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"There," he said "bring yourself to the light." The spot, now clearly a globe, began to get brighter and brighter until it burned with a radiance that fightened me. It felt like the inside of my skull was getting warm. I was scared it was going to burn up my brain. I started to talk but then I felt his hand on my shoulder. "Do not be afraid, the light will not hurt you. Make friends with the light. Draw it to your heart."

After a few moments of hesitation, I drew the shining globe closer in my imagination. The warmth began to feel good, comforting and intimate yet grand and exciting, as though my mother held me perfectly safe in her arms while I journeyed on some brave adventure. All the while the little black boy kept saying "... bring the light home to your heart, bring it home to your heart".

After a while, I heard a new sound, like the thrumbing of frogs in a creek at first, a low, cyclic vibration that seemed to merge perfectly with my heartbeat. As I pulled the "sun" to myself, it passed the field of my perception and the imagined "sight" of my closed eyes. I felt its warmth settle into my chest as the low thrumbing seemed to splinter into a thousand sounds, a kaliedescope of animal noises, trumpeting, growling, barking, hooting, the cacophany of nature's hue an cry; the minute whisper of a soft breeze on a blade of grass, the ultra-deep rumbles of geological phenomenon, all bound together in an impossible concert.

My entire being moved in union with the sound, my body weaved and bounced like a leaf on a pond. The little black boy had thrown a rock, breaking the surface of my life, and all I could do was struggle to keep myself upright as wave after wave rushed through me. I felt an overpowering sense of wellbeing and peace, a belonging more complete than any love I had known. I sensed that I somehow fit in a grander whole, that I was loved, appreciated and important. It was a wonderous.