In the vast expanse of space, there exists That which pervades all, yet nothing pervades It. Boundless and uninterrupted, It is found both outside and inside all things. Because It is so subtle, invisible, and without any qualities, yogis have described It as a support—something to rest upon in their practice. Over time, as one relies upon this support, it becomes the very foundation of their being. Yet, through constant practice, when a seeker becomes free of even this support, merging entirely into That, he dissolves, liberated from all inner qualities and faults. For the fierce poison of worldly existence, which brings the stupor of delusion, there is only one unfailing nectar—the innate realization of That—which alone destroys the poison. This That is known only through direct experience. Though formless, it appears with form; it is beyond existence and non-existence, and is called the intermediate state. The external world is manifest, the inner world is nature, and between the inner and the innermost lies something to be realized—like the water hidden inside a coconut. Mistaken knowledge belongs to the external; true knowledge resides in the middle. What is subtler than the middle must be known, just as the water inside the coconut is hidden from view. On a full moon night, there is only one perfectly pure moon; likewise, one should see That as one. Seeing it as two is a mistaken view. Thus, differences in understanding do not belong to all. The giver of this wisdom attains steadfastness, as is sung in countless names. By the grace of the guru’s wisdom, whether foolish or learned, whoever awakens to the truth becomes detached from the ocean of becoming. Freed from attachment and aversion, devoted to the welfare of all beings, firm in knowledge and steadfast, such a one attains the supreme state. Just as when a pot is broken, the space within it merges into the space outside, so too, when the body is gone, the yogi merges into his own true Self, the supreme Self. This teaching is for those engaged in action; even if their understanding ends, that is their path. But it is not meant for those established in yoga; even if their understanding ends, that is their path. The path of those engaged in action is spoken of by speech and the senses, but the path of yogis, wherever it may be, is inexpressible and attained by them alone. Knowing this path, which is not imagined by yogis, and abandoning all conceptualization, realization arises of itself. Whether at a sacred place, in an outcaste’s house, or dying anywhere, the yogi does not see the womb again, but merges into the supreme Brahman. Whoever perceives his own innate, unborn, inconceivable nature acts as he wishes, yet is not tainted by faults. Even if he does nothing, due to the absence of ego, he is neither bound nor a renunciant nor an ascetic. Free from disease, without equal, formless, without support, bodiless, without desire, beyond duality and delusion, with unceasing power—he attains that eternal Lord, the Self. Where there is neither the Veda, nor initiation, nor the rite of shaving the head, neither teacher nor disciple, nor the accomplishment of mystical devices, nor even gestures and the like—there, one attains the eternal Self, the Lord. There is neither the Shaiva, Shakta, nor Manava path, nor the physical body, nor form, nor steps such as padā, nor beginnings, completions, or vessels—there, one attains the eternal Self, the Lord. From whose own nature the entire moving and unmoving world arises, abides, and dissolves—just as foam and bubbles arise from water—there, one attains the eternal Self, the Lord. Where there is neither breath control, nor gaze, nor posture, neither knowledge nor ignorance, nor even the movement of channels—there, one attains the eternal Self, the Lord. Where there is neither multiplicity nor unity, neither both nor otherness, neither minuteness, length, greatness, nor emptiness, neither measure, object, equality—there, one attains the eternal Self, the Lord. Whether one is well-disciplined or undisciplined, well-collected or uncollected, without action or with action—there, one attains the eternal Self, the Lord. Where there is neither mind nor intellect, nor body nor senses, nor subtle elements, nor the five gross elements, nor even ego or the nature of space—there, one attains the eternal Self, the Lord. When, in creation and dissolution, one has reached the Supreme Self, and the mind of the yogi is free from division, then purity and impurity, and the sense of signs, all may be prescribed or prohibited. Where mind and speech are unable to express, how can there be the instruction of a teacher? Yet, when the teacher has spoken this teaching, its truth shines forth equally. Thus ends the second chapter. There is no division of qualities and non-qualities; nothing at all. Free from attraction and aversion, pure, without elaboration, devoid of qualities and non-qualities, all-pervading, of universal form—how can I worship here the Shiva who is of the nature of space? Devoid of white and other colors, always Shiva; this effect and cause is indeed the supreme Shiva. Thus, free from distinctions, I am pure Shiva; how can I worship my own Self within myself, O Sumitra? Without root or rootlessness, I am ever arisen; without smoke or smokiness, I am ever arisen; without lamp or lampness, I am ever arisen. I am the nectar of knowledge, of equal taste, like the sky. How can I speak of desireless desire here? How can I speak of unattached attachment here? How can I speak of essence-less essence here? I am the nectar of knowledge, of equal taste, like the sky. How can I speak of the nondual form of all? How can I speak of the dual form of all? How can I speak of the eternal and non-eternal nature of all? I am the nectar of knowledge, of equal taste, like the sky. I am neither gross nor subtle, neither coming nor going, without beginning, end, or middle, neither higher nor lower. Truly, I speak the ultimate reality: I am the nectar of knowledge, of equal taste, like the sky. Consciousness is all the senses, like the sky; consciousness is all the objects, like the sky; consciousness is one and pure, neither bound nor liberated. I am the nectar of knowledge, of equal taste, like the sky. I am not dense with difficult or easy comprehension, O dear one; I am not dense with difficult or easy perception, O dear one; I am not dense with nearness of form, O dear one. I am the nectar of knowledge, of equal taste, like the sky. I am the fire that burns up actionlessness; I am the fire that burns up both sorrow and the absence of sorrow. I am the fire that burns up both embodiment and disembodiment. I am the nectar of knowledge, of one taste, vast as the sky. I am truly the fire that burns up both sinlessness and sin; I am truly the fire that burns up both righteousness and unrighteousness. I am truly the fire that burns up both bondage and freedom from bondage. I am the nectar of knowledge, of one taste, vast as the sky. I am without both existence and non-existence, O child; I am without both union and non-union, O child. I am without both mind and absence of mind, O child. I am the nectar of knowledge, of one taste, vast as the sky. There is no notion in me of either delusion or freedom from delusion; there is no notion in me of either sorrow or freedom from sorrow. There is no notion in me of either greed or freedom from greed. I am the nectar of knowledge, of one taste, vast as the sky.