Each event that arises in the field attention, whether as the outcome of a prior volitional act or unexpectedly imposing itself, is accompanied by sense of ownership by the self, which is a distinctive and sharp modality more on the side of feeling than of thinking. It is easy to overlook the oddness of something so everyday as the fact that everything that comes up, by doing so as part of my experience, thus retraces the outline of my existence. It is not that the 'I think' is or can be added on to it that makes it mine, but the other way around; because it is mine I can reflect on it as significant for me, as a significance existing entirely within my sphere of meaning. The field of attention ought to be divided into a centre and a fringe, since when something is focal everything else arranges itself in concentric rings of receding impact all around it. Some things are peripherally attended to and can immediately become focal if the need arises, others are more distant and as if merely represented by a place-holder until changes in context might need to bring them forward. All that this means is that it is easy to disavow the way that everything must pass through the needle's eye of the 'I'. The modalities by which a thing can form part of my world are rich in versions of mediation and spatialisation so that it is natural to believe that something not in the focus of attention is still there, like the tree in the forest that no-one hears fall. This is of course precisely the transcendental illusion, and the deeply held conviction that there is something not mine is itself entirely mine.