Habit and expectation are the great cushions of experience, it is tempered so as to gentle the tearing of matter out of its inertia. If a mind were suddenly to awaken out of empty nothing into ‘this breathing world’ the sudden innervations would ring with terror in chaos. That’s as a good a possibility as your serene witness to the fully spherical phenomenon. It’s the latter that is the persistent illusion of a zero degree behind experience, the vibrant extensive background. It takes no account of the indefiniteness of interpretations and of the unpredictable genius of attention. The way it is focussed is indeterminate the most wayward genres of world building cannot be ruled out, it has to be worked on and the animus of that work has its own invisible roots in the infinities of form.