In the play of pure consciousness, where is the division line that separates us from all that is? Is it the skin of our body that somehow defines the limit of our existence, or is it our mind and all our own thoughts that keeps us isolated in some little world? Could it rather be, that every thought, every memory, every emotion, every association, every perception; are locked in an idea of an individuated form, that instead supports our individuated segregation from consciousness.