If experience simply happened there would be no problem. Perhaps it does, perhaps there isn't - isn't that the wager of phenomenology, that all is phenomenon? Maybe it is that simple, only not obviously so, simple only when you know how, only after you've done the work. Such a project is not without its successes, but successes can be misleading; you go so far and then believe that you can keep going in the same direction for as long as need be, until you get to the end. But it turns out that the end you see is a painted backdrop. You stride along and then bruise your nose against it, only to find that you are right back where you started. The nature of it is to invite you to understand it, but the very fact that it has done so you means that you cannot understand it. Meantime you have accumulated all this useless data. Say it another way, it describes the real hard problem that all of this doesn't just happen, despite all the evidence you have against the self and its errors; it wouldn't be the way it is if you weren't mysteriously implicated in creating it. You can't find the respect of yourself that is doing so, if you try to grasp it you come up with dreamless sleep, which is nothing at all, but it isn't unconscious either, and isn't an other, it's not even hiding - it's just that you can't make it play, it's that all of your games are wrong.