Tending to My Garden
On Discernment & An Apology.
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A year ago, my mom traveled to California with the purpose of helping me plant my first garden. It was later in the season, and as someone who had never tended to a garden of my own, I was eager to see everything planted, arranged, and flourishing. We wandered through a nursery with the intention to haphazardly gather whatever we could to get into the ground. I found myself drawn to the vivid hues of annual flowers, their bold colors promising instant satisfaction. But my mom guided me toward the quieter beauty of perennials. Though their blossoms weren’t as striking in that exact moment, she spoke of how, year after year, they would bloom again. Her words stayed with me, and the garden did indeed grow modestly that season.
This spring, she returned to help me plant. I had a small list of the plants I wanted to include: passion fruit, shallots, yellow peppers, tomatoes, mint, parsley, and calendula. My sweet friend Mary generously offered us starters from her greenhouse, and I texted my doula mentees and a couple friends to join me one Saturday afternoon for a garden party. “Come enjoy the sun and get your hands dirty!” I said. I picked oranges from the tree to squeeze into juice the old-fashioned way, using my hands. Between refreshing sips of OJ and the grounding sensation of our hands in the earth, the garden began to feel more intentional, more full of meaning. It may not yet be fully grown, but with the help of people I adore, it feels more alive, already imbued with a deeper sense of connection.
I recently became aware of a troubling situation involving a guest of the Motherlands Podcast and the company she co-founded which has been accused of falsely claiming intellectual property. This situation raised some important ethical concerns for me, and I felt it was necessary to remove the episode. It is no longer available for listening.
After spending more than a decade in the wellness world, I’ve grown increasingly disillusioned by the gap between the polished images many big-name brands present and the reality behind the scenes (and our screens). I’ve learned the hard way that not everyone who claims to care about health and wellbeing does so with integrity. I’ve seen firsthand how people—often the most vulnerable—can be hurt in the pursuit of profit or popularity. I simply cannot stay quiet anymore.
So here I am, offering a sincere apology. I deeply value the trust you place in me to choose guests who share a commitment to honesty and integrity. I believe in the importance of accountability, not just for others, but for myself as well. I know that many of us, myself included, often hesitate to speak up because we fear being labeled as ‘mean’ or a ‘gossip queen.’ But I’ve come to realize that anyone who might perceive me in that way just doesn’t understand my true intentions as an educator. And honestly that’s something I’m ready to let go of.
If you’re an artist or creator (in some way we all are), you understand how much time and energy goes into creating something meaningful, something that has the potential to inspire, to help or make a difference. And if you’ve ever had your work taken without your permission, you know the painful feeling of realizing that someone has taken what you’ve worked so hard to create, without a second thought for the effort and time you’ve personally invested.
When a client asks me for a referral, whether for a practitioner, product, or any resource, I take great care to explain why I’m so cautious about who I recommend. I try to carry this same responsibility into the Motherlands Podcast. I don’t always get it right, but I do my best to make thoughtful decisions, knowing it’s important not to contribute to a system that misrepresents or undervalues others' work. I make these choices with care because I believe that truth, integrity, and respect for others’ contributions are vital, something my mentor has made a point to remind me of over and over again.
I am learning that much like tending to a garden, maintaining the integrity of my work requires consistent attention. It’s not just about planting seeds; it’s about the patience and care that follows. To let something flourish requires more than the initial act of starting. It demands regular nurturing, sunlight, and the ongoing task of clearing away what no longer serves. Sometimes it is difficult to discern what is a weed and what may be the first sign of a bloom; you simply try your best. These rituals are time-consuming, but they offer space for reflection and a chance to connect with what truly brings joy and meaning. In nurturing the earth, I’ve observed that growth is a steady, slow process that requires a deep sense of care.
I try to carry the same commitment to presence and patience in my work as an educator, mentor, and doula. It will not always be in bloom. I try to honor all seasons, both the vibrant and the quieter ones. I believe that taking the time to slow down and listen when something doesn’t feel right is essential to supporting my own wellbeing, as well as the wellbeing of those around me. Every season, every moment, has its place, both in nature and within us. Here’s to all of us tending to the fragile, at times uncomfortable, but endlessly beautiful unfolding of the human experience.
PS: If you're a listener of Motherlands and enjoy listening on Apple Podcasts, we'd be so grateful if you could leave us a review. Apple unfortunately deleted all of the reviews from the past two years, which was a bit of a blow, but we’ll keep moving forward.
Connect with us—We are Motherlands // Keely Semler