"What would Sayuri do?"

It's a question that I find myself asking again, today.

And I realize, as I think about this question, that Sayuri has changed over the years.  She has grown up, somehow, even without me realizing it.  I think the Sayuri of yesteryear would simply not say anything, would simply be fulled along with the flow, with a quiet expression in her eyes.  But the Sayuri I know today believes in herself more than that.  She does what she believes in, wordlessly.  She is not cold as ice, not sharp like a dagger, but she can carry a silence that will undoubtedly make some uncomfortable.  It is not always a silence like that of her older sister...sometimes, it carries a warmth with it as well.

Sayuri is...careful.  I think part of the atmosphere of deliberate motion and action stems from contemplating everything before doing it.  But I think even when caught off guard by something, when put into a negative situation, she would do her best to remain composed.  To choose what is right and then follow through silently.

To be unapologetic, yet push forward with such minimal force that one need not turn around after making a mistake.  It feels almost paradoxical, but perhaps it is similar to taking a step without committing weight.

How does one push forward with so little force?  Perhaps--surely, this is something I used to know.  For now, it is something that I will meditate on.