Lessons in improvising a search for meaning through music

For as long as I can remember, I have been obsessed with figuring out the meaning of life. I have sort of a recurring issue, where every so often I stumble across some concept that seems like it might lead to a meaning, something that feels “right” or “important.”

Gradually, I start to think about this idea, better define it and construct a meaning of life around it, almost as if building a house or skyscraper, and every time, without fail, I eventually find some flaw or otherwise grow dissatisfied with my construction. And after a brief period of denial, it all comes crashing down. Annoyed, but still hopeful, I continue stumbling through life until another idea catches my attention and the process begins again.

A couple times in the past few years I have started to lose faith in my endeavor. After all, humans have been searching for meaning for millennia; if all of history’s greatest thinkers have failed in providing a meaning that I find satisfactory, who am I to think I could do better? Or perhaps there isn’t a meaning after all, and my search is destined to continue failing. But then again, when I do find an idea that seems meaningful, the feeling of rightness and emotional completeness that come with it seem unquestionably real — as real as the feeling you get the first time you hear a great song. This feeling has led to my new theory of meaning (well, not really “my” theory; the interested reader is encouraged to look up the “Metaphysics of Quality”).

Though we think scientific truth to be constant, our understanding of it is always in flux. Flaws are found in old theories, and new theories replace them, only to be replaced again by newer, less flawed theories; the cycle never ends. Similarly, the meaning of life is not a constant. It changes as each person understands it differently and develops it in their own way. But that doesn’t mean that it’s not real. If anything, the only way to find the meaning of life is to trust that feeling of rightness. When you find it, don’t pass it off as something imagined, or something you don’t have time to deal with. Take a step back, think about what caused the feeling, what it means and open your mind to the prospect of finding it again.

Near the end of my sophomore year, I heard Made Possible by The Bad Plus for the first time, and the opening track “Pound For Pound” was one of those moments of “rightness.” The quiet but driving pulse, swelling dynamics, textural diversity and elegantly simple yet gorgeous melody and harmony all come together to create something that at its core seems astonishingly profound. The way The Bad Plus is able to achieve this philosophical artistry is through a very natural style of improvisation, displayed also on tracks like “Seven Minute Mind,” “For My Eyes Only” and notably “In Stitches.” In this way, it only makes sense that so much of its music should have that “right” feeling for me, as their improvisation embraces change and impermanence rather than rejecting it, thereby embracing a more dynamic meaning too: a meaning that develops and grows with each iteration. A meaning that must exist, but can’t really be defined or explained, only felt.

If the meaning of life is always changing, then I must change with it. I must keep improvising in my own search for meaning and accept the destruction of my past meaningful constructs as positive learning experiences, and as opportunities to open my mind to the possibilities of all that the meaning of life can be — if only for a moment.

Jatin Chowdhury is a senior majoring in electrical engineering. He is also the Jazz Director at KXSC Radio. The rotating guest column, “KXSC Radio,” runs Thursdays.