Let me begin by offering a disclaimer: I have little to no faith in these virtual forums as a means of engagement in thoughtful discussion or as a legitimate approach to real-world problem solving. My participation in this exercise is motivated by social isolation and, well,. sheer desperation. Judging by the content of the other posts I've perused (on this site and others), the level of discussion seems confined to rather brief, vague inquiries followed by predominately platitudinous responses. The increasing prevalence of these forums, however, must attest to at least some level of gratification for the participants, though after suffering through countless half-baked efforts at philosophy and pop psychology articulated through incomplete sentences and sometimes incoherent grammar, I find this difficult to imagine. Nevertheless, I shall cast my lure in the hopes of eliciting some insightful advice, assuming of course that I haven't yet alienated all potential readers. Perhaps this cynical introduction is unwarranted, and merely a defense mechanism employed as a preemptive measure to discredit any possible criticism I may receive. But psychological speculations aside, let's attend to the matter at hand.
I think it's safe to say that I once idealized creativity with an almost religious fervor. The arts seemed to me the most noble of human pursuits,-the only sincere form of self-realization. Yet more recently, this propensity for romanticism has been threatened by an encroaching cynicism, a mistrust of my formerly cherished assumptions. My pursuit of musical excellence as a means of self-expression has not delivered the sense of redemption it once promised. Despite my efforts I am still plagued by a lack of fulfillment and a looming sense of discontent. Some years ago, I made a contrived effort to rekindle my musical aspirations,- a sort of return to creative fundamentals in the hope that this would recapture the elusive sense of transcendence I had previously experienced. But alas, my passion has dissipated,-the once blazing fire now having been reduced to smoldering embers. The beauty of music was once so intoxicating, yet now it seems I can only catch small glimpses of the magic and wonder it once so readily evoked. My frustration with the acquisition of technical skill is certainly a factor in my disillusionment, the formerly enticing challenge now having been reduced to grueling drudgery. Although I once had the potential for mastery, my long period of abstinence from practice (itself a result of disinterest) has rendered me unable to compete in this arena. It is a self-perpetuating phenomenon. My most determined efforts would now only be rewarded with mediocrity, and I can't help considering the futility of this ambition. So my apprehensions are twofold,-both theoretical and practical,-an overall loss of momentum in the interplay between inspiration and realization. The muse which was formerly ever-present is now but a rare visitor. Although her interludes are sometimes slightly alluring, I have begun to suspect her of deception and have resisted seduction. The sense of the numinous has dwindled and the colorful visions of yore seem to be shrinking further into the distance. Is this an inevitable transformation? Shall I frantically paddle against the proverbial current, aiming for that dot on the horizon which may very well be a mirage?
Unfortunately, this uncertainty extends beyond the realm of music and has led to an acute suspicion of beauty, fantasy, and general romanticism. Although such interests would seem to be merely a matter of personal taste, I feel that such inclinations reflect an underlying ideology that values intuition above reason, imagination above knowledge, mythology over factual validity, subjectivity over objectivity, and individualism over collectivism. Such values were formerly defining attributes of my personality, but more and more I find myself hindered by doubt, plagued by ambivalence, compelled by anxiety, and riddled with insecurity. I feel more apathetic to the sublime, more numb to pleasure, more skeptical of enchantment. I fear that perhaps my idealization of the fantastic may have been the product of an irrational bias,- and indulgence of escapist mentality, or at worst a dangerous delusion. Have my colorful sensibilities led me astray? Have I become a hopeless ideologue, given to flights of fancy?

I think what has happened along the way is that you started with a premiss of things being one way only to find out it is another. The true fact of art in its most basic of meanings is suffrage. For art you must suffer. That is the realazation you came to during your journey. And its also the absolute truth of art. Once the seed of doubt was planted it grew like weeds in the garden. From the way I read it you need to start pulling weeds. The only way to do that is to try to comprehend what it is you really want. Of all the greats no matter who they were they had to play the same songs over and over once they were popular. Think about that and absorb it for a minute.

You might try making a list. Sort of a tado list of your life. Then mark the ones you have accomplished on some levels. Rate them on 2 levels 1) being satisfaction and 2) being proficient.

When you examine it you will see where your passion falls. If you can play music you have skills. And that's something to be proud of to start with. Where you take your music or anything else is only limited by your imagination. Now is the time to settle with yourself and find a direction.

And then our journey is often self fulfilling, if you don't expect help from online posts, you will never find it. Since you already don't expect it to be here.

Next of course in life, one needs to follow their passions and dreams. Without passion and hope in life there is no life worth achieving

I have been a musician most of my life. I have always had a passion to be creating music as a means of expression that transcends words and communicates the feelings I experience.
There was a time I wanted to do nothing else but be involved in music. I attempted to make a living doing it but soon found that path took away the things I love most about it. To be able to play what I wanted to play when I felt most inspired to play it to please my creative flow and not that of an audience.
All the while I was being told I had the "talent" , I had a "gift" that should be pursued to fulfill both artistic and economic paths of my life. I found that to be impossible . The limits and compromises demanded by that route took away the joy and passion to create.
So I play to please me. And I do what fulfils my artistic needs and passions. I still love the challenge of technical mastery. Even when I feel no one is ever a true master. No matter how well you do it,it is never perfect and can always be improved.
Life seldom turns out to be what we invision , but that is no reason to quit or be totally disillusioned. Keep doing what you love to do as often as you can.Keep the passion whatever it is for you ,because without it life is merely exsisting, not living .