In the sacred halls of knowledge, a profound teaching unfolds about the nature of the Self and its ultimate reality. It is said that when one does not hear, hearing must still be understood here. The Self does not cease to hear, for the hearer’s hearing is imperishable. There is no second thing apart from it that could be heard. Similarly, when one does not think, thinking must still be understood. The thinker’s thinking is unending, for it is imperishable; there is no separate object to be thought of. When one does not touch, touching remains present, for the toucher’s touching is imperishable, and there is nothing else apart from it to be touched. When one does not know, knowing must still be understood, for the knower’s knowing is imperishable; there is no separate thing to be known. If there were something else, then one would see another, smell another, taste another, speak to another, hear another, think of another, touch another, and know another. But in truth, like water, only the seer exists—without a second. This is the world of Brahman, the highest attainment, the supreme state, the highest world, the greatest bliss. All other beings live on but a fraction of this bliss. Among men, the happiest is he who is prosperous, fulfilled, lord over others, and endowed with all human pleasures. The bliss of such a man is the highest among humans. Yet, a hundredfold of this human bliss belongs to the ancestors who have attained their world. A hundredfold of that is the bliss of the gods who have earned divinity through their deeds. A hundredfold of that is the bliss of the gods by birth, and of one who is learned, sinless, and unshaken by desire. A hundredfold of that is the bliss of Prajapati’s world, and of one who is learned, sinless, and unshaken by desire. A hundredfold of that is the bliss of Brahman’s world, and again of one who is learned, sinless, and unshaken by desire. This is the world of Brahman, the state of immortality. King Janaka, eager for liberation, offers a thousand cows and requests further teaching. Yajnavalkya, the sage, sees the king’s wisdom and feels a stirring of concern: “The wise king may surpass us all.” Yajnavalkya continues: After enjoying and moving about in the state between waking and sleep, seeing both merit and demerit, the Self returns again, by the same path, to each new birth, for the completion of knowledge. Just as a heavily loaded cart moves along, so does the embodied Self, mounted on the intelligent Self, move onward, leaving the body when the upward breath departs. When the Self reaches its subtle state—through old age or being struck down—it departs from the body, just as a ripe mango, fig, or berry releases from its stalk. The person, freed from the limbs, returns again by the same path to each new birth, sustained by the vital breath. As a king’s arrival is anticipated with preparations of food, drink, and lodging, so all beings prepare for one who knows thus, saying, “This is Brahman coming, this is Brahman approaching.” When a king is about to depart, his officials gather around him; likewise, all the vital breaths gather around the knower of Brahman as he is about to breathe upward. When the Self withdraws its strength from the body, as if into unconsciousness, the vital breaths come together around him; taking only the measure of his light, he moves toward the heart. When the person who dwells in the eye turns away, he no longer perceives forms. People say, “He becomes one; he does not see, smell, taste, speak, hear, think, touch, or know.” The tip of the heart becomes illuminated; by that light, the Self departs—through the eye, head, or other parts of the body. The vital breath follows, and all other vital breaths follow it. He departs with consciousness, knowledgeable and aware. His knowledge, deeds, and former understanding accompany him. Just as a leech draws itself together at the end of a blade of grass, so does this person, after leaving the body and casting off ignorance, draw himself together. Like a goldsmith who fashions a new, more beautiful form from gold, the person, after leaving the body and casting off ignorance, fashions for himself another, newer, and more beautiful form—ancestral, celestial, Brahmanic, Prajapatyan, divine, or of other beings. This Self is Brahman, composed of knowledge, mind, speech, breath, sight, hearing, space, air, fire, water, earth, anger, non-anger, joy, non-joy, righteousness, unrighteousness—he is everything. As he acts and behaves, so does he become. The doer of good becomes good; the doer of evil becomes evil. By virtuous action one becomes virtuous, by evil action one becomes evil. They say, “This person is made of desire.” As his desire is, so is his will; as his will is, so is his action; whatever action he does, that he attains. A verse declares: “He, together with his actions, goes to whatever object his mind is attached to, having reached the end of his deeds. Whatever he does here, he returns again from that world to this world for action. But one who is without desire, free from desire, whose desire is satisfied, whose desire is the Self—his vital breaths do not depart; being Brahman, he merges in Brahman.” Another verse proclaims: “When all desires that dwell in the heart are released, then the mortal becomes immortal; he attains Brahman here.” Just as a snake sheds its skin and lies discarded on an anthill, so does the body lie; but the disembodied, intelligent Self, having attained the Supreme, is immortal. Janaka again offers a thousand cows and requests further teaching. Verses are recited: “Narrow is the path, ancient, untouched and untraversed. By that path, the wise who know Brahman, having departed, attain the heavenly world, freed from here.” On that path, there are colors—white, blue, yellow, green, red; that is the path of Brahman. By that path, the knower of Brahman, radiant and virtuous, goes. Those who worship the unmanifest enter into blind darkness; those who delight in the manifest enter into even greater darkness. The worlds called ‘asurya,’ covered with blinding darkness, are entered after death by the ignorant and unwise. Being that, we become that. If one does not know this, there is great loss. Those who know this become immortal; others enter only into suffering. If a person knows the Self as “I am this,” then, desiring what and for whose sake would he cling to the body? For one whose awakened Self is accompanied by understanding, who has entered this dense body, who is the maker and doer of all, his world is that world alone. When one sees this Self as God, as the Lord, straightforward, ruler of what was and what will be, then he does not doubt. In whom the five groups of five and space are established—knowing that Self, one becomes immortal Brahman. From whom the year revolves with days moving onward—the gods worship him as the light of lights, as life, as the immortal. The breath of breath, the eye of the eye, the ear of the ear, the food of food, the mind of the mind—those who know this have realized the ancient, primeval Brahman. It is to be attained by the mind alone. Here, there is no diversity at all. He goes from death to death who sees any kind of diversity here. It is to be perceived by the mind alone; this is immeasurable, unchanging. Pure, supreme, greater than space, unborn, great, unchanging—knowing him alone, the wise Brahmin should cultivate understanding, not dwelling on many words, for that only wearies the voice. This is the Self, the one who is in the space within the heart, ruler of all, lord of all, master of all, who governs all that exists. By good deeds, he becomes greater; by evil deeds, he becomes lesser. He is the lord of beings, the lord of the world, protector of the world, the bridge that keeps these worlds apart. This is what people seek to know through recitation of the Veda, through celibacy, austerity, faith, and offerings that are not destroyed. Not knowing this, one becomes a sage; those who desire this world alone renounce and seek it. Thus, the ancient knowers of Brahman, having understood this, did not desire offspring, saying, “What shall we do with offspring, we whose Self has become this world?” Therefore, renouncing the desire for sons, wealth, and worlds, they lived as mendicants. The desire for sons is the same as the desire for wealth, and the desire for wealth is the same as the desire for worlds—both are indeed just desires. This is that Self—“not this, not this”—ungraspable, for it cannot be grasped; undecaying, for it does not decay; unattached, for it does not attach or suffer. Whether one thinks, “I have done evil,” or “I have done good,” he transcends both; he is immortal, beyond good and evil. Neither good nor evil deeds affect him. Such is the teaching of the Self, the highest reality, the world of Brahman, the supreme bliss, and immortality.