All I have, through which I experience everything, is this body, these senses, and this brain. I can only know anything or anyone through this, which we typically call me. I may think I know someone else, my daughter for example, but I only know her as she is filtered through this.

Doesn’t it make sense to become intimate with this? To take time to examine it, come to understand it, discover how it works, and how it’s fallible? If I do not know this—its thoughts, its emotions, its intuitions—can I be sure about anything?