Watching my nearly nineteen year old cat the other day, I wondered, for the umpteenth time, what he is thinking as he ambles about the house.  Does he know he's old?  Does he know he's a cat?  Does he know he's here--or what "here" means?
     Hard to say, I guess.  But I doubt whether he has any idea of what it means to be old, and I doubt whether he knows he's a cat, and although I believe he knows he is "here," it is probably not in the same sense that you and I know that we are "here."
     On the other hand, how do we know we're "here"?  We only know we're here because we are not anywhere else.
     But how would we know?
     Only as we are in "something" can we think that we are in "something" in turn.  Put another way, if somethingness wasn't here, how could anything else be?
     But only a "someone" would know to do that--like God.