Literature Music

The Wind Which Strives After You

The Alchemist and Russ’s Santiago

Blake Nail / 2.23.24

The words of the Rapper, son of Funk and Rock, king in Culture:

Feel like I have everything, but I feel nothin’
Spent a quarter million dollars on a car that I don’t need just to feel somethin’
Still nothin’ – Russ, Oasis

Generally speaking, these words do not fit into the stereotype of the hip-hop genre. Rap, especially to those that don’t necessarily lend an ear to the style of music, is typically (or stereotypically) pegged as a proponent of: the pursuit of endless riches, women aplenty (sometimes even women already in relationships as an extra flex) and a plethora of ways to display bragadociousness. Which, to be fair, can often be applicable and entertaining as the Billboard charts show. And while hip-hop is not known to be the avenue of artistry which explicitly warns against the dangers of excess or the emptiness of a hedonist lifestyle — although one could argue it implicitly accomplishes this — there are those in the field that do sometimes tackle such subjects. While rare, some even pen an entire album on the topic.

Russ is an independent rapper whose rise to fame had a rather slow start. He is known for releasing ten albums independently with no success only to then use the tactic of putting out a single a week on Soundcloud which eventually elevated his name incrementally and expanded his cultural reach. Over the past six years since his first studio album, There’s Really A Wolf, he’s gone from the smallest of venues to the Staples Center and even more recently performing at the pyramids in Egypt. The reason for his following is not solely because fans love his craft. It’s the message he’s interlaced with the vast majority of his music: self-belief. When it comes to creativity, this is a powerful factor. Admittedly, I’ve enjoyed his message through the years and it’s encouraged me in my own creative endeavors. The danger, as Russ depicts on his new album, Santiago, is when self-belief is united with self-validation and self-worth. This is indeed a combination that can spell disaster.

The best selling self-help/motivational book, The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho, has been inextricably tied to Russ’ music and is openly acknowledged, even promoted, as the philosophy behind his brand, personality and creative mindset — so much so that Russ’ latest album is modeled after the book, the title even bearing the main character’s name, Santiago. The Alchemist is a fascinating work that uses the form of fictional narrative to teach transformative truths. In its most basic sense, it’s an allegory meant to wake people up to the creative spirit within them. This it accomplishes, as anyone who’s read it would likely be unable to deny. In a deeper, perhaps spiritual sense, it offers a life philosophy which may prove lacking in time of need. This dawns on Russ after being propelled to the pinnacle of his career only to find an emptiness which left him depressed — like so many others before him. Self-belief, while valuable, can only take you so far and ends up as unfulfilling as everything else.

The reality of the unfulfilling nature of plentiful wealth, abundant sex and endless toil isn’t a new concept. It’s one ancient wisdom from numerous cultures and time periods has warned us about and yet humanity has a universal internal misroute between the head and the heart. Of course, one of the most infamous of these ancient words is Ecclesiastes, penned by none other than King Solomon— a man who could certainly speak on such topics. He, or God himself one might say, infamously painted the picture of this human struggle as a “striving after wind.”

A king granted unfathomable riches, numerous wives and great wisdom of which all rulers would be jealous professes the result of it all—vanity. Of course, the common criticism of such philosophy is that surely it’s easy to profess these truths when you have all the benefits of vanity. Point taken. We are inevitably stuck with the two options of trusting someone else’s words or finding out ourselves. As another rapper has perfectly encapsulated while describing his adolescent desire to get out of poverty:

“I know that everything that glitters ain’t gold
I know the shit ain’t always good as it seems
but tell me ‘til you get it how could you know?” (J. Cole, A Tale of 2 Citiez)

Thus, our head and heart are at odds. But it isn’t just this lavish lifestyle which is a striving after wind. We as humanity get extremely creative when it comes to striving after wind. Whether it’s the non-stop pursuit of career goals that only brings temporary happiness or the continuing modifications to our parenting methods because perceived perfection is at our fingertips. Lust routinely entices with false promises of sensual satisfaction but leads astray to empty wells (and cleared browser histories). Forms of religion present behavior modification and unreachable standards that will keep you striving toward a distant god for the rest of your days. We imbibe from bottomless bottles, blow encompassing clouds and scroll, post, scroll, post, scroll, post endlessly. And yet, at the end of our toil-filled days, our striving seems to be in vain for we’ve arrived again, empty.

