The one who is truly wise sees no difference between pleasure and pain, between man and woman, between fortune and misfortune. For such a person, everything is embraced with equal vision. In their heart, there is no violence, nor any need for compassion; arrogance and dejection have fallen away. Wonder and agitation do not touch them—for their wandering has come to an end. This liberated soul is neither hostile to the objects of the senses nor attached to them. With a mind always free from attachment, they are content with whatever comes their way, and equally content when nothing comes at all. Thoughts of concentration and non-concentration, of good and bad, no longer arise; their mind is empty, knowing nothing, established as if in perfect aloneness. Without possessiveness or ego, certain that nothing belongs to them, and with every hope dissolved within, even as they act, they do nothing. Freed from both the illumination and confusion that the mind can bring, and untouched by the dullness of dream, they remain steady—whatever state arises, their mind has dissolved into peace. Ashtavakra bows to that one whose very nature is pure bliss—peaceful and radiant—who, until awakening arises, moves through delusion as if in a dream. Even if a person were to acquire all the wealth and enjoy every pleasure, true happiness cannot be found without complete renunciation. For the one whose inner self is scorched by the suffering of duty, how could there be happiness without the nectar-stream of inner peace? This entire existence is nothing but imagination, not reality. For those who discern the difference between being and non-being, their own true nature is never absent. The state of the Self is neither far away nor contracted; it is attained effortlessly, free of distinction, unchanging, and pure. When all confusion ceases and one simply accepts their true nature, those with unobstructed vision shine forth, free from all sorrow. The world, in its entirety, is but imagination; the Self is liberated and eternal. Knowing this, why would the wise behave like children, playing with practices and disciplines? Once it is determined that the Self is Brahman, and that existence and non-existence are mere ideas, what remains for the desireless one to know, say, or do? When the thought “I am this, I am not this” has faded, and all is known as the Self, the yogi becomes silent. For the peaceful yogi, there is neither distraction nor concentration, neither excessive understanding nor ignorance, neither pleasure nor pain. Whether living as a king or as a mendicant, gaining or losing, among people or alone in the forest—for the yogi whose nature is free of distinctions, none of these make any difference. Where is righteousness, where is desire, where is wealth, where is discrimination? For the yogi who has transcended all dualities, there is no sense of “this is done, this is not done.” Nothing remains to be done, nor is there any delight in the heart; for the yogi liberated while living, life simply unfolds as it is. Where is delusion, where is the world, where is meditation, where is liberation? For the great soul resting at the very limit of thought, none of these remain. Let the one who perceives this world declare it does not exist; the one without desires acts, yet sees without seeing. Let one who has seen the supreme Brahman think, “I am Brahman.” But the one who is free from all thought, who sees no second, what is there left for him to think? He who perceives agitation in the Self tries to restrain it; but the noble one, unagitated and with nothing to accomplish, does nothing at all. The wise, though their ways may seem contrary to the world and though they live among others, see neither absorption nor distraction, nor do they ever lose themselves. Content and free from the notions of existence and non-existence, without desire, they do nothing at all, though in the eyes of the world, they appear to act. Whether engaged in action or withdrawn, the wise are never confused; whatever comes to be done, they do it and remain at ease. Without desire, without support, free and unbound, they move as they will—tossed by the winds of conditioning, they drift like a dry leaf. For the one free from worldly involvement, there is neither joy nor sorrow anywhere; they rule with a mind cooler than cool, always as if bodiless. Nowhere does the wise one, who delights in the Self, feel any desire to abandon anything or any sense of loss. For the steadfast one whose mind is naturally empty, whatever is done happens spontaneously; like an ordinary person, they feel neither pride nor humiliation. The one who thinks, “This action is done by the body, not by me who am pure by nature,” even while acting, does not act. Even if they speak or act like others, the liberated one, happy and prosperous, shines forth as they move through the world. The wise one, thoroughly rested from all inquiry and having attained repose, does not imagine, is not born, does not hear, does not see. Neither distraction nor concentration, nor even the desire for liberation, remains; having determined that all is imagined, the great-souled one abides as Brahman alone. Wherever there is ego within, one acts; but for the wise one free of ego, nothing is done, nothing remains undone. The mind of the liberated one, free from agitation and satisfaction, devoid of agency and movement, without hope or doubt, shines forth. If the mind does not engage in contemplation or activity, it is simply without cause; yet, it contemplates and acts as if without motive. Hearing the truth as it is, the dull-witted become confused; or, if not confused, they contract, though someone not confused may appear as if confused. Single-pointedness or restraint is practiced intensely by the dull; the wise see no duty, remaining in their own state, as if asleep. Through effort or lack of effort, the dull do not attain peace; the wise become peaceful merely by certainty of the truth.