Dear one -

It’s not enough to know what we don’t want.

In and on the land we see proof that nature abhors a vacuum. Where soil is bare, something will grow.

So what is growing within the soil of our bodies and our psyches? What fruits are we ingesting when we see instance after instance of systems of power seizing life from human bodies - Black, brown, indigenous, female, disabled, queer, elderly, neurodivergent - the ones who exist at the boundaries of what our society wants us to believe is normal - the ones who threaten its existence by embodying other possibilities?

It’s not enough to throw our hands up and say “this is wrong”.

It's easy to judge what came before, to distance ourselves from our own vulnerable innocence and the protections we put in place that have become walls; to distance ourselves from what we inherited from our parents, our grandparents, our culture, in the name of progress. But what peeps out of the shadows when we do? Where does the power actually go?

Just maybe, it's enough to start with the heartbreak of wrongness, of what we didn't choose, and let the ocean of grief wash us gently towards our yearning.

(Make no mistake - beneath the shame and guilt, beneath the fear and helplessness, beneath the anger, dominance, and entitlement - there is heartbreak. And beneath that, there is yearning.)

So, what are we yearning for? Take a few deep breaths and listen to your bones.

They probably sing of a longing for connection, for kinship and belonging.

They probably sing of a wildness that wants to welcome you home and bring you fully alive in visceral and embodied ways.

They probably sing of compassion and wholeness and deep roots.

They may be singing of bridges between the wounds and gifts of long ago and the new world we can build on the dust and ashes of what no longer deserves our devotion.

The work of composting, of removal, has to happen in partnership with the work of growing, building, creating - not in opposition to something but in affirmation and devotion to something else.

This is part of why I started my podcast - I wanted to build something that was exploring, in real time, in public, what being more human, together, might look like.

It’s also part of why I originally signed up for Songs of Mother Europe.

There are many ways we can shift direction, change our inner culture, become devoted to something with deeper roots, repair ancestral ruptures. There are many ways we can engage in the labor of Love that is justice and equity work.

One way is to work with song.

Our pelvic floor has a direct fascial connection to our larynx and jaw. This means our expression, our creations, are deeply interwoven with our sense of safety, connection, stability, and belonging. Our whole, damn embodiment.

Working with sound and song are powerful ways to work with the ruptures and yearnings in our sense of rootedness. Ancestral songs of any lineage hold the amplified power of generations and an inherent sense of connection. Ancestral songs of our own lineages vibrate with a knowing in our bones, a belonging, that reweaves old lands and languages back into our bodies after diaspora.

Songs didn't used to be performances and stories didn't used to be written - our voices were how we wove ourselves into the fabric of life and knew ourselves as belonging to the world.

I’ve spiraled through almost a year of working in the ancestral song lines of European traditions and have been amazed at how much they’ve awoken for me that icharos from the Amazon, bhakti chants from India, and medicine songs from the Americas haven’t touched. My voice has changed, my confidence in visibility is shifting, and some deeper sense of purpose and connection is guiding my path. I'm feeling a different, deeper sense of wholeness.

The next round is beginning on Feb 9th. Early bird ends tomorrow, Jan 31st.

What are you doing to shift your devotion from your desire for change to your yearning?

If this feels like your next step, this link will let them know I sent you. Code KATHERINE will get you an extra 5% off.

​

Much love,

Kate

​

P.S. I never thought of myself as a singer before this. But that was before I remembered how to sing as an offering of my own presence, as a freedom of expression, as a way of connecting with things outside and beyond me; rather than as a performance that had to be perfect. And, man, does it feel good to get that weight out of my throat. Sign up before Feb 1st to get the early bird discount. Code KATHERINE should get you an extra 5% off.