SONG REFLECTION: “Monument” by Röyksopp & Robyn

Listen to Lyrics of "Monument" by Röyksopp & Robyn

🎧Music moves energy. These song reflection posts explore how certain songs move me — emotionally, spiritually, and soulfully.

Let’s go deeper . . .

"Monument” by Röyksopp & Robyn (2014)

Make a space

For my body

Dig a hole

Push the sides apart

This is what I’m controlling

It's a mold, the inside that I carve

This will be my monument

This will be a beacon when I'm gone, gone, gone

When I'm gone, gone, gone

When I'm gone

So that when the moment comes

I can say I did it all with love, love, love

All with love, love, love

All with love

Make a cast

Of my body

Pull back out

So that I can see

Let go of how you knew me

Let go of what I used to be

I will let this monument

Represent a moment of my life, life, life

Of my life, life, life

Of my life

I will let this monument

Represent a moment of my life, life, life

Of my life, life, life

Of my life

Make a cast

Of my body

Pull back out

So that I can see

Let go of how you knew me

Let go of what I used to be

Make a cast

Of my body

Pull back out

So that I can see

Let go of how you knew me

Let go of what I used to be

SONG REFLECTION:

A Soul’s Echo Beyond the Ache

"This will be my monument

This will be a beacon when I'm gone

So that when the moment comes

I can say I did it all with love."

When I first heard this song, it landed somewhere in my mind—activating questions around legacy, purpose, and what I was meant to create and offer to the world. It was about building something tangible to leave behind. Something that could stand tall as proof that I had done something with my life. My “monument” was supposed to be a result—an achievement, a clear skill, a mark of success.

But now . . . now it hits me in the chest.

The deeper I’ve journeyed into myself—into truth, into pain, into healing—the more I understand: the real monument we leave behind is not what we do, but who we are when the doing stops.

It’s the essence of our soul.

It’s the way our presence ripples through others’ lives,

even when we’re gone.

"Make a cast of my body

Pull back out so that I can see

Let go of how you knew me

Let go of what I used to be"

This song is my offering today for someone whose soul I still feel.

Someone whose birthday would have been today.

But he’s not here.

He left us by suicide.

And the weight of that sentence still folds me in half sometimes.

He wasn’t someone who checked all the boxes.

In fact, that’s part of what tortured him.

He wanted to—but the deeper, inner work . . . the scary stuff . . .

he avoided that.

He feared true intimacy—the kind that requires letting yourself fall apart in front of someone, and stay there, unpolished.

He wore the “I’m fine” mask like armor.

And if you asked him how he really was,

he’d shut down and retreat.

Get passive-aggressive. Defensive.

Deflect with a joke, or go quiet.

Anything but vulnerability.

But his soul—his real self—was starving. Paralyzed by fear.

Strangled by shame.

Haunted by not knowing if he was enough,

or if he had a “purpose” that fit the mold.

Addiction numbed it.

Society ignored it.

Fear buried it.

But I saw him. I still do.

Even when fear clouded his vision, I saw the soul beneath the armor.

We remained close, but I had to make the heartbreaking choice to leave—

not out of anger, but because he wasn’t ready.

He wasn’t ready to meet himself in the mirror of his own pain.

He couldn’t yet gather the shattered pieces,

or let them teach him how to open, how to grow, how to free himself.

And still, I now understand:

He was the monument.

Not the job, not the paycheck, not the “potential.”

His being. His presence. His gentle, broken, beautiful soul.

That’s what mattered.

"I will let this monument represent a moment of my life . . ."

To those who are silently suffering:

You are not tainted. You are not flawed.

You are a living, breathing monument of truth.

Your pain is not something to hide.

Your sensitivity is not a weakness.

Your confusion about purpose does not make you less worthy of love or belonging.

I see you.

Because I am you.

I’ve stumbled too, into dark nights where identity collapses and the world feels too loud, too shallow, too heavy.

But this song, now, reminds me that all we’re really called to do—

is live from the deepest part of ourselves.

To peel off the layers.

To carve space for our soul.

To let our essence echo—imperfect, but real.

A beacon of love.

So when my moment comes, I don’t want to be remembered for what I achieved—

I want to be remembered for how I loved.

Just like he should have been.

This reflection is for him.

And for you, if you’re still hiding.

Let yourself be seen.

You’re already the monument.

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If any part of this touched something inside you, I’d love to know.

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Until next time,

Karen Di Gloria

🥀🎼✨

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