It costs me nothing to feel that I am; it is no burden to me. And yet if the mental physical chemical and other innumerable facts concerning all branches of knowledge which have united in myself could be broken up they would prove endless. It is some untold mystery of unity in me that has the simplicity of the infinite and reduces the immense mass of multitude to a single point.
This One in me knows the universe of the many. But in whatever it knows it knows the One in different aspects. It knows this room only because this room is One to it in spite of the seeming contradiction of the endless facts contained in the single fact of the room. Its knowledge of a tree is the knowledge of a unity which appears in the aspect of a tree.
This One in me is creative. Its creations are a pastime through which it gives expression to an ideal of unity in its endless show of variety. Such are its pictures poems music in which it finds joy only because they reveal the perfect forms of an inherent unity.