Chapter 4 page 5

Crowds of people going about their day in a busy city. Out in the undeveloped wilderness, a night sky filled with the view of a starry galaxy is ringed by silhouettes of evergreen trees. Deep inside, a tunnel-like view full of holes, like lotus roots or bone marrow.
It seems to me there are different types of knowing.
One, you don’t know. And you don’t know that you don’t know.
Two, you don’t know. But you know there’s something you don’t know.
Three, you know. It’s there, in the air around your mind. An intellectual, abstract, distant knowledge.
Four, you know. It penetrates deep into the marrow of your bones. It’s there, in every pore of the very fibre of your being.
You know.
You know.