The Southeast Asian winds swept in from the South China Sea, coaxing the sand into a frenetic dance.

The year was 1970. The scene was the coastal region of South Vietnam. Two American soldiers stood looking toward home, 10,000 miles in the distance, dreaming the homesick dreams that their fathers and grandfathers probably did in wars before them.

One lifted a set of headphones to his buddy’s ears, telling him "You have to hear this!"

It was Carlos Santana and the soldier was experiencing him for the first time.

Magic happened at that moment in that sometimes cruel, sometimes beautiful, land. Time stopped.

The sand still danced, but now even it seemed to be under the hypnotic spell of this masterful musician who touched the soul with each gentle stroke of his guitar.

Geography no longer was a consideration.

The soldier still was in Vietnam, but he just as easily could have been back in the United States, or anywhere else in the world. As long as the music played, bringing him solace, bringing him inner peace, it didn’t matter.

…Fast forward to today and that Army veteran, now a music writer, is telling Carlos himself how his music, emotionally speaking, saved his, and a lot of his fellow soldiers’, lives. Its strength, its heart, its otherworldly essence, made him, and them, feel less alone, closer to home.

Santana is gracious in acknowledging the compliment. He, too, is driven by music’s inner power. The writer knows that Carlos has heard similar stories before. In one sense, they are a touchstone for the musician, letting him know he is going in the right direction with his art.

He speaks of using the opportunity provided to him with his success to continue sharing his heart and his soul and all that he has learned in life with the world.

"Judging by the letters I get and the emails from people, I am making an impact," he says. "People say they always find some kind of solace in the sound and the music. They tell me ‘Your music makes it more bearable to live in this planet.’ "

Santana says he sees that as an incredible validation that his music "is like a healing balm." "It is not easy being in this planet, whether you are Donald Trump or Michael Jordan. Money doesn’t buy you happiness. Whoever you are, it’s not easy being on this planet."

John Coltrane reminded us of that. So too did Bob Marley, Carlos says.

So, you learn, if you are fortunate, to appreciate all that you are given, Santana implies. "You say, ‘Oh, God, thank you! I can wiggle my toes. I can French kiss. I can actually dream and go after it.’ There are a lot of things to be grateful about. The best things in life are free. Go discover that for yourself."

Many, decades earlier, already had discovered that there was something special about Carlos and his music -- long before his landmark "comeback" achievement with 1999’s "Supernatural" album, which sold over 25 million copies worldwide and spent 102 weeks on the Billboard album charts, including 12 at number one, generating nine Grammy awards, including "album of the year."

As the artist runs through a litany of names that have inspired him, including Stravinsky, Coltrane, Wayne Shorter, Charlie Parker, Miles Davis, and John Lee Hooker, he accords them the ultimate praise. They were and are playing music of the spheres, he says. "I don’t play that. I wish I could," he adds.

Some would argue, it’s suggested to him, that he is doing that for them. His is that "music of the spheres" for many.

Carlos considers the observation, smiles, then speaks.

"Basically, I can say I swim in a big old lake and they swim in the ocean, but a lake is still better than a swimming pool," he says, laughing.

Doesn’t he believe that in another century someone will be listening to his music, just as they will to the heroes that he embraces?

"Hopefully certain songs that transcend the radio format," he says. "There is a different kind of radio," he says. "That radio has a certain frequency that you tune in the other side."

It’s there, he says, that you hear Hendrix and Coltrane, Marley, Miles and others.

"It’s the kind of music that reminds you of totality and divinity and holiness, the other energy where there is no guilt, condemnation or fear," he adds.

That kind of music (and his fans know that Carlos’ music is part of that soundtrack) is all around us, like electricity, he says. "Unfortunately, we don’t know how to turn it on like electricity. We just learned how to turn on the switch for electricity, and it’s been there all along."

The always philosophical Santana says there is an inner switch we can turn on daily and which can be a conductor to a different kind of energy, like the energy of a Wayne Shorter or Stravinsky, playing sounds and vibrations that can wake up the multitudes to their own divinity.

Carlos is told of an observation by jazz artist Wayne Shorter, who spoke of wanting to open people up to the possibilities, starting with himself. "I want my music to be an adventure, uplifting and overcoming things, overcoming those harsh realities and using those realities for fuel for growth so we can get on the high road," Shorter said.

Santana: "I adore Wayne Shorter. Don’t you just love it when he says that?" Those, too, are his goals, he assures – "100 percent."

He shares his own story of Shorter:

"Someone once asked him, ‘Do you want to rehearse?’ Wayne said, How do you rehearse the unknown?’ Wayne Shorter is the cat’s pajamas of this planet. I saw firsthand how Miles’ (Davis) eyes looked at Wayne. We all look at him with adoring eyes. His music is a sign to make us feel divinity and holiness and absoluteness."

