Permission to Change: RM's "Still Life" and The Act of Re-Introducing Yourself

On allowing yourself to change and giving people the CHANCE to keep up…and some love for RM’s “Still Life” (with Anderson .Paak).

Muses by Diana Traykov

God and the universe collaborated, and they had the goal of playing a prank on me by making my whole university experience coincide with the very worst of the pandemic. (Yes…I’m still bitter). If I were to place a percentage on it, I’d say that at least 76.35% of my time at university, ergo 76.35% of my transformation from a teenager-who-has-never-lived-alone to a young-adult-in-a-whole-new-city, was done in almost complete isolation.

The crazy thing about isolation, however, is that your image, the persona you carry once you step outside of your home, persists in the minds of the people you have relationships with, even while you stay inside, by yourself, and change.

멈추지 않는 정물
A still object that keeps on moving

At the very beginning of this month, RM (of BTS) released his first full-length album entitled Indigo, stating on his Instagram story that the album should be received as a “documentation of [his] youth” and an overall embodiment of “the last archive” of his twenties. 

I’ve sat with the album daily since its release, meaning that I can confidently say that track two out of ten–entitled Still Life, featuring Anderson .Paak–ranks top 3 when I consider the whole body of work. It’s just…really freaking good.

Before even pressing play, RM’s genius and his knack for playing around with language and colloquialisms is displayed in the very title of the song: Still Life. As explained in a recent interview, his interpretation of the phrase is two-fold. Not only does it allude to the popular art form that depicts snapshots of inanimate subject matters but to him–a non-native English speaker–the phrase suggests something else. It suggests that no matter what happens “it’s still life,” and “life still goes on.” 

Using this interpretation as a spring-board, RM delivers a funk-infused track centred around how he navigates his fame, namely the conflict of being viewed as one particular person, framed by the events of his past, all while becoming another person as he continues to grow and transform in front of the public eye.

과건 가버렸고 미랜 모르네

The past is gone, and the future is unknown

두 갈래길에서 숨 고르네

At a fork in the road, I collect my breath

벗어나고 싶어 이 캔버스의 틀

I want to escape the frame of this canvas

어제와 내일이 내게 드리운 그늘

The shade cast over me by yesterday and tomorrow

— translated by doolset.

Now…I’m not even a fraction as famous as the guy, but that really doesn’t make the overall message of the track any less relatable. At its core, the song is about dealing with constant comparisons between the you of today and the you of the past—a version of yourself that you may not even recognise, let alone remember anymore. 

The me that existed in 2019 B.C (before COVID-19) and the me that exists in 2022 A.B.A.K.S.D.C (after-but-also-kinda-still-during COVID-19) are different. Actually, they’re not just different. I’d argue that in more ways than one…they clash. There are things that I did, said, and believed in the past that simply don’t align with me anymore, and there are old aspects of my personality that I’ve rejected all while bringing other aspects forward and closer to my centre of self. 

If I were to borrow RM’s extended metaphor, I have long-since moved outside the frame of how I used to present myself and how I used to be perceived by others, and that’s not just a result of my period of isolation but it’s also just a natural result of the simple fact that I’ve aged.

As 2022 draws to an end, I know that we all find ourselves in a period of reflection.

Not only are we looking back at how we’ve already changed but we’re also looking forward, making New Year’s Resolutions, creating vision boards, and scripting out who we want to be in 2023.  Maybe you want to become a gym-rat. Maybe you want to do a complete one-eighty and change the way you dress. Maybe you want to stop drinking. Maybe you want to give up animal produce and go vegan. Maybe you want to stop cursing. Hell, maybe you want to learn how to curse in an entirely new language. The choices of change that you can implement are infinite. However no matter what your plans may be, I’ll be the first one to tell you that not everyone is going to like it, understand it, or accept it.

“You used to do [blank] all the time, though.”

“Let’s see how long that lasts.” 

First, I think it’s important to note that these kind of comments aren’t always said with malicious intent—sometimes they are, but not always, and figuring out the difference is a task in and of itself. But what these comments never fail to do is make conversations…awkward. Rejecting old norms and explaining said rejections to people that you used to partake in them with can be uncomfortable, so much so that I’ve realised that it’s something that I sometimes work to actively avoid. How? By putting off meeting friends or family members that I haven’t seen in years, because I get anxious at the mere thought of having to re-introduce myself.

To be painfully transparent with you, dear reader, at the time that I’m writing this, I have a two-day-old “unread” text sitting in my iMessage inbox. From the preview that popped up on my phone screen, I’ve gathered that it’s an invitation to a New Year’s party from a friend I haven’t seen face-to-face in years. If I said I didn’t want to go, I’d be lying, just as much as I would be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous at the idea of showing up, at the idea that the version of me that arrives at the event will be so far removed from the me of the past that when the celebrant opens the door expecting Chioma, they’ll see a stranger, and then I’ll be faced with the task of proving to them that no, it is me, it is Chioma, that I’m more Chioma than I’ve ever been. 

Still Life’s message doesn’t embody this fear. 

걔네 조롱은 듣지 마 니 귀 버려

Don’t listen to their ridicule, it’ll only damage your ears

Instead, the track feels celebratory and self-assured in embracing the process of change, not concerned with the possible contentions, un-comfortability or misunderstandings that may arise as a result of it. RM states that he will continue to “live [his] life to the fullest,” even if it is “unlike what [other people] wish for.” He intends to keep moving in a way that is so shameless, so proud, that it gives those observing him the chance to keep up, to get to know him all over again, to embrace this new version of himself that he’s confidently walking into.

How exciting it is to break free from expectations that are not your own! 

It’s so easy to forget that who I am is not fixed in place, set in stone, or locked into a frame. In actuality, I don’t owe anyone–family, friend, or foe–any level of consistency that results in an overall dismissal of my true self. So, I’ve decided to give myself permission to change, not just behind closed doors, but in public and in front of people that may have already met and grown accustomed to the older versions of myself. And as I embrace the never-ending process of remaking myself, I’ll do so knowing that the people that love me–that really, truly love me–will willingly put in the effort needed to catch up.

So…I guess I have a text to respond to.

Things I Recommend You Read:

• Bfly Note #7: Allow Me To Reintroduce Myself by Bfly (another massive inspiration behind this post).

Things I Recommend You Watch:

• The "Still Life" Music Video

Random Song Recommendations:

• Nostalgia by Uwade (If Uwade has one fan, it’s me. If Uwade has no fans, I’m dead, you’re all invited to my funeral and you better play this song).

• Distance by Yebba

• Devil That I Know by Jacob Banks