the rhythms that sustain me

This topic arose from a conversation my best friend and I had about our personal rhythms. We’ve been having weekly FaceTime chats to keep each other accountable, to reconnect, and to share how we’ve been abiding in our own flow.

We live in a world that thrives on routine and structure that need measured hours, quarterly goals, and external proof of progress. However, we found ourselves not resonating with those patterns. I shared that men are more likely to follow routines, the cycle of the sun, while women are more likely to follow rhythms, the cycle of the moon. Our wombs are quiet timekeepers of this ancient truth. They pulse and shift with the same wisdom that guides the tides. To live by that rhythm is to return to an older intelligence: one that moves through cycles of creation, release, and renewal.

So, yes, my body has its own calendar. Some days I feel full: radiant, magnetic, ready to pour out. Other days, I am called inward, craving stillness and simplicity. Some days want movement and expression, and others require softness, solitude, and slowness. The more I listen, the more I tune into what my body already knows.

The moon waxes and wanes. So do I. When I force myself to stay full, I burn out. When I honor my inner night, I restore.

This rhythm doesn’t fit neatly into productivity charts or morning routines. It ebbs, flows, pauses, and blooms again. But it’s the only rhythm that sustains me. It’s taught me that my creativity, like my body, has phases: conception, gestation, expression, integration. That my creations, relationships, and soul-care must all honor those seasons. I don’t need to apologize for needing rest, because rest is part of the cycle that makes creation possible. So, I begin each week not with a list of goals, but with a question: What is my body asking for right now? Some days, the answer is silence. Some days, movement. Some days, devotion through art. All are sacred and worthy of honor.

Living by my womb’s wisdom has softened how I move through life. It’s less about control, more about communion. Less about doing, more about being in rhythm with what is. Because when I live by the moon within me, I don’t chase balance. I am it.