I am the light.

Sunbeams slant through open sky, slip and seep through fluttering golden leaves, and peek through panes of old glass before settling upon the wide, pine-planked floorboards where I sit in meditation. 

In my soft box of light, I narrate my breathing, In...Out...In...Out... Soon, I am focusing on the breath rather than observing the breath, and before I can slow it down, it becomes like a runaway, run-on sentence, going and going until I am gasping, leaping, tumbling, and landing onto the grassy meadow of my consciousness. 

I let go. 

I become still. 

I breathe. 

Then I pray, Empty me and fill me with light. 

For several minutes, I pray this plea. Empty me and fill me with light. Empty me and fill me with light. Empty me and fill me with light. Empty me and fill me with light. Empty me and fill me with light...

Eventually, within me, I hear, I am the light. 

As these words pour through me, a sunbeam, sudden and bold, bursts through space to shine upon my face. The sunbeam stays with me for a little while, whispering the warm words, I am the light.  I am the light. I am the light. I smile. Yes, the light is within me. The light is me. I have everything I need. I am everything I need. I am the light.