I am an explorer. I am an artist and a designer. I am a woman of many talents. I bare in mind that my greatness is not something so grand, yet I stand in strength that it will get me by. I know not to underestimate my normality. But, despite how ordinary I may be, I stand upon this ridge and gaze out upon something much more extraordinary. This coursing river will always be more powerful, more intense, more forceful than I. It has raged forth for so long and will little interest in slowing down; it is the king of this strange land. The rocks even bow to it, like loyal subjects that want nothing more than to please their mighty ruler – the ruler that cuts them down and puts them in their place, if they should get out of line. I wish, in some amount I could be like this river. So strong and controlling; be something that would get my way if I must while also giving to the world around me. So many things rely on this river despite its strength and disinterest in yielding to the stones. It is a kind force, something so little in this world understand. I wish to be like this. A power, so mighty, that is needed and desired, but so stern and respected. To be something would be simply amazing in my eyes.
I bow my head to the river. I do not require this river. I do not need this river like the fish and the birds and the trees. I do not have to retreat like the rock faces and landscapes made of sand and pebbles. I am not indebted, but I bow, nevertheless. I respect the authority of this body of water and wonder so deeply how it came to such power all those years ago. I am high upon these rocks and wonder if I gave up all my titles, the explorer, the artist, the designer, would I be like this river?