After I’ve been searching all over the house for my keys, after I’ve cursed and muttered and fretted, and then I finally find the keys, I feel a slight, almost imperceptible . . . disappointment. The anxious search, the excited rush, the fascinating problem is over. In this same way, would I also rather search for Reality rather than actually recognizing it? Is the chase more exciting? Do I feel that I do not deserve to recognize it? If I find the keys, I have to question the part of me that believes I am a loser of keys. If I find Reality, I destroy the “important” and habitual part of me that believes I cannot find it. Then where will all the drama go?