Listen, dear one, as the sage speaks of his realization. He begins with a simple image: when a pot is broken, the space within it merges easily with the vast sky, without any division. Just so, with a mind purified by Shiva, he perceives no separation anywhere. There is no pot, no pot-space, no individual soul, no body for the soul; only Brahman exists—pure consciousness, free from the distinctions of knower and known. Everywhere and always, in all things, the Self alone abides—constant and eternal. All is both empty and not empty; this is the truth of the sage, and he declares it without doubt. There are no Vedas, no worlds, no gods, no sacrifices, no caste or stage of life, no family or birth; neither the path of smoke nor the path of light. The supreme truth is of the one form of Brahman. Free from the concepts of pervader and pervaded, the sage knows himself as the One when fulfilled. He wonders: how can he consider his Self as direct or indirect? Some desire non-duality, others seek duality, but neither finds the equal truth, which is free from both duality and non-duality. How, he asks, can anyone speak of the truth, which is without color, without qualities like sound and the rest, and beyond the reach of mind and speech? When all—body and so forth—is known to be false, like the sky, then Brahman is truly known; for the sage, there is no succession of duality. Even the natural Self, supreme, appears to him as not different; just as space is one, so too—there can be no meditator, meditation, or object of meditation. Whatever he does, whatever he eats, whatever he offers or gives—none of it is truly his. He is pure, unborn, and imperishable. He sees the whole world as formless, free from change, as the body of purity, and as the one form of Shiva. The sage affirms: you are the truth—there is no doubt. What else could he know again? How can the Self, which is not an object of knowledge, be considered as something to be known by itself? How, dear one, can there be illusion or non-illusion? There is no shadow or non-shadow. All is one reality, formless like space, stainless. He is free from beginning, middle, and end; never bound at any time. By nature he is spotless and pure—this is his firm conviction. All this world, from the great principle down, does not appear to him as anything; only Brahman alone is everything—how then can there be caste or stage of life? He knows, in every way, that he alone is all, uninterrupted; without support, not void, and yet the fivefold void of space and the rest. He is not a eunuch, not a man, not a woman; not knowledge, nor imagination. How can the Self be considered as either blissful or devoid of bliss? Not by the six-limbed yoga, nor by the destruction of mind, nor by the teacher’s instruction is there purity. Truth is realized by oneself, by oneself alone. The body is not composed of five elements, nor does it exist without them; the Self alone is everything—so how can there be the fourth state or the other three? He is not bound, nor liberated; nor is he separate from Brahman. He is not the doer, nor the enjoyer; free from pervading or being pervaded. Just as water placed in water is without distinction, so too, nature and spirit appear to him as not different. Even if one is not liberated, one is never bound; how can the Self be considered as having form or formlessness? He knows the supreme form directly, like the sky; just as that supreme form is like a mirage in water. There is no teacher, no instruction, no limitation, nor any action for him. He is pure by nature, bodiless, like the sky. Others claim their body is pure, their mind is the highest, and they themselves are the supreme Self—yet they are not ashamed to speak so. Why do you weep, O mind? Become the Self by the Self, within the Self. Drink, dear one, the timeless nectar of nonduality. There is neither knowledge nor ignorance, nor both together; for one whose awareness is thus, that awareness is never otherwise. Knowledge is not reasoning, nor meditative absorption; it is not place or time, nor the teaching of a guru. The sage is that reality, self-aware by nature, space-like, innate, and constant. He is not born, nor does he die; he has no good or bad actions. He is pure, without qualities, Brahman—how can there be bondage or liberation for him? If the divine is all-pervading, stable, full, and uninterrupted, he sees no separation—so how can there be inner or outer? The entire world shines forth, unbroken and continuous. Ah, what a great delusion of maya—this wavering between duality and nonduality! With form and without form, always 'not this, not this'—free from both difference and non-difference, the One Shiva alone remains. You have no mother, no father, no relative; no wife, no son, no friend. You are neither partial nor opposed—so why does this distress arise in the mind? For you, O mind, there is neither day nor night, nor rising nor setting. How can the wise imagine embodiment for one who is bodiless? Neither undivided nor divided, neither pain nor pleasure, neither all nor nothing—the Self is imperishable. The sage is not the doer nor the enjoyer; he has no actions, past or present. He has no body, embodied or disembodied—so what is this 'mine' or 'not mine'? He has no faults like passion, nor suffering of the body. He is the one Self, vast and sky-like. O friend, mind, what is the use of much talk? All this is mere speculation. What is essential has been told: you are the truth, vast as the sky. By whatever means, wherever, even at death, yogis merge there—like space within a jar merging into the sky. Whether at a holy place or in an outcaste's house, even if memory is lost at death, one who gives up the body at that moment becomes all-pervading liberation. Thus, the sage reveals the supreme truth, ever free, ever pure, ever one.