King Janaka, ever eager for wisdom, once turned to the sage Yājñavalkya and said, “Tell us, Yājñavalkya: It is said that the mind is the abode, space is its support—one should meditate thus, as bliss. What is this bliss, Yājñavalkya?” The sage replied, “O King, the mind itself is bliss. With the mind, one approaches a woman, and a son resembling him is born; that is bliss. The mind, O King, is the supreme Brahman. The mind never abandons him, and all beings approach him.” Yājñavalkya continued, “He who knows and meditates thus, having become divine, attains the gods.” Pleased, Janaka declared, “I will give a thousand cows for this teaching.” But Yājñavalkya, recalling his father’s counsel, said, “My father thought one should not accept without instructing.” Janaka pressed, “What did he say to you?” Yājñavalkya recounted, “Vidagdha Śākalya once told me, ‘The heart is indeed Brahman.’ He spoke with the authority of a mother, father, or teacher, declaring, ‘The heart is indeed Brahman; for without the heart, one would be as if heartless.’ Yet, when asked about its abode and support, he could not answer. This, O King, is but one aspect.” Janaka then asked Yājñavalkya directly, “Tell us, what is the heart’s nature?” Yājñavalkya replied, “The heart is the abode, space is its support—one should meditate thus, as stability.” When Janaka asked, “What is this stability?” Yājñavalkya answered, “The heart itself, O King. The heart is the abode of all beings, the support of all beings; indeed, all beings are established in the heart. The heart is the supreme Brahman. The heart never abandons him, and all beings approach him.” Again, Yājñavalkya affirmed, “He who knows and meditates thus, having become a god, attains the gods.” Janaka, grateful, again offered a thousand cows. Yājñavalkya repeated his father’s teaching, and Janaka inquired further. Then Janaka, rising from his seat, humbly approached Yājñavalkya and said, “Salutations to you! Yājñavalkya, do not defeat me.” Yājñavalkya replied, “O King, just as one who prepares for a great journey readies a chariot or a boat, so, with these Upaniṣads, you have composed yourself. O wealthy Vṛndāraka, having studied the Veda and spoken the Upaniṣad, when you are released from here, where will you go?” Janaka confessed, “I do not know, revered one, where I shall go.” Yājñavalkya said, “Then I will tell you where you will go.” Janaka entreated, “Let the revered one speak.” Yājñavalkya explained, “This person who is in the right eye is called Indha; he is known as Indra, but only indirectly, for the gods love indirectness and dislike directness. In the left eye is the form of a person—she is his wife, Virāj. The space within the heart is their meeting place. The lump of blood within the heart is their food. The network within the heart is their covering, like a mesh. The artery rising upward from the heart is their path of movement.” He continued, “There are a thousand arteries of the heart, as fine as hairs split a thousandfold. Through these, the self moves and departs. Thus, when the self leaves the body, the person becomes thin, as if deprived of nourishment. For that person, the vital breaths correspond to the directions: the east to the eastern breaths, the south to the southern, the west to the western, the north to the northern, the upward to the upward breaths, the downward to the downward breaths; all directions are all the breaths.” Yājñavalkya then spoke of the Self: “This self is ‘not this, not this’; it cannot be grasped, for it cannot be grasped; it does not decay, for it does not decay; it is unattached, for it does not attach; it does not suffer.” He assured Janaka, “You have attained fearlessness, Janaka.” The king replied, “Salutations to you, Yājñavalkya. May fearlessness come to us. Revered one, you have made us know fearlessness.” Janaka extended his blessing in return, “May fearlessness come to you, Yājñavalkya, since you have made us know fearlessness. Salutations to you. These are the Videhas; I am this.” Desiring to test Yājñavalkya further, Janaka approached him, thinking, “I will debate with him.” Together, they performed the Agnihotra sacrifice. Yājñavalkya granted Janaka a boon, and Janaka chose the question of desire, which Yājñavalkya granted. The king then asked, “Yājñavalkya, what is the light of this person?” Yājñavalkya replied, “The sun is his light, O King. By the sun’s light, he sits, moves about, works, and returns.” Janaka agreed, “So it is, Yājñavalkya.” Janaka pressed further, “When the sun has set, what is the light of this person?” Yājñavalkya answered, “The moon is his light. By the moon’s light, he sits, moves about, works, and returns.” The king accepted this. “When the sun and moon have set, what then is his light?” Yājñavalkya replied, “Fire is his light. By fire’s light, he sits, moves about, works, and returns.” Janaka nodded. “When the sun has set, the moon has set, and the fire is extinguished, what is his light?” Janaka asked. Yājñavalkya said, “Speech is his light. By speech, he sits, moves about, works, and returns. Even in darkness, when speech is uttered, one moves toward it.” Janaka agreed. Finally, Janaka asked, “When the sun, moon, and fire are gone, and speech is silent, what is his light?” Yājñavalkya declared, “The self is his light. With the self as his light, he sits, moves about, works, and returns.” Janaka then asked, “Which is the self?” Yājñavalkya replied, “It is the person made of knowledge among the vital breaths, the inner light within the heart—being the same, he moves through