The whole of our world of experience is an experience of pure pattern. Just (as it were) formation or process without any substantiality in it at all: a pattern of form constantly rippling and changing and shifting, and always flowing, as it were, from one thing to another. Try and conceive, then, the idea of all the forms and things of the world as being form, and nothing but form, and having, as it were, no stuff underneath its constantly shifting changes.