Planting with Patience
My hands are covered in dirt, my heart is filled with song.
Today, I planted spring bulbs - tulips, crocuses, daffodils - the final planting of the year. Soil still remains underneath my fingernails as I haven’t yet washed my hands, I like to look at them covered in earth. When my hands are soil covered, I think of the hands of my parents, hard-working hands that are cracked and calloused. Hands that have dug potatoes and assisted cattle in birth. Hands that have bled, hands that have held us.
This entry wasn’t to be about hands, although it is a topic that I obviously have much to write about. I am pondering over bulbs and seeds and the optimism within them. I placed each in the earth with a blessing: may there be peace, may there be love, may a miracle occur... It is not a time to take anything for granted.
Planting bulbs into the earth just before the winter is an act of trust and hope. Planting is work that makes your hands dirty. Honest work that requires patience and dedication. It’s always a surprise and an absolute delight when the first green shoots show themselves after a long winter. Bless the first flowers of spring! They tell us that, yes, winter is coming to a close and you will soon feel the warmth of the sun on your skin.
My work revolves around the art forms of music and writing - definitely not the most tactile of art forms and perhaps this is a reason that I spend so much time in my garden touching, smelling, digging, cutting, and getting dirty.
Connection. The deep connection that we have with the earth, with ourselves and with one another has been a theme replaying in my mind for so many moons. This is the theme of my next album of music that will soon go into production.
Since I have last written to you, the world has shifted in ways unimaginable. For me personally, my life transformed, as I became a mother.
The pause of my music and writing was a thought-out, conscious decision. A moment to step back and step into something much bigger than myself. I also took the last few years to create Open Voice, a holistic vocal studio in Berlin and online. More about Open Voice.
My news to you is that I am back writing and making music again. The only ways (except for gardening, of course) that I know how to continue to process life while keeping my heart, eyes and mind open. This Substack now serves as a space where I will share my music, writings, and news with you.
I have a poem for you here, from a small book that I made for my oldest son.
Music is coming very soon. I am so happy that you stayed with me during this five year pause. I hope that my work will bring joy and peace to you.
Now for the poem…
Dear Leonardo
What have you noticed today?
The sky shifting?
What is one thing that cannot be fully captured?
The hummingbird’s wings.
Dare to count the flaps per minute.
For one day
don’t look at the clock.
the sun will rise
and it will set.
It is important to embrace
the mysteries of life.
It is beautiful to say,
I don’t know.
Footnote: This newsletter is now on Substack. I will use this platform to share news, music, writings and musings. As a paid subscriber you will receive music, poems, writings and the special writings of a light-filled space. This monthly newsletter is free and will keep you up-to-date with releases, performances, workshops and my musings that I hope act as a balm for your heart.
With love, light and a song,
Kendy