She created because she wanted to remember who she was. She needed to remember the truth, that she was a child of the universe. That she was every color and shape any eye could see, and more. That she was a beating heart, ticklish skin, an active brain, long and delicate fingers. She wanted to remember that she was strong and supple and lovely, even when troubled by the dangers of the world.
She moved because she didn't want to be dimmed or damaged, or to give her self away to anyone who might say no. She wanted to to remember that she was held in the arms of life. She wanted to remember her particular angle of repose, her place without appetite or rancor. She wanted to remember that the light shines from within, and that life outside is only a mirror of what's inside.
She sat because she wanted to remember her roots, her home deep within. She wanted to remember that what flows through our roots is love, and that rooting ones toes into the sand is just another way of loving the world. She wanted to remember that she needed nothing more to make her whole. She wanted to remember that god is happiest, if that is even possible, when we live in joy and peace.
She breathed because she wanted to remember that she was one small strand in the vast and mighty web of life. She wanted to remember that she was one of many, of millions, but as integral to love and as essential to life as any rock or creature. She wanted to remember to stand firmly in her own light, to be thrown right into the middle of the spin, to be tossed by the world, but to emerge undimmed. She wanted to remember that she was both the light and the dark, the inhale and the exhale, the roots and the wings, the spinning and the silence.