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.