This book accompanied me through an unusual, sleepless night. After I'd finished, the thoughts it prompted helped me remember what it was like as child, to just exist in stillness, to enjoy the dark, the quiet, and the fact that I had nothing better to do than experience them. I was able to fall asleep and stay there deeply.

However, unfortunately, my ultimate experience with the book boils down one of confusion and frustration. The prose was too nebulous and artsy to connect well with a mind deeply-rooted in logic and reason. The many grammar oddities often suggested that the words had been chosen simply because they sounded good, and not for any more compelling reason. Actually, based on my limited knowledge, this kind of writing seems classically Zen.

Allowing for the fact that this is a memoir more than anything else, or perhaps a collection of lyrical essays, the way this book is written isn't necessarily a flaw. It can be seen as a reflection of the author's experiences and personal way of processing them. I can accept that, but it doesn't change the fact that it prevented this book from fully connecting with me.