When I am onstage, singing all these songs... what's going through my mind is nothing. That's what's so amazing about meditation - achieving that state, getting to a place where you're clear and present. I'm not thinking about anything except connecting with an audience.

I've always felt for little children because I love the way they fashion sentences - their vocabulary is limited. They have to navigate around to get to the meaning. It's a shame we bypass that when we gain more words. In a way, it's less honest and less direct. It's something that I appreciate about kids, and I will steal from them at will.

Sometimes I say things in interviews and then I see them in print and I think, "What an asshole."

I think meditating on tour is integral. It's a priority, because everything is so chaotic, and the calmer you stay, the calmer everybody is. Sometimes I do it hotel lobbies, or in corners, and I try to find moments. It's not ideal when people come out and almost step on you.

I feel I must acknowledge that gay people are, generally speaking, funnier, more self-sufficient, and better in crises and I should step aside and let them handle the business whenever it comes up.

If you're a woman musician, that is your qualifier. I've had people come up to me and say, "You're good for a girl." My only issue is, when that stereotype and stigma already exists, sometimes it's perpetuated by people who may not really play guitar. You somehow need to transcend that division of gender.

So when I can, I try my best to meditate a little bit every day, and that helps a lot. I think that just taking a minute, or however long you can, and really acknowledging everything that you have. Acknowledging what you have, and at the same time, acknowledging what other folks don't have. And you know, you don't have to feel guilty about it, but definitely to feel grateful is the first step in giving it back.