I was filled with insight, the way my skull is filled with my brain. The insight sat snugly inside me, as if the cavity had been designed to be exactly the right size to fit it. The insight was something like this: distinguishing between the outside world and my inner existence was abruptly revealed to me as a false step. Or not quite that. It was the realisation that I had been construing that distinction wrongly all this time. It was not a separation. It was an inflection, a refinement. It was a connection. The world and I constituted not two separate things, but a totality.
