The great sage Gautama once approached a learned teacher, seeking the highest knowledge. The teacher, recognizing Gautama’s sincerity but also his initial silence, said, “Let him remain here for a long time.” Then he addressed Gautama: “Just as you did not answer, Gautama, so I will not answer right away. Know this: before you, this wisdom did not come to the Brahmins; therefore, throughout all the worlds, the Kshatriyas have held the rule.” With these words, he began to instruct him. He revealed to Gautama a profound vision of the universe as a grand sacrificial fire. “That world yonder, Gautama, is indeed fire. Its fuel is the sun, its rays are the smoke, the day is its flame, the moon its coals, and the stars its sparks. Into this cosmic fire, the gods offer faith, and from that offering arises King Soma.” He continued: “The rain-cloud, Gautama, is also fire. Its fuel is the wind, the cloud is the smoke, lightning is the flame, thunder the coals, and the showers are the sparks. Into this fire, the gods offer King Soma, and from that offering, rain is produced.” Further, he said, “The earth, Gautama, too is fire. Its fuel is the year, space is the smoke, night is the flame, the directions are the coals, and the intermediate directions are the sparks. Into this fire, the gods offer rain, and from that oblation, food arises.” Turning to the human being, he explained, “Man, Gautama, is a fire as well. Speech is his fuel, breath is the smoke, tongue is the flame, eyes are the coals, and ears are the sparks. Into this fire, the gods offer food, and from that oblation, semen arises.” He then spoke of woman: “Woman, Gautama, is a fire. Her womb is the fuel, what is spoken to her is the smoke, the vulva is the flame, her actions within are the coals, and pleasure is the sparks. Into this fire, the gods offer semen, and from that oblation, the embryo is produced.” Thus, at the fifth offering, speech becomes a human being. The embryo, wrapped in its membrane, after lying for ten or nine months or as long as it must, is born. Having been born, he lives his allotted span. When he dies, destined, the fires carry him away from here to where he originated. Those who know this and who, in the forest, practice faith and austerity, ascend by the path of flame: from flame to day, from day to the bright fortnight, from the bright fortnight to the months traversed northward, then to the year, to the sun, to the moon, to lightning. There, a non-human being leads them to Brahman. This is the path of the gods. But those who, in the village, practice sacrifice, charity, and similar works, go by the path of smoke: from smoke to night, from night to the dark fortnight, from the dark fortnight to the months traversed southward; they do not reach the year. Instead, they go to the world of the ancestors, then to space, then to the moon—King Soma, the food of the gods, whom the gods consume. After their merit is exhausted, they return by the same path: from space to air, becoming air, then smoke, then cloud, then rain. Descending as rain, they become rice, barley, herbs, trees, sesame, and beans. Thus, it is difficult to escape this cycle; whoever eats food, whoever pours semen, becomes that again. Those who act nobly here are likely to attain a noble birth—be it Brahmin, Kshatriya, or Vaishya; those who act basely are likely to attain a base birth—be it dog, pig, or outcaste. For these, there is no path onward; these small creatures, repeatedly returning, are born and die—this is the third place. Therefore, that world is never filled, and one should avoid it. A verse declares: A thief of gold, a drinker of liquor, one who sleeps with the teacher’s wife, a Brahmin-slayer—these four fall, and the fifth is one who associates with them. Yet, whoever knows these five fires thus, even if they associate with such people, remains unstained by sin; pure and purified, they reach the world of merit—whoever knows thus, whoever knows thus. In another gathering, five great householders and hearers—Prācīnaśāla Aupamanyava, Satyayajña Pauluṣa, Indradyumna Bhāllaveya, Jana Śārkarākṣya, and Buḍila Āśvatarāśvi—assembled and discussed among themselves: “Who indeed is the Self? What is Brahman?” They decided, “The revered Uddalaka, son of Aruna, is here; he has approached the Vaiśvānara Self. Let us go to him.” So they went. Uddalaka, foreseeing their questions and doubting whether he could answer all, thought, “I will have someone else instruct them.” He told them, “Revered ones, King Aśvapati of the Kekayas has approached the Vaiśvānara Self. Let us go to him.” So they all went to Aśvapati. When they arrived, King Aśvapati welcomed them with separate dwellings. In the morning, as he was about to depart, he declared, “In my kingdom, there is no thief, no miser, no drunkard, no one who neglects the sacred fire, no ignorant person, no adulterer or adulteress—how could there be one who sacrifices improperly? As long as I give gifts to every officiating priest, so long will I give to you. Please stay, revered ones.” They replied, “For the very purpose for which a man lives, let him speak in the same way. Since you have approached the Vaiśvānara Self, tell us about him alone.” He answered, “At dawn, I will reply.” So, carrying sacrificial fuel, they approached him in the forenoon, and without further introductions, he addressed them. Turning to Aupamanyava, he asked, “Whom do you meditate upon as your Self?” Aupamanyava replied, “Heaven itself, revered king.” The king said, “This is the radiant Self, the Vaiśvānara, whom you meditate upon as your Self. Therefore, in your family, a radiant son is born. One who meditates thus eats food and sees what is dear, becomes dear, and his family shines with the radiance of Brahman. The head is this aspect of the Self. Had you not come to me, your head would have fallen.” He then asked Satyayajña, “Whom do you meditate upon as your Self?” Satyayajña replied, “The sun, revered king.” The king said, “This is the all-formed Self, the Vaiśvānara, whom you meditate upon as your Self. Therefore, in your family, many with various forms are seen. One who meditates thus rides in a chariot drawn by mares, wears a golden necklace, eats food, and sees what is dear, becomes dear, and his family shines with the radiance of Brahman. The eyes are this aspect of the Self. Had you not come to me, you would have become blind.” Next, he asked Indradyumna, “Whom do you meditate upon as your Self?” Indradyumna replied, “The wind, revered king.” The king said, “This is the Self with separate paths, the Vaiśvānara, whom you meditate upon as your Self. Therefore, separate strengths come to you, and separate lines of chariots follow you. One who meditates thus eats food and sees what is dear, becomes dear, and his family shines with the radiance of Brahman. The breath is this aspect of the Self. Had you not come to me, your breath would have departed.” To Jana Śārkarākṣya, he asked, “Whom do you meditate upon as your Self?” Jana replied, “Space itself, revered king.” The king said, “This is the abundant Self, the Vaiśvānara, whom you meditate upon as your Self. Therefore, you are abundant in progeny and wealth. One who meditates thus eats food and sees what is dear, becomes dear, and his family shines with the radiance of Brahman. The cavity is this aspect of the Self. Had you not come to me, your cavity would have been destroyed.” Finally, to Buḍila, he asked, “Whom do you meditate upon as your Self?” Buḍila replied, “Water itself, revered king.” The king said, “This is the wealthy Self, the Vaiśvānara, whom you meditate upon as your Self. Therefore, you are wealthy and prosperous. One who meditates thus eats food and sees what is dear, becomes dear, and his family shines with the radiance of Brahman. The bladder is this aspect of the Self. Had you not come to me, your bladder would have burst.” Thus did King Aśvapati instruct the seekers, revealing the many facets of the Vaiśvānara Self, and the deep unity of the individual and the cosmos, in the sacred fire of existence.