Rocks, trees, flowers, insects, animals, rivers, clouds, these things certainly exist, you can wipe your senses clean and see them in their glowing suchness beyond all talk of appearances and displays. You may not know what they are but you know that they are - the project for clear seeing of them is finite, it terminates on success. According to the same kind of intuition your existence is not so certain, you are something ghostly and evanescent behind your eyes and the closer you look the the more its trace retreats. But this is topsy turvy, the event of the knowing must be at least as real as that which is known, and rightly more so. Whatever it is from the midst of which your life is appearing must be more real than anything you can experience. It's not what you think you are, it's what you are. So, what is it?