These rhythms are not set by us. We are all participating in a larger creative act we are not conducting. We are being conducted. The artist is on a cosmic timetable, just like all of nature.

But I know the moon’s always there, too, waiting for its time to be seen. The day has to fall to make way for the night and the night has to surrender its place so the day can have its turn. This strikes me as a holy rhythm. I wonder if whatever created this rhythm of the tides and the sky and the sun and the moon has a holy rhythm for my life, too

So what kind of a world might it have been when we were in touch through our bodies with the universal currents? What might a kinship with the animals, the moon, and the stars have felt like, as we bled and birthed with other women in the community in a sacred way? What if, like the Cherokee today, you were able to know and believe that you came fr

You are made of the sun, moon, and stars.