Listen, dear one, as the Self reveals its own nature—pure, supremely pure, untouched by thought, and of endless form. Stainless, utterly stainless, indivisible and vast, it is the nectar of knowledge, one in taste, measureless as the sky. In this expanse, how could Brahma or the gods find a place? Where could heavens or other abodes exist? For when the ultimate reality is one, pure, and without a second, all else dissolves; only the nectar of knowledge remains, boundless as the sky. How can words capture that which is pure beyond all negation, beyond all remainder, beyond all marks? This Self is the nectar of knowledge, one taste, vast as the sky. Always, it performs the supreme action that is beyond action and inaction, delighting supremely, free from all attachment and non-attachment, reveling in its own nature, untouched by embodiment or disembodiment—ever the nectar of knowledge, one taste, vast as the sky. The world’s construction by illusion is not a transformation of this Self; nor is the creation of crookedness or hypocrisy, nor the division into truth and falsehood. The Self is like the sky—unchanged, the nectar of knowledge, one taste. It is beyond all divisions of time, such as dawn and dusk, and knows no separation. Never devoid of inner awakening, neither deaf nor mute, it is free from all conceptual distinctions, untouched by the labels of pure or impure—ever the nectar of knowledge, one taste, like the sky. This Self has no master or disciple, remains truly undisturbed, untouched by mind or absence of mind. When all distinctions have fallen away, consciousness alone shines—undisturbed, the nectar of knowledge, one taste, like the sky. How can one describe this wilderness-like abode, or speak of the perfectly resolved doubt? Ever the same, undisturbed, the Self remains the nectar of knowledge, one taste, like the sky. It shines always, devoid of living beings and non-living, devoid of seeds and seedless, devoid of bondage and liberation. Ever shining, free from origination, free from worldly existence, free from dissolution—the nectar of knowledge, one taste, like the sky. For you, there is not even the slightest notion of name and form; nothing is truly divided or undivided. O shameless mind, why do you grow despondent? The Self is the nectar of knowledge, one taste, like the sky. Why do you weep, friend? There is no old age, no death, no suffering of birth, no transformation for you. Why do you weep? There is no true form, no deformity, no ages for you. Why do you weep? There are no ages, no minds, the senses are not yours. Why do you weep? There is no desire, no greed, no delusion for you. The Self is the nectar of knowledge, one taste, like the sky. How could you desire wealth when you have no possessions? How could you desire power when you have no wife, or the sense of ‘mine’? The Self is the nectar of knowledge, one taste, like the sky. For neither you nor I is there birth of the manifest world of marks; the shameless mind alone appears divided. There is neither division nor non-division for you or for me. There is not even the slightest trace of dispassion, passion, or desire in you. The Self is the nectar of knowledge, one taste, like the sky. There is no meditator in your heart, nor absorption; no meditation, nor any external place; nothing to be meditated upon, no object or time. The Self is the nectar of knowledge, one taste, like the sky. All that is essential has been spoken; you are not, nor am I, nor is there the great, nor teacher, nor disciple. The ultimate reality is the natural, spontaneous form of freedom—the nectar of knowledge, one taste, like the sky. How could the supreme reality here be of the nature of bliss? How could it not be of the nature of bliss? How could it be of the nature of knowledge and realization, if the supreme ‘I’ alone exists, as space itself? Know that knowledge is without fire and wind, without earth and water, without coming and going—vast as the sky. The Self is neither of empty nor non-empty form, neither pure nor impure, neither form nor formlessness in any way—its own true form is the ultimate reality. Abandon, abandon indeed the world; abandon renunciation altogether. The poison of renunciation and non-renunciation is itself pure, immortal, innate, and constant. Thus ends the third chapter. There is neither invocation nor dismissal—how then could there be flowers or leaves? How could there be meditations or mantras, or any worship of Shiva, in summary or detail? Not only is the Self free from bondage and liberation, from purity and impurity, from union and separation in yoga—it is truly liberated, vast as the sky. All this arises, truly; all this arises, falsely. Yet, for the Self, such duality has never arisen—it is dissolution into its own true nature, free from affliction. There is neither with color nor without color, neither within nor without; nothing divided within shines for the Self—it dissolves into its own true nature, free from affliction. For the Self, neither ignorance nor knowledge has ever arisen; its nature as knowledge has never arisen. How could one speak of knowledge or non-knowledge? It is dissolution into its own true nature, free from affliction. The Self is not associated with righteousness or sin, with bondage or liberation; what is joined or unjoined does not appear to it—it is dissolution into its own true nature, free from affliction. There is neither higher nor lower, nor any neutral state, nor friend or foe. How could one speak of benefit or harm? The Self is dissolution into its own true nature, free from affliction. It is not a worshipper, nor of the nature to be worshipped; there is no instruction nor any action for the Self. How could one speak of the nature of consciousness? It is dissolution into its own true nature, free from affliction. Here, nothing is pervader or pervaded, nor any abode or non-abode. How could one speak of emptiness or non-emptiness? The Self is dissolution into its own true nature, free from affliction. There is no perceiver or anything to be perceived, no cause or effect. How could one speak of the thinkable or unthinkable? The Self is dissolution into its own true nature, free from affliction. There is neither divider nor divided, neither knower nor known. How could one speak of coming or going? There is no body, nor is the Self bodiless; neither intellect nor mind nor senses belong to it. How could one speak of passion or dispassion? There is no mere appearance that is distinctly separate, nor mere appearance that is concealed. How could one speak of unity or division? The Self is neither one who has mastered the senses nor one who has not; for it, restraint or discipline has never arisen. How could one speak of victory or defeat? It is never of form or formlessness; it has neither beginning, end, nor middle. How could one speak of strength or weakness? The Self is dissolution into its own true nature, free from affliction.