The sages teach that the many worlds—bhuvanas—spoken of in the Purāṇas are also acknowledged in the Śivāgama, and that certain fundamental principles, or tattvas, are described in the philosophies of Sāṃkhya and Yoga. In addition to these, there are other tattvas, well known in the scriptures devoted to Śiva, which must be considered in their entirety. All these principles are pervaded by the kalās, subtle powers, each in its own proper order, just as they are. At the dawn of the supreme Prakṛti, the primal nature, these kalās—beginning with Nivṛtti—spread through the fivefold transformation, pervading each aspect in succession. When we consider how all things are pervaded, it is clear that the supreme power is not divided among the six spiritual paths; rather, the existence of the supreme nature is established from the very principle of Śiva. From Śakti and all that follows—down to the earth itself—every level arises from the Śiva principle. All are pervaded by that one alone, just as a pot and other clay objects are pervaded by the substance of clay. The supreme abode of Śiva, which is to be attained by traversing the six paths, is suffused by both the pervading and the non-pervading power, through the purification of the five tattvas. From Nivṛtti up to Rudra, the cosmic egg is purified by the power of Sthiti; above that, up to the unmanifest domain, by Pratiṣṭhā. Higher still, by Vidyā; in the middle realms, up to Viśveśvara, by Śānti; and above that, at the very end of the middle, by Viśuddhi, through the state called Śāntyatītā. This supreme space, united with the supreme nature, is thus pervaded by these five tattvas, which encompass the entire universe. There, all seekers must behold this truth. For one who attempts purification without understanding the pervasion of these paths is deluded and cannot attain the fruit of purification; his efforts are in vain and lead only to suffering. Without the descent of power, the true nature of the tattvas, their pervasion, and their growth cannot be known. This supreme power, the queen of energies, is the very nature of consciousness and the sovereign of the heart. By her, who is the fundamental cause, Śiva pervades all. She is neither the individual self nor Māyā, nor any modification; she is neither bondage nor liberation, though she brings about both bondage and liberation. Having reached the highest peak of all lordship, she is the inseparable companion of Śiva, sharing his very nature, yet manifesting in various states. He is apprehended only through her, and she is always held by him; their union gives rise to the universe, which is the effect born of their supreme embrace. He is the doer, she is the cause—thus their distinction is established; yet, in truth, Śiva alone stands as both, manifesting in dual form. Some say their distinction is like that of female and male; others hold that the supreme power is inherent within Śiva. Like the radiance of the sun, she is conscious and yet distinct from him—thus it is determined. Therefore, Śiva is the supreme cause, and his command is the highest sovereignty. Impelled by her alone, the Shaiva primal nature, imperishable, becomes the great Māyā—the very Māyā itself—and the threefold nature called Prakṛti. Through her threefold effects, she produces the sixfold paths, and the entire world, composed of six kinds, is made of word and meaning. The scriptures expound in detail the full extent of this alone. Yet, the wondrous and profound deeds of this supreme principle are difficult even for the gods to comprehend, and they bewilder our minds. In the essential union of Śiva and his power, there is no fault to be found; through their deeds, even the ordinary states of existence are manifested. Even Brahmā and the other gods, who preside over creation, preservation, and dissolution, are subject to Śiva’s will, whether he restrains or bestows grace. But Śiva himself is not under the sway of restraint or grace for anyone; his sovereignty is utterly independent—this is certain. If such is his sovereignty, it is characterized by absolute freedom; this, being his own nature, may have embodiment as its abode. However, form does not pertain to one who is absolutely free, for form arises from a fundamental cause; and since form is itself an effect, its existence would be causeless. Everywhere, the supreme state is spoken of, and alongside it, the non-supreme; but how can both the supreme and the non-supreme states exist together in one? For the supreme nature of the Supreme Self is fruitless; why, then, does the entire manifest world exist, if its nature is unchanging? If the inherent nature is contrary, and the Lord is independent, why does he not, by his own will, create the confusion between the eternal and the non-eternal? It is commonly said that one is the embodied, the complete, and another is Śiva, fruitless, established by Śiva himself. At such a time, embodiment itself becomes the form of this Śiva; thus, in the form, dependence between the embodied and the form is certain. Otherwise, how could form be accepted without any consideration? Therefore, the acceptance of form is for the sake of attaining a desired result. Indeed, embodiment by one’s own will does not accord with absolute independence, for in people, such will always follows action. Brahmā and others, down to the spirits, can assume and abandon bodies at will; but do they transcend action? They know that creating a body by will is like an illusion, for mastery over powers such as minuteness does not surpass their control. Viṣṇu, assuming the form of the universe, was once seen by the great sage Dadhīci, who himself took on that form while engaged in battle. Even for Śiva, the Supreme Self, who is above all, embodiment appears to us as similarity with other selves. Thus, the wise declare Śiva to be the supreme cause and the universal benefactor; yet, how does he, who bestows grace upon all, also restrain the gods? This, too, is a mystery of his supreme sovereignty.