both worlds. As if thinking, as if moving, endowed with intelligence, becoming a dreamer, he passes beyond this world.” He explained further, “This person, being born, enters a body and is joined with evils. At death, departing upwards, he casts off evil—the forms of death. This person has two abodes: this world and the other world. There is a third, intermediate: the dream state. Standing in this intermediate place, he sees both this world and the other world. And, as he moves in the other world, having entered it, he sees the results of both evil and joy. When he sleeps, taking with him the impressions of this world, having destroyed and created them himself, by his own light, by his own radiance, he sleeps. Here, this person becomes his own light.” “In that state, there are no chariots, charioteers, or roads, yet he creates them. There are no joys or pleasures, yet he creates them. There are no ponds, rivers, or lotus pools, yet he creates them, for he is the creator.” Yājñavalkya recited the ancient verses: “In sleep, having struck down the body, the sleeper shines in his own light, and, taking the pure essence, returns again to his place—the golden person, the solitary swan. Protecting the nest with the breath, the immortal one moves outside the nest, and, having wandered, he returns, the golden person, the solitary swan, wherever he wishes. At the end of the dream, the deity, moving among higher and lower forms, creates many shapes, sometimes enjoying with women, sometimes eating, sometimes seeing fearful things. People see his pleasure garden, but no one sees him. They say, ‘Let no one wake him there.’ He becomes difficult to cure, if he does not return when sought.” Some say, “This is just his waking world,” for whatever he sees while awake, that he sees while asleep—here, this person becomes his own light. Janaka, satisfied, said, “So it is, Yājñavalkya. Revered sir, I give you a thousand. Now, speak to me further for liberation.” Yājñavalkya continued, “Indeed, having enjoyed, moved about, and seen both merit and sin in the dream state, he returns again, each to its own place, for the sake of awakening. Whatever he sees there, not followed by anything else, by that he becomes; for this person is unattached.” Janaka responded, “So it is, Yājñavalkya. Revered sir, I give you a thousand. Now, speak further for liberation.” Again Yājñavalkya said, “Having enjoyed, moved about, and seen both merit and sin in this dream, he returns again, each to its own place, for the sake of awakening. Whatever he sees there, not followed by anything else, by that he becomes; for this person is unattached.” Janaka repeated his gratitude and request. Yājñavalkya added, “Having enjoyed, moved about, and seen both merit and sin in the waking state, he returns again, each to its own place, for the sake of dreaming. Just as a great fish moves along both banks, the eastern and the western, so this person moves along both these boundaries—the dream state and the waking state. Just as a bird or a swan, flying in the sky, wearies and folds its wings, so this person hastens to that limit where, being asleep, he desires nothing and sees no dream.” He described the subtlety of the body: “As many as there are arteries in this body, just as a hair is split into a thousand strands, so many are their channels, filled with white, blue, yellow, green, and red. Then, when one seems to be struck, subdued, or grasped, or cast into darkness, or falls as if into a pit, or sees frightening things while awake, that is the fear produced by ignorance. But when one thinks, ‘I am the king, I am the divine, I am all this,’ that is his highest world. Then, in deep sleep, he desires nothing at all, nor does he see any dream.” “This, indeed, is his own true desire, fulfilled, without further desire—such is its form. Just as when embraced by a beloved woman, one is not aware of anything outside or inside, so too, this person, embraced by the intelligent Self, is not aware of anything outside or inside. This is the state of complete freedom, untouched by evil, of unbounded form, and inner joy without sorrow.” “In this state, the father is no longer a father, the mother no longer a mother, the worlds are not worlds, the gods are not gods, the Vedas are not Vedas, the sacrifice is not a sacrifice. Here, the thief is not a thief, the killer of a fetus is not a killer of a fetus, the outcaste is not an outcaste, the mendicant is not a mendicant, the ascetic is not an ascetic; he is not touched by good or evil; having crossed all sorrows of the heart, he becomes free from them.” Yājñavalkya spoke of the imperishable seer: “When he does not see, yet seeing must be understood here. He does not see; for there is no cessation of the seer’s seeing, because it is imperishable. Nor is there a second thing here, separate from it, that he could see. When he does not smell, yet smelling must be understood here. He does not smell; for there is no cessation of the smeller’s smelling, because it is imperishable. Nor is there a second thing here, separate from it, that he could smell. When he does not taste, yet tasting must be understood here. He does not taste; for there is no cessation of the taster’s tasting, because it is imperishable. Nor is there a second thing here, separate from it, that he could taste. When he does not speak, yet speaking must be understood here. He does not speak; for there is no cessation of the speaker’s speaking, because it is imperishable. Nor is there a second thing here, separate from it, that he could speak to.