It's not that there is anyone to suffer a delusion, or to be constrained out of his true nature, or bound to a destiny. It is more as though the energy of sentience is playing in a certain register, playing a certain tune, and of there being a sort of attractor that keeps on reproducing the pattern in ever new forms. It is because it is happening in such a complex and interwoven apparatus that so many difficulties seem to arise, and marvelous complications where the boundaries seem for a moment to evaporate. But it's not enough to just be the process, you need to reflect on it as well, as if a cup or a telephone had an uneasy drive to understand cup-ness or telephone-ness, and imagined that its sole purpose was to fulfill that need. A cup or a telephone is only contingently a cup or a telephone. Someone else, or better some other process of mind which also does not know itself, has the job of reflecting on their essence - with the result that cup or telephone is 'reinvented'. The analogy with a certain unique pattern that keeps coming back recognisable in ever new forms, like a musical motif, seems right, however, seems to point to the way that you keep re-emerging, "in a recurring wave/ Of arrival." But how do you recognise yourself, why is there this familiar and intimate quality to it, a sort of homecoming? No longer a sound, but a flavour and a smell, the very essence of the matter. You are always trying and failing to reinvent yourself because there is nothing sweeter that this failure that brings you around again, saturating the here and now.