered, "What am I doing here?" What is the meaning of this existence? This is a succinct summation for the human condition. The necessity of a reason has been a splinter in my psyche leading to a number of ups and downs. Some of us are lucky enough to be exposed to the numerous ideologies in the world such as Nihilism or the various religions to fall back on and explain our existence, but there are always those who are perpetually tortured in not knowing how to live. As far back as I could remember, I felt immense heartache at times and as my childhood progressed, I experienced a few traumatizing events such as a mother suffering from an addiction. Struggling with a kind of depression or even a depressive mindset sets you in a sludge. Through the years, the cycles would become normalized, leading to immense apathy and disdain for existence itself. In my mind, however, there's also a struggle to find a sense of meaning and belonging that says to compromise and to try and find the things that could possibly bring joy not only to myself but others, as well. I wanted to pull myself out of these cycles of immense misanthropy and be useful as well as happy.

One of my main goals is wanting to help people. I wanted to be able to feel like I was a useful part of the ecosystem of the Earth or society as a whole. This way of thinking had initially led me to believe that my purpose was in science. I loved the idea of science. The notion of a person in a lab conducting experiments leading to discoveries that would change the world was a recurring fantasy of mine. In reality, things are much more complex than mixing a few chemicals to cure the world's most deadly viruses. Science requires a heavy amount of calculations and years of ideas being repeatedly tested, something I didn't realize until I took my first major science course in college.

Spending hours in a classroom listening to a monotone professor reviewing so much technical jargon you wished you had gotten a coffee beforehand was the major red flag that helped me understand that maybe science was not the right fit for me. Up until this point, I thought I had the technical ability to excel in something like this. I never thought that what I would do would be the most fun, but at the same time I didn't think that I would dread my future career responsibilities. I hit a rut. This was the lowest point I have ever experienced. Once these feelings set in, my depressive moods would become even darker. Having no purpose and also realizing that what you thought you would do or could do was no longer a viable fit for your own personality was crushing. I was already sensitive to existence due to an extreme sense of loneliness but this was the straw that broke the camel's back. I couldn't come to grips with being so capable of understanding and learning yet unable to see myself being happy doing it. The years I had been working seemed to have been a waste. Not only was I fooling myself but also wasting my limited life. The urges and desires to remove myself from existence coursed through me frequently. There was, however, still a bit of fight left within and I somehow persevered.

My life seemed to spiral further downward after this revelation. My class grades continued to suffer as I drifted further and further away with disinterest. Confused and without any ideas of what to do, I decided to take a break from schooling. Up until this point, I had been at a local community college for about four years with nothing to show for it besides a few more interesting pieces of knowledge from the various courses. I figured I was burnt out from academics and perhaps I should translate my free time into more work at a local fast food place I was working at. This was the worst decision at the time. I hit rock bottom in terms of quality of life. Not only had I felt I failed myself in academics but I now felt like I was going to be stuck in a dead-end job. The work itself required hours in front of a scalding hot wok full of oil used to fry meats and veggies, and every night I would have to endure the intense burn of degreaser within my nicks, cuts, and blisters. This was torture. Combined with everything else at the time, I fell into a deep depression. I had to reconsider life itself and whether it was worth living. My mind raced. I needed to find a meaning for existing. Days would lead to weeks and months until I finally had the epiphany to really brainstorm about all the things that made me happy. I thought to myself about what I have done that has given me goosebumps. I thought to myself what causes time to melt away like butter on a hot griddle. For me, personally, I first thought of video games. I'd always wanted to create one and with all the various plotlines, I thought I'd be a great story board or plot writer. I never knew how deeply it involved the arts and it turned out to be just another thing I never thought I'd be cut out for. My next thoughts turned to music.

For years, music had been right under my nose as something that took me far away from the pain deep inside. I basically took it for granted. All the moments we spend enjoying it, the background scores for movies and the amazing videogames I'd played, the ambient tracks playing in the local mall or restaurant — music was all around in its most recognizable forms and even later in the most unexpected forms I never knew music could take. I decided not too long after this epiphany that I would throw caution to the wind. I decided I would go back to school for one more shot and this time I was going for music.

The first classes I chose were a Fundamentals for Theory class and an Intro into Classical Guitar. The moment I walked in, I knew there was something different about this atmosphere. The low hum of the numerous students asking each other about what instruments they played and the music they loved was electric. I was starting to get goosebumps. The professors themselves lent to this atmosphere by adamantly putting forth the idea that music is immense. Its necessity in our lives is something that is extremely understated and the amount of work a musician must do can rival that of the most trained expert in any field. The importance of discipline was heavily felt. In no way did this dissuade me however and instead it turned some of my own thoughts of music on their head. Originally, I never saw music as so important. It felt as if most of my life, it was just a hobby that people would mention. Aside from the major stars that we're used to hearing, I didn't think they were of much importance. Hearing these things changed my perspective greatly. I revere any and all musicians now, whether it is their hobby or they are just a struggling artist. When I realized its importance, I solidified my desire of learning this craft and fully immersing myself in this world. I finally had found my home. At 23, my life's meaning was starting to come together and become coherent. While learning and immersing myself completely in music definitely helped I still struggled with my depressive cycles. Instead of having nothing to fall back on when I was lost and confused I now had a means to find strength. With learning new thoughts and concepts I was challenging my mind which is always fun. In learning about performing and being required to go onstage, I was able to experience a high level of discipline and confidence or at least a sense of false confidence. With these skills, I was now able to fight my depression with something tangible I could create in my hands. My moments in the depths would lead me to dark-sounding combinations of notes and primal rhythms of cathartic nature. This was starting to become a battle I might have a chance of winning.

Slowly but surely life was falling into place. A meaning for existence makes existence itself much more exciting. No longer had I felt there was nothing here for me and at the same time, I was also learning that what I am building up could help people all over. I wanted to run away from it all and cease to exist before but now I had meaning. Music has this power. A reason for existence has this power. It made me desire to help others, to be there for them and guide them out of a similar despair, to be able to nurture an ability to create. I've been given this chance many times since and the joy I get helping someone understand the beauty in music is an unrivaled experience. This fuel fed a new engine and even more dilemmas as well. As someone who is extremely critical and also highly depressive, I feel a new burden to struggle with. Now instead of seeking a meaning for existence I have to continually remind myself of why I do what I do. I have to give myself credit and make new goals in this beautiful musical world. Otherwise I could still be swallowed whole by my mind. Once we find a meaning for being here, we also have to find another for staying through all the difficult times ahead. The paradox which lies therein is even if we find what can keep us here we will always have to find new reasons to spread the beauty in this world. Stay strong and gravitate towards those goosebumps and together we can all filter the sadness through a lens which can help us survive. The pain doesn't end with finding your meaning. The journey is never really over. It just evolves into an even greater challenge which we've been given the tools to meet head on.

humanity
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About the Creator

Giovanni Medrano

A musician from San Antonio

Currently playing bass in What? The City Bears!

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