To go back and back behind the experiencing is to approach the witnessing subject as an emptiness of deep space without any features or density, as if you were to  progressively erase the warm phantasmagoria of the only existence you have known to reveal something cool and inhospitable and other. It may seem as if a separation is involved, as if you are leaving a station behind to melt into its own dream-like past, a little life with its joys and pains, its loves and its hard ripening truths and uncertain wisdoms, but there is nowhere for all these images to dissolve into but into what you are. There is no feeling or thought, no intimacy with the other that is not experienced in full within the subject, within that vast attentive emptiness. Every colour, every sound, every touch is formed within it and belongs to it, only without boundary and unlimited. The torsion, the drawing out and the wrench of surrender of forms these are all themselves no more than forms - there is no such surrender except as required by the internal coherence of a world which can sustain neither an interior nor any such complex idea as coherence. It is wonderful to filled with fear, and yet more wonderful and more fearful that there is no ground on which to fear.