Tend
/tend/
verb
care for or look after; give one's attention to.
direct or manage; work in.
wait on as an attendant or servant.
(as per Google.)
Leaning into these definitions:
My daughter
Our home - the bones and the fillings
Wrangling bittersweet throughout the yard
Redefining my definition of ‘enough’
Gratitude - seeking it, choosing it
My daughter
Our home - the bones and the fillings
Wrangling credit card debt
Redefining how long is too long before getting my car’s oil changed
redefining ‘enough’
That which we tend has become a mantra that is helping me redefine my version of ‘enough’. A practice that must take place on a daily, if not hour-by-hour basis, if I am to continue calling myself “artist” or “poet” while also calling myself “mother”.
What am I tending in this moment? The fear or the joy? The lack or what’s on hand? Am I focusing on what will rebloom in the garden this year, or what’s missing from my (lengthy) ‘to plant’ list?
I pull out my paints and give it a home in my Commonplace Book1 (as shown above).
We do not have the time or money to build a full garden this summer. One thing I’m finally learning after nearly 38 years in this particular meat suit in this particular lifetime - focusing on what one does not have at their disposal rarely creates momentum towards beneficial change.
So, we will plant our herbs and a vegetable or two in the pots carelessly left behind in our yard. We will put these pots on the porch - close enough to the house to deter hungry critters without having to build a fence. Close enough to the sink that we won’t need to dream up a new watering process.
We will do the things we long for, that bring us joy and peace, even if it is not in the way we envisioned it through the long winter. Even if it is not as grand as we hoped.
Come fall, I will make my own tea, instead of buying herbs to blend at the local apothecary.
I was recently passed over for a scholarship for a writing program I was very interested in. I do not mourn being denied financial assistance- I believe the opportunity to be in a course like this will present itself when the time is right.
The facilitator of this program is a person I do not know personally, yet admire. She wrote me a very kind note in response to my application, that held the following quote (which will also be going in my Commonplace Book):
“… while I absolutely believe in the beauty of abundance, there is also a valuable quality to the waiting, the holding, the longing that I trust can refine our devotion to our crafts all the more. It keeps us close to the soil, whereas those who are able to access anything, anytime... may have a harder time experiencing the riches of being without ornament.”
This gal went on to speak of her own longings, her own financial strain. I was surprised by these admittances, as in my mind, everyone I admire has it figured out, financially and otherwise.
This is one thing (of 1,237,649,885) that gets overlooked so easily in this era of fast content (hello, Substack) and perceived gurus - that we are all figuring it out as we go. That so many of us wouldn’t define ourselves as financially successful, no matter how many things we have, in actually, accomplished. That the waiting itself could just be enough.
Tend and mother are verbs of a feather.
We are wrangling bittersweet like there’s no tomorrow at our old farmhouse. I can already feel the land exhaling.
Since we moved into this house in 2022, we have been mostly at odds with one another. A feeling of atonement sharp and present.
Slowly, we tend to this old bard. We chop and pull bittersweet, pull the tarp tighter over the barn roof, fix this and that leak, whisper sweet nothings to the walls, dance on the nearly 300 year old pumpkin floors. The spirits here are getting to know us better, coming to recognize us as friends and stewards.
I believe we are entering a new era with this/our home.
on the table: March edition
North Woods by Daniel Mason
Path of Totality: Poems by Niina Pollari
Divination with a Human Heart Attached by Emily Stoddard
Lace & Pyrite by Ross Gay & Aimee Nezhukumatathil (see photo below for fragment)
World & Time Enough: On Creativity and Slowing Down by Christian McEwen
Forsythia clippings, in full bloom
Arteza water-based ink brush pens
Homemade rose syrup + coffee
I make these random little story-scenes (as shown below) quite often. Like one every couple days often. For too long, I figured no one would care to see them. I see now how this thinking detracts from the act of tending, to connecting with other artists, and thus detracts meaning from my definition of ‘enough’. And so, I share one with you today.
in closing, a poem
pulling fragments:
beginning to open / wrangle, chop and pull / world and time enough / redefine enough / build a garden / path of totality / yet admire / devotion to our crafts / keeps us close to the soil / ornament / I will make / direct attention / we will do the things we long for / commonplace / through the long winter / that which we tend
reweaving:
Wrangle, chop and pull
Devotion opens us.
Keeps us close
to the soil.
Through the long winter
directed attention
builds a garden of enough.
It is commonplace,
that which we tend.
Yet it might be the path of totality
we long for.
As always, it’s an honor to be here with you. Spirit Food is a place for connection. As such, I would love to hear about what is stirring your imagination or poetic process. What your current definition of enough looks like. What you're devoted to these days. Drop a comment, shoot me a DM (which is apparently now a thing on Substack), or simply reply to this email (should you be reading this in your inbox).
Until soon,
your friend in poetry,
Kat
let’s gather: lines for the common
Poets, secret poets, and those new to creative writing - join Poetry Forge and I in defining enough, investing in the beauty and necessity of the commonplace, in play for an hour.
Lines for the Common is a one-off, one hour workshop where we’ll explore the art of commonplacing - a practice that is deepening my own process in this season of life, tending and general busyness.
We meet virtually this Wednesday, March 27th, from 4-5pm EST. Register here.
Beautiful story scene. Please share more 🤍
Beautiful.
“I believe in an underworld littered with gems” — ooof 😮💨💖
I was also passed for a course scholarship last year (the same one twice!). It brought up a lot of things me that I wasn’t expecting, but was happy I got to see the underbelly of and feel through it.
Lastly, homemade rose syrup? 🥲🌹am I speaking for the collective when I say we’d love details on this? xx