Mocked and scorned by servants, sons, wives, grandsons, and relatives, the yogi simply laughs, remaining utterly undisturbed. Though he may appear content or afflicted, he is truly beyond both satisfaction and sorrow—a state so wondrous that only those like him can understand it. For such a sage, the sense of obligation is the very fabric of worldly existence, yet the wise, who are formless, changeless, and free from affliction, do not see themselves bound by it. While the confused mind is restless and agitated even in inaction, the skillful remain undisturbed even while acting. Their peace is unshakable: they sit, sleep, come and go, speak, and eat with happiness, their minds at rest in every action. This one, untouched by suffering and unlike ordinary people caught in the world, shines unmoved and serene, like a great lake free from all distress. For the deluded, even withdrawal from the world becomes a kind of activity; but for the wise, even activity brings the fruit of withdrawal. Detachment from possessions is often found in the foolish, but for one whose hope in the body has vanished, there is neither attachment nor detachment. The mind of the deluded is always attached to imagining or not imagining, but for one established in himself, the mind is free from all such visions, whether thoughts are present or absent. The sage acts without desire in all undertakings, like a child—pure and untouched by action, even while performing it. Blessed indeed is the knower of the Self, who remains equal in all situations—seeing, hearing, touching, smelling, eating—his mind free from craving. Where is the world, illusion, attainment, or even spiritual practice for one so steadfast, who is always without distinctions, like the sky? Victorious is the renouncer of possessions, whose nature is full and spontaneous, whose absorption is uncontrived and unbroken. What more can be said? The great one who knows the truth, desiring neither enjoyment nor liberation, remains always indifferent, everywhere. Having abandoned the dualistic world, which arises only as names from the great principle downward, what duty remains for one of pure awareness? For the one convinced that all this, even the mind’s wanderings, is only illusion and nothing truly exists, the pure, ungraspable radiance settles by its own nature. For the one whose nature is pure radiance, who does not see objects as real, where is rule, renunciation, abandonment, or even tranquility? For the one who shines in infinite forms and does not see nature as real, where is bondage, liberation, joy, or sorrow? In the world of mind, limited by intellect, only illusion appears; the wise one, free from possessiveness, ego, and desire, shines forth. For the sage who sees the Self as imperishable and free from suffering, where is knowledge, the universe, the body, or the notions of “I” and “mine”? If a dull-minded person abandons actions like restraint, he quickly indulges in fantasies and idle talk. Even after hearing the truth, the dull one does not give up his delusion; though outwardly undivided, he inwardly craves sense objects. But for one whose actions have fallen away through knowledge, though he may appear to act in the eyes of the world, he does not truly engage in action, nor is there any occasion to speak of action. For the unchanging, steadfast one who is always free from fear, there is neither darkness nor light, rejection nor anything at all. Where is courage, discernment, or even fearlessness for the yogi whose nature is inexpressible and without any inherent quality? There is no heaven, nor hell, nor even liberation while living; what more needs to be said? From the perspective of yoga, there is nothing at all. He does not seek gain, nor grieve over lack; the mind of the steadfast one is cool, filled only with nectar. The desireless one does not praise the peaceful, nor blame the wicked; content in pleasure and pain alike, he sees nothing to be done. He does not hate the world, nor does he seek to see himself; free from delight and resentment, he is neither dead nor alive. Without attachment to children or spouse, without desire for sense objects, unconcerned even for his own body, the wise one shines, free of hope. Content everywhere, moving as circumstances arise, wandering freely through lands, sleeping wherever night falls—such is the steadfast one. Whether the body falls or stands, the great soul has no concern; resting in his own nature, he has forgotten all cycles of becoming. Having nothing, moving as he wishes, free from duality and with all doubts cut off, unattached to all things, the wise one delights in his own being. He shines, free from possessiveness, regarding clod, stone, and gold alike, with the knots of the heart completely broken and all passion and darkness dispelled. For the one unattentive everywhere, no impressions remain in the heart; who can be compared to the liberated, contented self? Though knowing, he does not know; though seeing, he does not see; though speaking, he does not speak—who else is like this, except one free from all impressions? Whether a beggar or a king, the desireless one shines, his mind having let go of judgments of good and bad in all things. Where is freedom, restraint, or certainty of truth for the yogi who is fulfilled, whose nature is pure, straightforward, and without pretense? For one satisfied in the self, without hope and free from suffering, whatever is experienced within—how can that be described, and to whom? Even when asleep, he is not in deep sleep; even in dream, he does not lie there; even when awake, he does not awaken—the steadfast one is fulfilled at every step.