I’m as loose as a dried pea rattling in a matchbox, adrift from all my surroundings. Not only can I find here no solid, no surface to which things might stick, but I notice that anything rash enough to approach me is destroyed. I don’t put my hat on my head, but lose both. My food is abolished rather than digested. I am indeed no ordinary hole, but an edgeless and sideless and bottomless mine-shaft into which all comers fall to destruction. The river of the world doesn't flow through me: it loses itself in this immense gulf, and rises from this same gulf a new river.
And I find that when I clearly see myself as thus loosed from the world, I feel that way. It is impossible steadily to observe this central Gap or Hiatus without observing also that this is precisely what one is, No-thing dependent upon nothing, truly free from everything. It isn’t a matter of achieving this state, but of accepting it as unalterable fact. One has no choice here. Detachment is the mark of this 1st person, as attachment is the mark of that 3rd person. The world runs like water off this one’s back, while he is soaked to the bone.