The inner music has a strange quality. Outer music needs an instrument, it needs a duality — the musician and the instrument. The inner music does not need duality – the musician is the music, the musician is the instrument, the musician is all. There is no division. Zen people call it the sound of one hand clapping. No, one hand cannot clap. They are simply showing that inside, the sound of one hand clapping happens. Two hands are needed to clap. That is the outside music, two hands clapping. It is easy for two hands to clap; there is a conflict, there is a struggle, there is a clash. But the inner music, anahato, means silence, the sound of silence.

Silence has its own music. It can be heard only by those who have dropped all noise from the head. It can be heard only from the heart, not by the head. The heady person goes on missing it. Only the person who is full of heart, full of love, can hear the music.

This is the music that helps you to go beyond. It becomes a rainbow bridge. You cannot grasp it with the mind; you cannot comprehend it with the mind. The mind has to be put aside, completely put aside, and then suddenly it is there.

That is the whole art of meditation, putting the mind slowly aside and getting to the inner music, becoming attuned to the inner world of oneness. You can call it the experience of God, Tao, truth, dhamma; it is really nothing but the experience of the ultimate music.