In an interview with Oprah, Paulo Coelho discusses one of the main ideas in his book and what is possibly the lack in such a philosophy:

OPRAH: So early on in The Alchemist, Santiago is told of the world’s greatest lie. What is that?

PAULO: That you don’t control your life — that there is a system, an establishment, that doesn’t allow you to control anything. You buy into the world’s greatest lie the moment you agree to obey rules that are not your rules.

Coelho is correct, we do control our lives. Although this truth is not as freeing as it sounds. It is indeed what leaves us striving after wind. Left to our own devices we strive all the way into our coffin. As Russ sees in his own life–self-belief, self-validation and self-worth can lead one to wealth and actualized dreams but unfortunately is of no assistance when such things are revealed to be vanity of vanities.

By no means should dreams and goals be seen as completely pointless, but rather ordered into their proper place. Coelho seems to place them higher than ideal:

PAULO: A Personal Legend is the reason you are here. It’s as simple as that. You can fill your hours and days with things that are meaningless. But you know you have a reason to be here. It is the only thing that gives you enthusiasm…But I do believe that we know our reason to be here. We don’t know if we are taking the exact right steps toward it. But if you are honest enough, God will guide you. Even if you take some wrong steps along the way, God will recognize that you have a pure heart and put you back on track.

OPRAH: The universe will rise up to meet you.

PAULO: Yes.

The dreams and goals not only give meaning but are meaning and essentially the purpose for which the universe ticks. For your dreams. Chad Bird has noted “vanity” can be translated from the Hebrew as “absurd” at times — this seems as apt a time as ever.

The trajectory of Russ’ album paints this exact picture. It begins by describing his early juvenile, yet inspirational, dreams of success coming to fruition. Then leads into the track, “Smooth”, which depicts his goals met, the success achieved. But quickly the album pivots and Russ is wondering the age old question: If I got the money, the women and fame then why am I still feeling without meaning? How come bringing all my dreams to fruition didn’t prevent me from feeling depressed? Why is my family falling apart and yet, my bank account still growing? This leads to a chunk of songs examining this idea. And ultimately, Russ seems to come to the end of himself. His solution when there? Similar to most of us, he circles back around to self.

The album ends with two important tracks for understanding the concept. “Tunnel Vision” describes how Russ must become more focused and try harder to not allow what happened happen again. And “The Wind” is the culmination of the concept album. It ties in with the ending of The Alchemist as Russ describes in the song’s description:

The wind represents the part of the alchemist where Santiago turns into the wind. In the story him and the alchemist get captured and are going to be killed until the alchemist says to the captors ‘if Santiago turns himself into the wind you have to let us go.’ Santiago is obviously like ‘wtf how am I supposed to do that?’ Inevitably tho’ he becomes the most connected version of himself and does it. What I took from this is reaching the evolved version of yourself.

Turning into the wind is certainly one option. Although it seems to just be a second serving of that ancient tree. A turning back to yourself as the answer. The album seems to build up to a pivotal moment only to begin where the problem was first born. This is naturally what we’re prone to do — continue the cycle.

But there’s also a different kind of wind, the wind Jesus talked about. A wind which strives after us. It’s been said it blows where it wishes and you can even hear its sound. And it sounds like grace, like rest from striving. There’s whispers of “done” not “do” in its wisps and freedom in its gust. There’s a wind striving after us, and if we listen closely we’ll hear the call to toil no more. To wipe the sweat from our brow and release our white knuckles from the nothingness in our palms. This wind sweeps up those weary from striving and gives them the God who strives. The God who steps into our world of vanity and absurdity, embracing it and freeing it from striving any longer. For the good news of the gospel is that striving certainly has its place but take heart, oh weary one, it is not with us.