All modes of experience, perceiving, acting, knowing, feeling, reasoning, for example, can also be regarded as forms of thought, as if they are all made out of the same phenomenal stuff. This is a fact about the kind of life that is ours. The modes have a kaleidoscopic variety but they are also strongly delimited in normal experience. The entanglements of these modes, up to and exceeding the limits in the normal, can force a more or less clear grasp of the pure phenomenality of experience, an unnerving but mysteriously liberating insight. The endless combinations of freedom and constraint reinforces the fascination of yet unknown possibilities of experience, and hence of the experiencer, who must be both known as the subject who desires new experience and unknown as he who is to be revealed in them. There can thus be a cult of experience, and cognate with it, a corresponding theory of the self. This is a kind of infinite dualism, but it still misses something, since in seeking the self by way of the non-self, it fails to notice that the self is oddly unchanged after and in all these experiences, filling every moment entirely as it has filled every other moment. It is numerically the same self only seeming to be dispersed among different moments and different lives and different streams of living. How can it be understood that phenomenality is not some marvellous matter confronting the self, but just the self? Thou art that.