There is really no way to know myself externally. What others see me to be is, generally, as much about themselves as about me. Most of them do not know themselves truly, so how can they know me. They know about me, not me. They see themselves and me as reflections, but I am not a reflection. To know myself, then, I must enter into the interiority of my beingness. How can I say my, when really I myself have no interiority to claim as mine? I find in this interiority, particularized in the specificity and concreteness of myself, that my interiority is really the only truth about everyone, everything. Therefore, to discover the universal, I must move into and pass through my own interiority. This is the way of the Cross for me. In intimacy with this interiority, a dying to claiming a soul that belongs to me or is separate from others occurs, and the nonspecific interiority embodied in all form opens to me - this is the passing through the veil. I find union only through dying into and resurrecting from the separateness. Yet, I do not effect either this death or resurrection, for self cannot transform self, even as separateness cannot itself see union. To see union in separateness, one must see from the other side of the veil. So, to enter into the interiority is to have no idea of who I am, or what I shall come to see. In doing this, then, I will need to resist returning to comfortable identities I have known. I must rest in the Unknown to know what is not known of myself, or better within me - within, not as opposed to without, but intimate, so close I cannot see it without Grace giving Grace to see. I find, then, the seeing of interiority is the seeing from interiority. I will not give this any name, not now. And what I have found within myself, I see everywhere.