“Staaaaaaaaaaaaaart Agaaaaaaaaaaaain, Staaaaaaaaaaaaaart Agaaaaaaaaaaaain with a calm and quiet mind.” His voice echoes into the spacious hall where most of us are sitting in lotus with our eyes closed. I have one eye open as I am a bit apprehensive and want to make sure that I have not inadvertently joined a cult. “Staaaaaaaaaaaaaart Agaaaaaaaaaaaain, Staaaaaaaaaaaaaart Agaaaaaaaaaaaain,” he repeats.
“I’m not sure how to explain it,” I hesitated, “but it feels as though a part of me wants to die in Mexico.“ I make an attempt to articulate to my best friend Dani, what has been nagging at me for a long time. The power of synchronicity is incredible is it not? Later that evening, I randomly open a page in Herman Hesse’s Siddhartha to read the following: “He reflected for a long time on his transformation, listened to the bird sing with joy. Had this bird within him not died? Had he not felt its death? No, something else in him had died something that had been longing to die for a long time… He had died and a new Siddhartha had awakened from his sleep.”