In one's heart one has always known...
What I find (in place of a head) is neither a point, nor a head-shaped and head-sized cavity, nor a huge empty hole without edges, but the view, the ever-changing world as it now presents itself. If I am anything at all, I am everything that comes and goes on this screen-without-a-frame—chairs and tables, men and women, trees, houses, clouds, sun and moon, the sky of stars.... The most impressive object, the most important of men, is seen to be never more than a temporary piece of the one here.
And this agrees perfectly with what one feels: this one is unique, supremely important, without any rival whatsoever. It would be mock-modesty to pretend that one has ever seriously equated oneself with people out there. Decades of indoctrination, all the while from the nursery down to the present moment, haven’t begun to persuade this one to settle down as a mere part of the Whole. In one’s heart one has always known that one is infinite, all-inclusive, overcomer of the world. Who is here? There’s only one answer that rings true and satisfies and is quite final: the one here is the Immense, the All.