How do I know myself, alive in a body, knowing the universe, to scale: micro to macro? 

Alive to know belief and sorrow; certainty and joy. . . 

. . . Becoming knowledge of being in progress of becoming! 

How is that possible? 

Why have I no succinct answer to this? 

How is THAT possible? 

I know being  described by the inexplicable void, in the face of overwhelming existence, certain to be itself, empty and illusory: matter and space, experience and knowledge. 

I am  conscious of my unconsciousness: beyond that, busy and ever-changing, story upon story, appearance within appearance. . .