Then when one hundred years had passed away, a son shining as the sun pierced the left side of the king endowed with a mighty soul, and came forth. And the son was possessed of mighty strength. Nor did Yuvanaswa die—which itself was strange. Then Indra of mighty strength came to pay him a visit. And the deities enquired of the great Indra, ‘What is to be sucked by this boy?’ Then Indra introduced his own forefinger into his mouth. And when the wielder of the thunderbolt said, ‘He will suck me,’ the dwellers of heaven together with Indra christened the boy Mandhata, (literally, Me he shall suck). Then the boy having tasted the forefinger extended by Indra, became possessed of mighty strength, and he grew thirteen cubits, O king. And O great king! the whole of sacred learning together with the holy science of arms, was acquired by that masterful boy, who gained all that knowledge by the simple and unassisted power of his thought.

— Mahabharata

You air that serves me with breath to speak!
You objects that call from diffusion my meanings, and give them shape!
You light that wraps me and all things in delicate equable showers!
You paths worn in the irregular hollows by the roadsides!
I believe you are latent with unseen existences—you are so dear to me.

-W.W.

To frame your subjective relationship to the world around you as “experience” constitutes a fundamental misparticipation. The world and its things are not for you to probe or to test. In fact, arguably, any “participation” is false consciousness. I’d much rather dispense with that grabby-handed primate phenomenology.

It is not your place to take part; there is no part that belongs to you as yours to take. So, what instead? How else for you to be with an object, and not for it to be for you? You cut through misparticipation and generate a world of coincedent appearance—you appearing in the field of its incidence, and it in yours. Live there, and take nothing.