This is a single, released on November 21, 2025, with one track on it. That constraint is the whole shape of the listening experience: one piece, one sitting, one long exhale. What follows is a guide to approaching it, built from what the release itself tells us and from what Krishna Das has long stood for. I haven't described specific production details, instrumentation credits, or collaborators, because none are documented here, and I'd rather leave room than invent them.
Krishna Das was born Jeffrey Kagel in 1947 and found his path in 1970s New York through the teachings of Neem Karoli Baba. After a transformative stretch in India immersed in bhakti yoga, he came home and began leading kirtan, blending traditional Indian melodies with Western musical sensibilities. Decades later, he is among the most recognizable voices in devotional music in the West.
A 2025 single labeled a "Meditation Mix" belongs to the late chapter of that arc. It is less a new statement than a distillation: a familiar chant, offered in a form designed for stillness rather than performance. The title pairs two worlds, the Sanskrit mantra Om Namah Shivaya and the English phrase Thy Will Be Done, which is itself a quiet summary of what his career has been about: surrender, offered in whatever language the listener can hold.
Expect the qualities that define his work: a deep, soulful, unhurried voice, call-and-response sensibility, and a pace that favors repetition over development. The "Meditation Mix" designation signals a version intended for sitting with, which suggests a calmer, more spacious treatment than a live kirtan would offer. Beyond that, I'll let your ears do the reporting. Notice what the voice sits against, how much room surrounds it, and whether the mood reads as devotional warmth or as hush.
There is only one: "Om Namah Shivaya / Thy Will Be Done (Meditation Mix)."
What makes it land is the pairing. Om Namah Shivaya is an old invocation, often understood as a bow to the divine within. Thy Will Be Done arrives from a different lineage entirely, yet the two sentiments rhyme. Putting them side by side, in one piece, is the quiet argument of Krishna Das's whole project: that devotion doesn't belong to one vocabulary. Listen for the moment where the two ideas meet, and notice whether the shift feels like a transition or a recognition.
This sits squarely within bhakti, the path of devotion, and within kirtan, the practice of call-and-response chanting. It also touches the broader meditation and devotional music space that has grown around those practices in the West. Krishna Das is often credited with making chanting approachable for people who never grew up with it, and this single continues in that spirit. It is not a scholarly document of the tradition; it is an invitation into it, shaped for modern listening habits and for the mat, the cushion, or the quiet room.
- The long-time practitioner who wants a familiar mantra in a settled, contemplative form.
- The curious newcomer who finds the idea of kirtan intimidating and would rather start with one track than a full album.
- Anyone in a surrender-shaped moment: grief, transition, exhaustion, or the end of a long effort, when "Thy Will Be Done" stops being an abstraction and starts being a relief.
- Meditators who want a chant to anchor a sit without the demands of a full live kirtan.
It will land less well for listeners seeking variety, hooks, or narrative arc. This is repetition in service of release.
Give it your full attention at least once. Evening is natural, with lights low and nothing queued after it. Headphones will let you follow the voice closely, though a quiet room with speakers works just as well if you plan to sit.
Try this: the first time through, simply listen. On the second, chant softly along, even if only under your breath. You don't need to know Sanskrit or sing well; the practice has always been about participation, not performance. Let the track end, and then stay in the silence for a minute before reaching for your phone. Often, the most important part of a piece like this is what happens right after it stops.
