Member-only story
The Moon And Your Story
From the moment their car pulled out of the driveway, Mika started crying. I knew exactly what to do. She had her own lullaby, and I hummed it to her, because it didn’t have words and it always made her smile.
She was still screaming, so I handed her to the Baby Whisperer, but he handed her right back.
That’s when I remembered the moon.
I took all her clothes off. It was winter on Kauai, but Mika always ran hot, and I knew not to present this child to the moon with her clothing on.
I held her naked, screaming body up to the ball of light, on Kolo Road, her folds of thigh flesh, her round blue eyes.
I presented her to the moon, and presented the moon to Mika.
She became silent, her sea blue eyes staring at the almost full face through the tall Cook Pines. I walked her up and down the concrete walkway on the side of the stone plantation house, and she never took her eyes off the moon.
— Laura Lentz
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“Our culture was built upon and benefits from the control of women…..
Not only women, but also nature, matter, body, the unconscious and especially people of another tribe…”
— Glennon Doyle
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