_Be Thyself!_ does not mean: _Assert thy ego!_ It means, be true to your own integrity, as man, as woman: let your heart stay open, to receive the mysterious inflow of power from the unknown: know that the power comes to you from beyond, it is not generated by your own will: therefore all the time, be watchful, and reverential towards the mysterious coming of power into you. _Be Thyself!_ is the grand cry of individualism. But individualism makes the mistake of considering an individual as a fixed entity: a little windmill that spins without shifting ground or changing its own nature. And this is nonsense. When power enters us, it does not just move us mechanically. It changes us. When the unseen wind blows, it blows upon us, and through us. It carries us like a ship on a sea. And it roars to flame in us, like a draught in a fierce fire. Or like a dandelion in flower. What is the difference between a dandelion and a windmill? Heap on more wood! Even the Nirvanists consider man as a fixed entity, a changeless ego, which is capable of nothing, ultimately, but remerging into the infinite. A little windmill that can turn faster and faster, till it becomes actually invisible, and nothing remains in nothingness, except a blur and a faint hum. I am not a windmill. I am not even an ego. I am a man. I am myself, and I remain myself only by the grave of the powers that enter me, from the unseen, and make me forever newly myself. And I am myself, also, by the grace of the desire that flows from me and consummates me with the other unknown, the invisible, tangible creation. The powers that enter me fluctuate and ebb. And the desire that goes forth from me waxes and wanes. Sometimes it is weak, and I am almost isolated. Sometimes it is strong, and I am almost carried away. But supposing the cult of Individualism, Liberty, Freedom, and so forth, has landed me in the state of egoism, the state so prettily and nauseously described by Henley in his _Invictus_: which, after all, is but the yelp of a house-dog, a domesticated creature with an inferiority complex! “It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishment the scroll: I am the master of my fate! I am the captain of my soul!” Are you, old boy? Then why hippety-hop? He was a cripple at that!