For those who walk the sacred path around me in reverent circumambulation, auspiciousness always arises in their lives. The very syllables of my name carry power: the sound ‘kṣi’ diminishes the burden of karma, while ‘ṇa’ bestows liberation. Thus, those who complete my circumambulation are freed from all misdeeds, their hearts lightened and purified. O virtuous one, know that in the mere moment it takes to walk around me, it is as if one has circled the entire three worlds. In ages past, those who performed this sacred act became steadfast in their rule, upheld by virtue and strength. At the turning of the Uttarāyaṇa, the auspicious northern course of the sun, I myself perform my own circumambulation for the welfare of all three worlds. In this way, I ensure the well-being of all creation. Those who complete the circumambulation, freed from sin, will again draw near to me. At dusk, Gaurī herself arranges my circumambulation, her devotion shining forth. By the prayer of the goddess, upon beholding the Jyotirliṅga, all the gods are reassured at the sacred moment of Uttarāyaṇa. There, all the divine lineages gather together, and in their presence, atonement is granted for the mass of sins accumulated over countless births. Then, having worshipped my form with true devotion, let all humans find fulfillment in their aims. I myself go before them, conquering their enemies and ensuring their stable rule. For each devotee, there will be victory over adversaries and a reign that endures. Yet, one must never perform my circumambulation by means of a vehicle. In ancient times, King Dharmaketu came from the realm of Yama. In a moment, a horse was born, and Gaṇanātha was worshipped by the gods. Observing this vehicle, which bore the form of Gaṇanātha, from that time onward, the gods led by Śakra and accompanied by Viṣṇu, set an example for all. Even a Siddha, having fallen from heaven when the fruits of his austerities were exhausted, finds meaning in this practice. The very blood from my wounded foot has circled my creator, and the great circumambulatory path is marked by fragments of stone, bearing witness to the devotion of the ages. Within the groves of wish-fulfilling trees on jeweled mountain peaks, those who show reverence to me, according to their ability, find fulfillment. All this was revealed to me by the Supreme Lord, who spoke out of boundless compassion. In these sacred places, a spider weaves its delicate webs for me, an elephant, overcome by thirst, releases honey, and worms crawl beside me, free from sin. Whoever keeps the lamp’s flame unbroken, even for a moment, is blessed. A green bird has come, nesting in a branch near me; cows are sprinkled by streams, drawn by the memory of their calves. A crow, eager for offerings, is driven by the wind of its wings, and a mouse in my cave drags clusters of jewels. Even sages and gods long to take the form of a shade-giving tree near my presence, for all wish to serve. The tower, the peak, the hall, the pavilion, and even the pond—all are sanctified in my abode. Yet, know that this fiery linga of mine is always beyond the reach of mortals. By sight, by touch, by meditation, the entire world becomes my own being. And the sole Mother of all worlds has attained eternal youth—ever fresh, ever compassionate, and ever present.