Think your way to an impasse, over freedom, over consciousness, truth, purpose, life, any key term you like and you bump up against something from outside something you can't think past. It's how you proceed from that small shock that matters. You can fold thought over on itself and assume a sort of second-order attitude, you can attitudinise, plant your flag, go and search out what others have said on arriving at the same place. The frontier is lively, the possibilities are endless, a sort of festive atmosphere prevails. But all of this would be to refuse to leave the mind, to get off the train, to refuse to believe that you've arrived at the end of it. To do otherwise you'd have to let meaning fall away and take to pure experience, that is, what can only be yours, can only be here and now, that stands for nothing but itself. This is the destiny of meaning, to give itself up to non-meaning, without a fuss, taking its bearings in solitude, stepping forth, going home.