Santana thinks of himself as a dreamer, "creating a bridge of light."

"Like (Nobel Peace Prize winner and South African religious leader) Desmond Tutu or Wayne Shorter, we dream of creating a new dimension on this planet where water and electricity are free and we transform the unnecessary dramas. We, like Wayne and Marley and Coltrane, we dream of creating a world where the multitudes rise up to a higher consciousness."

It’s mentioned to Carlos that he seems to have reached a place that many people would like to be: comfortable with himself, at peace with himself.

He began feeling that way, he says, in the mid-’90s, and especially when he was making "Supernatural."

"I learned so much from Dave Matthews and Wyclef (Jean) and a lot of the younger people who were deeply comfort able in their own skin," he explains. "I was always learning from Dave Matthews and Rob Thomas how to be that comfortable, where you actually have a good time with yourself no matter where you are. That started it for me. Wayne and Herbie (Hancock) are like that."

He says he saw a spiritual light in Matthews. "He loves and adores the things I love: Billie Holiday, Coltrane, Miles."

Santana says he does not play music to pay the rent but to remind people of the big picture of life.

"The big picture of life is beauty, elegance, excellence, grace and dignity, and all of us have goodness inside of us," he says. There is a place, he says, where there is "just light, pure light." Coltrane, he believes, is one artist whose music expresses "the language of light."

And, does Carlos Santana try to be part of that light?

"Not to blind people, but guide them to their own light, to remind people that everyone has their own capacity to create a masterpiece of joy in life, to use the colors of emotions like tools," he responds.

Santana says he wants to use every color available to him to "paint rainbows" with his music.

Unlike him, some artists seem afraid to do that, perhaps because they think their fans won’t stay with them if they explore.

"I’m not wired to play for people’s minds or for critics. I’m not wired to win a popularity contest or receive awards," he says. "I’m wired to follow my heart in the same way as Coltrane or John Handy, to play outside the frame, blow the ceiling away. Some people are content with living with really small ceilings. I can’t do that. I’d rather wash dishes or shine shoes if I can’t play music in all of its colors.

"If I was just a Latin or blues player, to me that would not be enough, with all respect to BB and Albert King. I need the fullness. Blues is just like garlic, just the flavoring."

What, then, makes Santana music Santana music?

"It’s sensual and spiritual," he replies. "People say ‘Oh, my God!’ when they come. It’s an incredible gift from God to us, like food. Everybody has an appetite for sensual expression."

He plays from the heart, he says. "That means the opposite of synthetic, plastic and phony when you play from the heart. It’s like watching a two-year-old buck-naked playing. His eyes are full of light and he’s smiling. That’s just it, when you play from the heart."

Is that a hard thing to do?

"For intellectual people, yes," he says. "People go to the gym and develop their muscles. You have to learn to meditate, to bypass the brain. The brain is the house of doubt and criticism. The heart doesn’t see that. Like a two-year-old child playing in the sand box, you are free."

He plays music from the heart to be connected to everybody, all colors, Santana suggests.

"It’s more rewarding to go to Africa and not be a tourist. When I go to Africa I’m part of the family. They all let me know it," he says. "They say ‘You represent the heart and soul of who we are, not the white man coming to exploit or steal our music or colors.’ I’m very honored."

All of his albums, he says, are extensions of the journey he is having on this planet, “of meeting people and exchanging and growing."

There is a deeper message that he wants people to take from his music in general.

"I would like everyone, as many as possible, to understand the sacredness of unity and harmony, to not be afraid of people just because their nose or skin or hair is different. That is so primitive and stupid and ignorant," he says. "To actually call your sister or brother an alien, if they are from the same planet, that is stupid. How can you actually be afraid of someone because their eyes or skin are different?"

Santana assures that he has confidence in what his heart’s intentions are. “It means I’m happy with my existence. I’m not the kind of person who says ‘it should have been’ or ‘I should have done.’ I don’t do that. I’m doing the best I can, when I wake and when I’m sleeping, to be a better person. That’s enough for me. If I know I’m giving my best, I don’t torture myself."

It seems apparent that Santana has been able to divorce himself from the pressure that others in the business feel, such as not worrying about following up a monumental success like "Supernatural," or whether he may be his own hardest act to follow.

He is asked how he got to that place.

"I never worried about making a living," he replies. "I don’t spend four hours or five minutes in front of the mirror, not even that. I’m not wired to please. I don’t have to get a nose job or have mirrors all over my house, with all respect to people who do that. To me that would be an extremely boring waste of time.

"I’m wired to take a cold shower and call Wayne or listen to Coltrane or Miles and compare notes. I’m wired to do something a little more important to me. I’m not into Carlos. I’m into life and God and people. That makes it easy to roll up my sleeve and give it my best."