I AM the Light

There is a poem I keep coming back to. I don’t read it loudly. I don’t analyze it. I repeat it —quietly— like a mantra when the noise gets too heavy.

I live within the Light
I love within the Light
I laugh within the Light

I AM sustained and nourished by the Light
I joyously serve the Light For
I AM the Light
I AM the Light,
I AM the Light

I AM, I AM, I AM

Some people say the Light is God.
Some say it’s the Universe.
Some say it’s Source, energy, consciousness, something larger than us.

I don’t argue with any of that.

For me, the Light has always felt like love.

Not romantic love. Not conditional love. But the steady kind the kind that doesn’t shout, doesn’t demand, doesn’t disappear when things get uncomfortable. The kind that exists whether or not you remember it’s there.

On this journey, when I felt lost or unanchored, I didn’t need answers. I needed orientation. This poem didn’t tell me what to do —it reminded me where to stand.

To live within the Light is to choose presence over fear.
To love within the Light is to soften without losing strength.
To laugh within the Light is to remember that joy isn’t frivolous —it’s essential.

I AM is the part that stays with me the most.

Not I will be.
Not I was.
Not I should be.

Just I AM.

Whole. Enough. Here.

Whatever name we give the Light —God, Universe, Source— I believe it shows up in the same way: as love, offered freely, waiting to be remembered.

And when I forget —as I inevitably do— I return to the poem.

Not to escape the world.
But to meet it again, grounded in something true.

I AM the Light.