Agapic Chants
English·Deutsch
You open your home, or a room you have access to, and invite the people you'd like to sing with. I bring the chants and lead the evening. You don't need to know any music.
People come in, get tea, and settle. We start with something simple that everyone can sing straight away.
We hand out lyric sheets and I teach the chants by ear. The room slowly eases into rhythmic vibrations.
At some point we fall into a simple resonance and presence in sound and in silence. It's nourishing in ways many of us have forgotten.
When it clicks — when a room full of people is singing together — you can feel it in your body. Something is happening here, right now, and we are all part of it.
Friends, neighbours, whoever you'd like there. No piano, no sound system, no chairs facing forward — the circle is the only part of the setup that matters.
It isn't a concert, so nobody sits and watches. It isn't a workshop, so there's nothing to get right. And it isn't a choir rehearsal — we're not working towards a performance, and nothing leaves the room unless everyone wants it to.
See an example of a gathering: Heart Choices →Tell me where you are and roughly how many people you'd have, and I'll write back myself. If you're not sure yet whether your room works, ask anyway — and if it's a retreat or a training rather than an evening, just say so.
I've been writing songs since I was 13, and I've spent the years since split between music and a quieter track: a doctorate in the sociology of religion, time in monasteries, and training in how people work through what's hard. I make songs with people, and then we sing them.
Even across the darkness, we can hear each other sing.
If they've meant something to you, your support helps make more of them.