The more I meditate the more I am becoming aware that there is something going on at an unconscious level. What? I do not know, but there is a subtle mood which percolates through into consciousness, a sense of peace, a calmness. The problem of ‘Who am I?’ and how ‘I’ can survive the dissolution of the body, which so used to exercise me because it seemed insoluble, worries me no longer. I know – strange that, I just know – that the self-conscious me is not me. That the real me has yet to be discovered. Perhaps ‘discovered’ is not the right word. It implies that there is an already existing entity hidden round the corner, out of sight, so to speak. It does not do justice to the dynamic process that is the person. ‘Achieved’ might be better.