So we arrive, as it were, by the backdoor, at some of my fundamental notions of self. One of the things I noticed when I went mind-diving with David Hume in search of causes--and not finding any--was that, when I "entered most deeply into myself," "I" disappeared right along with the causes of things. Later study of Buddhism and Vedanta confirmed this curious inmost vacancy, and I have lived without an ego in the usual sense of the term for most of my life. Nonetheless (and if this be paradox, make the most of it!), I have a very strong and consistent inner sense of what my life is about and what I must do in it. One thing I knew as far back as I can remember was that Mastery of the Great Art was the goal and purpose of this life or any putative future lives. Furthermore I have always had a fairly distinct notion of how I should go about acquiring it: (1) I study (my infallible Internal Guide has led me to many sources of perfect wisdom); (2) I receive direct transmission of the Dharma from a qualified Master; (3) I perfectly and absolutely master at least one of the Lesser Arts (Music I think, and I suppose Calligraphy); (4) I consciously embrace, and practise, the Way of the Boddhisattva (nurturing sentient beings and [insofar as they have character] non-sentient beings, disdaining cruelty and indifference, striving always to attain to the Perfections and the Virtues). Note that when I say "perfectly and absolutely master," I damn-it-all mean it. And when I say this of music I mean: Mastery of all the elements of music (harmony, mensuration, counterpoint, and melody) and all basic musical forms (songs, sacred and profane, for voices and for instruments; dance-music; choral music; instrumental sonata-allegro). One could, of course, do as some demon-ridden modern German composers do, and crank out passably correct "music" which is utterly without charm or character (and indeed it must be very hard to do), but such lucubrations can give no pleasure, and are, therefore, not music. Mozart said so.