Aware of this singularity, me becomes present.
And there is you. You, in your singularity of experience, just now. Just here.
Moments travel from one to the next and we touch others, the us of moments. And we go forward in space and time to out there.
That is all. The past is a construct of memory. It does not exist.
Ideas of what will be are cast shadows. The light is you. And what gets in its way are hopes and fears and doubts, expectations and conjurings. Without those, out there is bright, lit with our unending flame. The moment, the here, the now, you and me, and love. Love.
Love is the active present. Anything other than love is the past or the future, which are only echos of the now. Let every Now echo forth your choosing, your future memory of a past that no longer exists, but is a joy to recall into the present moment, with me, with you, with us, as we go forth into the out there.