Someone was drawing water and my teacher placed my hand under the spout. As the cool streams gushed over one hand, she spelled into the other the word "Water," first slowly, then rapidly. I stood still, my whole attention fixed upon the motions of her fingers. Suddenly, I felt a misty caress as of something forgotten—a thrill of returning thought; and somehow the mystery of language was revealed to me. I knew that "w-a-t-e-r" meant the wonderful cool something that was flowing over my hand. That living word awakened my soul, gave it light, hope, joy, set it free!
I was regretting the past and fearing the future. Suddenly You were speaking:
"My name is I am." You paused. I waited.
You continued. "When you live in the past, with its mistakes and regrets, it is hard. I am not there. My name is not I Was."
"When you live in the future, with its problems and fears, it is hard. I am not there. My name is not I Will Be."
"When you live in this moment, it is not hard. I am here."
"My name is I Am."