"I'll find my way home while exploring the galaxy"

Day 20 Part II: Kirtan Tales of the Marigold Fairy God


((There is absolutely no satire to be found here))

Alot can happen when you go to Kirtan on a Saturday night in Koh Phangan.

Like that moment when you’re two songs into Kirtan, and you realize — “Wait, my throat chakra is done for the day. Why am I here again?”

The impermanence of the higher self wanting to express itself is something interesting to ponder.

All I did today was exercise my throat chakra in one conscious conversation after another. I realized only a few songs in that the last thing I wanted to do was chant to the kirtan deities in words I could hardly pronounce at pitches that were far beyond my vocal comfort zone. My intention tonight was to channel my higher creative self. And somehow, I manifested this in the most unusual of ways (and it wasn’t by singing).

First, let’s examine the rambunctious fairy-like child to my right. From the very beginning, she could hardly sit still on her designated cushion — instead, pouring all her attention and love on redesigning the marigold altar that had been laid out by the musicians as offerings. And by redesign,” imagine a tiny child passionately ripping apart the delicate marigold petals and sprinkling them like fairy dust on surfaces of her choosing. She also managed to snatch the marigolds I had carefully placed on the palms of my hands as acts of devotion in classic kirtan style. 

“Okay universe, I hear you loud and clear. The inner child in me also hears you, and want to be receptive to your ways,” I mustered in eventual joyful surrender.

And this is where we come to the point of “my throat chakra needs a rest, now.” It’s time to get horizontal in the back, away from the fairy child and take some space. I crawl and sprawl into Savasana and immediately feel a wash of calm settle into my body. The fan is blowing and finally, I feel free — in dead corpse. It is what it is.

As I come to accept this state of being, a hot slobbery tongue consumes my mouth with vigorous passion. “You’ve got to be kidding me…what on Earth is happening to me?” 

Oh, a dog is licking my face. Of course. The token dog in Koh Phangan that finds its way into conscious gatherings. Ecstatic dance one night, kirtan the next — simply holding space by default through its unconditionally loving presence. 

“Okay universe, I hear you again. Is this your way of helping me access my higher creative self?” First, a fairy child obsessed with marigold and now, a dog unafraid of non consensual French kisses?

So, I sit up and settle into yet another posture of receptivity. Only this time, I find myself dropping into the role of curious observer, a resident anthropologist of this conscious gathering otherwise known as Kirtan. I look around with completely fresh eyes. My attention scans the room and I see the people quite clearly— a heavily bearded man shaking his rattle (because you know, kirtans are all about the BYOR - bring your own rattle) for example. And then there’s the newbie in the back wearing a basic no-frills outfit with studied eyes and glasses, holding his smart phone with dedicated focus on the musicians. He’s having his first kirtan —I mean, it didn’t happen if there weren’t a series of video clips, selfies and photos….right? Oh yes, and then there’s the pretty girls all done up in their whitest most spiritual outfits swaying in Lotus with hands on heart. Classic.

Most everyone else had their eyes closed in a posture of oneness yet hard at work making sounds with their best attempt to match the Hindi song lyrics of our masterful Kirtan leader. In that moment of clear seeing, I realized — we are all here to find our creative way through these songs, throat chakra or not. 

And how good it feels to find stillness (in whatever way) and ground in the presence of the Great Creator. God. 

In all of us.


Tiffany Wen