By 7:00 PM on June 26, the room at Soul Connections Metaphysical Emporium was already packed — people on the floor wrapped in blankets, others pressed into chairs along the walls, a few still finding their footing near the door. A large bronze Ganesha statue presided over the left side of the room. A gong hung behind the performer. Simrit Kaur sat cross-legged at a harmonium, a Korg keyboard within reach, and when she opened her mouth to sing, the conversations stopped.
That's the thing about Simrit's voice. It doesn't ask for your attention. It takes it.
The workshop — Sound of the Soul: Healing with the Naad — ran from 7:00 to 9:00 PM and moved through breath and meditation, chanting and mantra, vocal activation, sound healing, and an open Q&A with Simrit herself. It wasn't a performance, exactly, though she performed. It wasn't a lecture, though she taught. The structure kept collapsing into something more direct than either: a room full of people breathing together and making sound together, guided by someone who knows what the Naad — the sound current, the vibrational frequency at the core of her practice — actually does to a body when you let it.

What I don't always see in this town is an event that meets people's searching quality with something substantive. This one did. Simrit didn't sing mantras at people. She walked the room through the why — the relationship between breath, vocal vibration, and what Kundalini tradition calls the Naad — and then demonstrated it in real time with a voice that put the explanation to shame.
The Q&A at the end wasn't perfunctory. People had real questions, and Simrit had real answers. She's done this long enough to know what people are actually asking underneath the questions they ask out loud.

Soul Connections Metaphysical Emporium isn't a concert hall. It's an intimate space — the kind where the sound has nowhere to hide, which turned out to be exactly right. This town has a way of stopping people mid-stride, and a lot of them stay. That crowd in the third photo wasn't there by chance — it's the same instinct that fills the boulevard every Monday and keeps places like Berryvale operating as genuine community anchors. People here know what's worth their evening.
If Simrit Kaur comes back to Mount Shasta, go. If you catch her anywhere else first, go there too. But understand: the workshop format is different from a concert. You're not watching. You're in it. That's the whole point of the Naad.