In this world, all experiences bound with pain, bringing displeasure to oneself, and those colored by delusion—clouded, indistinct, and troubled—arise from the deep roots of desire and doubt. Exultation, joy, bliss, happiness, and tranquility of mind; as well as discontent, distress, sorrow, greed, and even forbearance; disrespect, heedlessness, sleep, and drowsiness—all these many faults spring forth from the same tangled roots. The subtle difference between sattva—the quality of clarity—and the knower of the field, the witnessing self, is like the closeness of a mosquito and a fig: always found together, yet distinct by their very nature. Though they seem inseparable, they are, in truth, fundamentally apart. The qualities themselves do not know the self; but the self is ever-aware of all qualities. The senses act in service of illumination, hand in hand with pure intellect. Sattva gives rise to the qualities, while the knower of the field remains the silent observer. Neither sattva nor the knower of the field has any true support; they rest on nothing else. When one gathers the rays of the mind and restrains them in the proper way, the sage finds delight within the self, having abandoned all natural action. Just as a bird that lives in water is never wetted by the water, so too does such a person dwell in their own true nature, guided by their own understanding. Through the method of contemplation, one constantly brings forth the qualities; yet, when these qualities are destroyed, they do not return—true cessation is not found. Some declare that this is indeed cessation, while others hold a different view. Thus, the knot of the heart, made firm by thoughts and intellect, remains. Just as impure men approach a full and pure river to cleanse themselves, or as one who knows how to cross a great river suffers no distress, so too is it for those who know the Self. These wise ones, through the highest knowledge of liberation, and with steady intellect, attain tranquility. Engaged in inquiry, with focused and longing-free minds, they see the truth, even among those who are scattered and difficult to reach, whose selves are yet unrefined. Understanding this, the wise recognize it as the sole task to be done, for no higher path exists. Where virtue is present, inequality disappears. For such a one, there is neither unpleasant nor pleasant; pleasure and pain, born of action, cannot arise here. In that state, seeing the skillful, one does not grieve; even if fear appears, it is but a passing shadow. O Brahman, knowing this, a person is freed from the threefold suffering. The great sages, having realized this knowledge, attain eternal perfection. Satisfied in wisdom, their minds fixed on liberation, they exhaust the faults of birth and abide in their own true nature. Detached from all actions, even those that bring peace to the mind, they gather their senses and sit unmoving, like a log. Such a sage does not see forms with the eyes, nor tastes with the tongue. Strong in will, he does not desire the five groups that disturb the mind. He restrains his mind, which is ever drawn outward by the five senses, and thus remains steadfast, dwelling in peace.