I am that which emerges when I get out of my way.
I am not anything I point to and think, “This is me.”
I am just me, here and now.
I am not different from you.
I am where the ink of the brush meets the paper.
I am not solely responsible for creating anything of myself.
I am the sun.
I am not any more special then the pebble I keep in my pocket as a remembrance of who I am.
I just am.