From Earth, Wind & Fire to 'Yes We Can'
The seeds we plant without knowing
This past week, my spouse and I traveled to the East Coast to visit family.
One evening, we found ourselves at the opening night of the Tribeca Festival’s 25th anniversary, watching a documentary about Earth, Wind & Fire, with Robert De Niro on stage to open the night.
I have always loved Earth, Wind & Fire — their horns, their rhythm, the way their music moves through you.
But I didn’t know the deeper story until that evening.
Maurice White, the band’s founder, was a very spiritual visionary.
His music was meant for everyone — joy, spirit, unity across all people.
But for the Black community, his story carried something extra. He had built something extraordinary — and for a community that had been told for generations what they could not be, that mattered deeply.
For all of us in that room, the music was pure joy. But I was aware — sitting there as a white woman — that for the Black community in that audience, this story carried a weight I can only partially understand. When you grow up in a world that has historically told you what you cannot be, a voice rising from that same world saying “yes, I can” lands differently. It lands in the body. It lands in history. And Maurice White knew that.
After the film, the band came on stage. The Beacon Theater on the Upper West Side was sold out.
Everyone on their feet, singing, dancing, clapping. My spouse had found the last two available tickets — we didn’t know what we were walking into. By the end of the night, we were standing with a room full of strangers who felt like family.
It was electrifying.
The Obamas were part of the documentary. They spoke about the lyrics and deeper messages of the songs. At some point, Barack Obama said, looking at the stardom and influence that Maurice had created with the band, he asked himself: If he can do this, what can I do?
One of Earth, Wind & Fire’s most beloved songs is “Shining Star.” One of the verses in it goes: Why don’t you listen to these words of heed. Be a giant or grain of sand. Words of wisdom, “Yes, I can.”
And suddenly, the dots connected!
Barack Obama’s first presidential campaign slogan was: Yes, We Can.
A seed Maurice White planted in his music traveled across decades and took root in ways no one could have imagined.
Through the Lens of Expansive Living
In my book Shift Calling, in the chapter You Are a Pollinator, I offer this expansive perspective:
“Like bees, we pollinate others with our thoughts, insights, conclusions, and creative ideas throughout the day, whether with a colleague at work, a friend during lunch, the cashier in the store, or a family member at home.
Conversely, we are like flowers, receiving pollination from everyone and everything around us. That same colleague at work, friend at lunch, cashier at the store, or family member share their thoughts, projects, and opinions on the state of the world.
It’s a constant exchange of pollination that connects us to new ideas, trying new things, or taking action in a new and improved manner.
I don’t want you to think of all this as a metaphor.
Instead, I want you to consider it possible to practice seeing yourself as a pollinating bee and a receptive flower. If you do it with a sacred intention, then you are like the bee, gently pollinating nature, humanity, and our planet.
It’s a simple shift in our perception of ourselves. Accepting this shift leads to an openness and confidence to be of service and be served.
It’s a beautiful shift with massive rewards!”
It is a constant, invisible exchange.
Most of us move through our days without realizing how much we are giving and receiving at every turn.
A conversation that shifts someone’s thinking.
A sentence in a song that plants a question someone carries for years.
A moment of presence with a stranger that they remember long after you’ve forgotten it.
What moves me most is this: we rarely know the full reach of what we give. Maurice White didn’t know his “yes I can” would echo in a presidential campaign. He was just writing from his truth, his spirit, his vision.
Our influence travels further than we can see.
Try This
Pick someone from your childhood — a teacher or mentor, a family member, or a friend — who inspired you and who still influences you today.
What was the gift that stayed with you?
Likewise, can you remember someone telling you that you had an impact on them without you knowing it at the time?
You are always pollinating and always being pollinated. The more aware you become of this, the more intentional and alive your connections feel.
I’d love to hear from you.
Has someone ever pollinated you in a way they probably didn’t know?
Or have you discovered that something you shared long ago took root in someone else’s life?
Leave a comment below — this feels like a conversation worth having.
Sending your way blessings of earth, wind, and fire,
Anna