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I would then figure out the tunes on a dulcimer and an accordion I had brought with me to keep myself entertained. After I while, I started to absorb the sounds of the mantras… they were easy for me to learn, as if they had been in me all along.

For many years I had been making sounds that were like mantras in my own music, sounds that spoke of some state that mere words couldn't really convey. It's as if I could tell the truth on one level, but that would obscure the truth on another level. I could speak emotionally with truth, but that would obscure the intellectual meaning, and vice versa. In India, I found that there was a long tradition of singers like me.

My job involved distilling lengthy talks by the guru into fifteen minute short subjects suitable for viewing by newcomers to Eastern philosophy. There was a certain logic in hiring me for this work, since I myself was a beginner. I spent every day immersed in the teachings of yoga. The people overseeing my work were knowledgeable and open to discourse. The guru was warm and witty and very accessible to me, and I had some experiences so astonishing and transformative that it shifted the course of my life.