In the world of saṅkīrtana—the public sharing of spiritual wisdom—the objective is never a mere transaction. It is a state of being. It is about being “present” and “available” when mercy chooses to flow. The material world is a dense fabric of distraction and forgetfulness; our role is simply to offer a small interruption to that pattern.

My approach during this marathon was a departure from the “fire” of the previous generation. In the 1970s, the intensity was legendary—I often think of the story from Germany where a devotee, frustrated by a man’s indifference on a park bench, actually lit the man’s newspaper on fire to get his attention.

While I admire that zeal, my journey was “slower” and more “attentive.” I realized that my only real resource against the inevitable rejection and rudeness of the road was my sādhana (personal spiritual practice). By finishing my sixteen rounds of meditation before sunrise, I found a steady inner strength. Out there in the bright lights and enticing offers of the malls, you feel exposed. Without that morning connection to the divine, you have nothing to give.