In every intimate encounter with an other can you can discern two distinct dimensions, those of intensity and depth. These same two dimensions seem to also apply to your own sense of a pervasive core self in all experience. Here the self is what makes experience possible at all and so is not different from its purely experiential correlate, the oxymoronic sense of self. Nothing about it, such as the fact that you can't attend to it or say anything properly about it, is adventitious. It is all essence to the point of having no speakable essence at all, much less an identity. And yet, you recognise these differences of intensity and depth in the non-experience of the self. Perhaps this is speaking improperly, truthfully but without any idea of what you are talking about. It could even be that they have proved to be complementary, so that your most intense intuitions of subjective being have been invariably shallow, while your deepest ones have been feather-light intimations. If you could put numbers to them and multiply them together perhaps that would yield a measure of your true weight, the heft of your presence, of the amount of metaphysical substance you have been able to accrue through traversing the crises of your motley and error-prone life? If you think of life as a process of learning or of individuation then what is behind that thought is something to do with the intimation that your task is to go as deeply and as strongly into the hidden dimensions of being.