Metal and Meaning

College is often described as a time of self-discovery, new experiences, and unexpected connections—and my own experience was no exception. I remember meeting my college boyfriend and stepping into a world that was both unfamiliar and deeply intriguing. We met in Philosophy class of all places and when he approached me he handed me a book about Buddhism… with his phone number tucked inside and a note asking me to go to the movies with him. I thought,“Smooth… and also very on brand for someone who thinks enlightenment can be a pickup line.” His family, a beautiful blend of Chinese and Caucasian heritage, welcomed me with warmth and humor, and I found myself navigating new cultural and musical landscapes while quietly hoping I didn’t embarrass myself (spoiler: probably did)

One of the first family members I met was his brother, Chi Cheng—known as Dai within the family—who was the bassist for the popular Sacramento band, the Deftones. I had no idea who he or the band were. At the time, my music education was… limited. My soundtrack growing up was strictly Oakland and Bay Area rap—Too $hort, E-40, Mac Dre, and Tupac—and the idea of attending a Warped Tour, standing safely in the back while a mosh pit erupted in front of me, was not my idea of a good time. I vividly remember attending my first rock concert-being backstage and having no idea they were the headliners which further highlighted my unknowingness. 

Years later, I heard of Chi’s tragic car accident. I was fortunate enough to visit him and his family in the hospital before his passing—one of those life moments you never forget. What struck me most about Chi, beyond his talent, was his quiet presence and humility.

Their family endured unimaginable losses—multiple sons gone too soon. Although my romantic connection was brief, it was the original catalyst for these unforgettable experiences—introducing me to a world of music that left a lasting imprint on me. This brief moment reminds me of the profound impact even short connections can have on our emotional lives, a lesson I often see reflected in therapy.

Despite the heartbreak, my fleeting meetings and meals with Chi influenced me. He had a deep Buddhist nature and grounding presence. This happened around the time I began my meditation practice and first encountered Eastern philosophy. My 12-year-old son now plays bass guitar, and I’ve shared with him the story of the famous bassist who unknowingly helped broaden my worldview.

One of my last conversations with Chi, we were driving past a cemetery near his beautiful Sacramento Land Park home. I had asked him what he believed happens to us when we die. He said very matter of a fact - we just go back to being a part of everything around us. That comforts me. When I listen to Deftones' albums now, I remember not just the music but Chi and his brothers, their kindness, and my own coming-of-age.

I share this story because the people we cross paths with—even briefly—can shape us in profound ways. This is a principle I often see reflected in therapy. Music is a powerful sensory memory and a portal. It can transport us back to places, people, and emotions we didn’t even realize were still inside us. And sometimes it reminds you that—even if you were like me, the awkward, out-of-place college student standing quietly in the back—you were still there, fully alive, and part of something unforgettable.

Rock on, 

Mandy

Chi Ling Dai Cheng

July 15, 1970 – April 13, 2013

Rolling Magazine Article