Some of the folks we see are in for defending themselves against their abusers, or drug charges that, because of the California state prison system, they have mandatory sentencing and life in prison for three counts of simple drug possession, or whatever. I find it not only helpful but, I think, necessary in maintaining my grounding and my perspective. Because music is such an unrealistic job to have. It's a really lucky job to have, but it's also very unrealistic.

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 think that the activism I've become involved with informs and enhances my life in a lot of ways, and definitely career-wise. This record wouldn't exist [without that activism], for one.

I've always had this vision that the touring lifestyle is so unsustainable. But I have faith that I can do it, and I don't become a victim of my job or my work. And I can remove my self-worth from what I make and how many people show up.

I think I'm more effective as an activist if I stay in music, to be honest. Music, the way it reaches people and transcends divisions, is a really effective and powerful forum.

I like to say that I was raised by sitcoms, and that my personality is comprised of different characters. Darlene from Roseanne, Denise from The Cosby Show, Uncle Jesse from Full House, a little Jessie from Saved By The Bell - but not the episode where she was addicted to sleeping pills.

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.