Perhaps the true self is a hard little stone surrounded by flesh and fears and desires. Cut everything away. Bleed until the blood has soaked into the earth around the stone. Then properly examine your self.

But it remains mysterious, complete, impenetrable, radiating its own light!

. . .

If not a stone, then a star. A little fiery ball of gas. Better metaphor. Stone is breakable, however hard. You can craft a hammer from diamonds, or even harder stuff.

. . .

But you can slice gas when it's frozen!

Then a comet. Keep moving, so as to not get that cold, through every fear, every anxiety, every dilemma of this ever-changing, every expanding present.

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