When the Old Dream Ended (Part 1: The Road to Mahai)

My big dream didn't explode dramatically (well, to be fair there were some dramatic explosions, but I experienced them almost through a foggy window). My big dream simply slowly became impossible.

For years, my life revolved around holding spaces for community through music, yoga, festivals, and service work. Through Sat Nam Fest, Spirit Voyage, and the Sat Nam Foundation, we gathered thousands of people together in practices that many of us believed could help create healing, connection, and meaning in the world.

At what felt like the pinnacle of that dream, I thought the next chapter of that work would take shape on a beautiful farm property in New Hampshire. The farm was donated to our foundation by Tina and Davis Mangold.

The vision for the property was never simply to host festivals, although our team had such vivid dreams of Sat Nam Fest stretching throughout that beautiful land. We imagined it becoming a true home for our foundation — a place where healing, education, farming, music, nature, retreats, and service projects could all live together. We envisioned gatherings for people of all ages. A place where people could stay for days at a time immersed in community, learning, creativity, and rest.

It felt like the beginning of something important.

But over time, the reality of local regulations began closing in around that vision. The town's leadership ultimately summoned us to a meeting to let us know that our vision for the property was not in alignment with the town's vision. Most importantly, they informed us of an ordinance prohibiting camping within the town limits. One person actually said "We've seen 'Wild, Wild Country' - that's not happening in our town. For many people, camping might not have mattered much. But for the kind of immersive experiences we hoped to create, it changed everything.

Without the ability for people to stay together on the land, the heart of the vision became impossible.

For a while, we tried to find our way to making it work anyway. We explored compromises, alternatives, and creative solutions. But eventually we had to face something painful: the dream we had for that place was no longer viable.

Letting go of the farm felt like grieving a future I had already emotionally moved into.

At the time, though, I still believed another version of the dream would emerge somewhere else.

I just had no idea yet how much would change before I found it.