Waves lapped against the gentle beach in the darkness as I listened deeply to the ocean, and the lingering exhalations of the other sixty people around me. The moon was rising over the water behind Snatam Kaur, GuruGanesha Singh and Manish Vyas, who watched us silently with light in their eyes as the music slowly faded. They had just finished chief another evening of gorgeous kirtan (call and response singing) during their sacred chant retreat in Mexico.

After a few moments, Manish gently broke the silence, “Take note to the waves, and then take note to the space between the waves. Find yourself in that space.” This is where the kirtan had carried us, to this space, this deep silence between the waves. As Manish spoke to us, I could still feel the mantra coursing through my bloodstream with each heartbeat, Snatam’s voice carrying on into the silence. I felt such a sense of joy, my sensitivity wanted to burst. I looked around and saw my emotions mirrored in the expressions of the people surrounding me. And suddenly, there was no space between the person next to me and me. We became so deeply connected by that shared experience, that there was an intimacy made beyond explanation. I did not know these people before we arrived at this kirtan event, but we left as family tree.

This experience of deep connectedness and convergence is being articulated by people attending kirtan gatherings and concerts all over the planet. For many, kirtan has become their favorite do of keenness, but for some, kirtan is a completely new experience. The thought of chanting in a group is completely foreign to them.

Akasha, a yoga teacher in Birmingham, Alabama, went to a David Newman (a.k.a. Durga Das) concert before this month. “I brought a bunch of my students to the concert,” he said. “They all had strong physical Yoga practices, but had never been to a kirtan event before. We don’t get kirtan artists on the road through