In the assembly of seekers, the revered teacher spoke of that which lies beyond words—a reality pure, immaculate, void, and utterly peaceful. This is the breath, prāṇa, the very life-force, without master or limit, undecaying and eternal, uncreated and self-sufficient, ever abiding in its own majesty. By this breath, the body becomes sentient, and it is this breath that impels all movement and life within. The disciples, eager to understand, asked, “Lord, how does this pure, desireless breath establish and drive the sentience of the body?” The teacher replied, “This breath is subtle, ungraspable, and invisible. It is called the Person, the Puruṣa. With intention, it moves within, and by a part of itself—just as in deep sleep—it awakens with resolve. That part, pure consciousness in each being, the knower of the field, marked by resolve, determination, and ego, is Prajāpati, the all-seeing lord. By this consciousness, the body becomes sentient and is impelled into action.” Again, the seekers asked, “How does such a being function through a part of itself?” The teacher then revealed, “In the beginning, Prajāpati alone existed, but he was not content. He contemplated himself and created many beings. Yet, though awakened from himself, these beings were lifeless, standing like pillars, without breath. Seeing this, Prajāpati was still not content. He thought, ‘To awaken them, I will enter within.’ So, taking the form of wind, he entered them—not alone, but dividing himself fivefold: as prāṇa, apāna, samāna, udāna, and vyāna. Prāṇa rises upward, apāna moves downward, samāna holds the gross food in apāna and distributes the undesirable equally in each limb, udāna expels what is eaten and drunk, and vyāna pervades all the veins. When prāṇa and apāna are in a subtle, internal state, warmth arises between them, like the warmth of a month. This person within, the fire Vaiśvānara, is the one by whom food is cooked and digested; the sound of this fire is what one hears when the ears are closed, and when life departs, this sound is no longer heard. Thus, having divided himself fivefold, Prajāpati dwells in the cave of the heart, made of mind, with the body as breath, of many forms, the Self of true resolve. Dwelling within, when he finds no purpose, he thinks of other purposes, breaks through his own walls, and rises up. By five rays—the organs of knowledge—he enjoys the objects of the world. The organs of action are his horses, the body is his chariot, and the mind is his charioteer. Driven by the goad of nature, the body, like a wheel, revolves. But when the body dies, it is no longer sentient or impelled. This, indeed, is the Self—seemingly led by the results of good and bad actions, moving through each body. Yet, because it is unmanifest, subtle, invisible, and unattached, it is not truly established as the doer, though it appears so. In truth, it is pure, unmoving, untouched, undisturbed, desireless, the witness, enjoying its own conduct, veiled by the garment of qualities, and thus remains hidden. At this, the seekers asked, “Since you reveal the greatness of this Self, who then is the one overcome by the fruits of actions, who attains good and bad births, who, subdued by dualities, wanders upward and downward?” The teacher replied, “There is another, the elemental self, who, overcome by the fruits of actions, attains various births and, subdued by dualities, wanders. The five subtle elements are called ‘elements,’ as are the five great elements; their aggregate is the body, and this is the elemental self. Within it is a self, like a drop in a lotus, overcome by the qualities of nature. When deluded, it does not see the Lord, the creator, established in itself. Satisfied by the multitude of qualities, impure, unstable, restless, greedy, desirous, and distracted, it falls into egotism, thinking, ‘I am this, this is mine,’ and binds itself as a bird in a net, wandering without true result. Elsewhere it is said: this elemental self is the doer, acting through the instruments, with the inner person as the agent. Just as a lump of iron, when struck, becomes manifold, so the elemental self, struck by qualities, becomes manifold, transforming into countless forms among eighty-four lakh species. These qualities, impelled by the person, revolve like a wheel around its hub. Yet, as the fire in iron is not affected, so the person is not overcome; only the elemental self is affected by association. This body arises from sexual union, devoid of consciousness, destined for suffering, exiting through the urinary passage, covered with bones, smeared with flesh, bound with skin, and filled with impurities—like a sack stuffed full. Delusion, fear, despair, sleep, lethargy, wounds, old age, sorrow, hunger, thirst, misery, anger, atheism, ignorance, envy, cruelty, stupidity, shamelessness, deceit, arrogance, inequality—these are associated with darkness. Thirst, affection, passion, greed, violence, pleasure, attachment to views, jealousy, desire, instability, longing, pursuit of wealth, attachment to friends, dependence on possessions, hatred for unpleasant objects, and attachment to pleasant ones—these are associated with passion. Filled and overcome by these, the elemental self takes on manifold forms. Then, those who had mastered the upward-flowing seed, greatly astonished, approached and said, “Revered one, you are our refuge; teach us. Who is the guest of the elemental self, by whom, leaving this, one attains union with another?” The teacher replied, “Like waves in great rivers, the return of past actions is inevitable, as is the arrival of death, which is hard to resist. Bound by the cords of good and evil fruits, like a beast in bondage, one is surrounded by many fears in the realm of Yama. Intoxicated by delusion, seized by sin, bitten by the great serpent of ignorance, blinded by passion, one is lost in darkness, illusion, and dreams, delighting in false beauty like an actor in costume. Thus, sense objects, though appearing meaningful, are in truth meaningless. When the elemental self is attached to them, it forgets the supreme state. The remedy for the elemental self is the attainment of knowledge, the practice of virtue, observance of one’s own order and duty. All else depends on this, like a tree on its trunk and branches; without it, one falls downward. He who does not transgress his own duty, who remains established in his order, is called an ascetic. Without asceticism, there is no self-meditation; purity of action is required. By asceticism, purity is attained; from purity, mind is attained; by mind, the self is attained; and by attainment of the self, one turns back from worldly pursuits. Just as fire without fuel returns to its source, so, by the cessation of activity, the mind returns to its origin. For the mind that has returned to its source, following truth and not deluded by sense objects, actions driven by untruth do not bind. The mind alone is the cycle of birth and death; therefore, one should purify it with effort, for as is the mind, so one becomes—this is the ancient secret. By the clarity of mind, all actions, good and bad, are destroyed, and the serene self, established in the self, enjoys imperishable happiness. When the mind is attached to sense objects, it is bound; but if attached to Brahman, who would not be freed from bondage? The mind is said to be of two kinds: impure, filled with desire and imagination; and pure, devoid of desire. Making the mind free from dissolution and distraction, steady and firm, when it attains the state of no-mind, it reaches the supreme state. The mind should be restrained in the heart until it is destroyed—this is knowledge and liberation; all else is mere elaboration of texts. The happiness gained by the mind, purified through absorption and established in the self, cannot be described by speech; it is grasped only by one’s own inner faculty. Water is not seen in water, nor fire in fire, nor space in space; in the same way, when the mind is merged within, the person is released. The mind alone is the cause of bondage and liberation; attached to sense objects, it binds; free from them, it liberates. Then, Kautsāyana praised: “You are Brahmā, Viṣṇu, Rudra, Prajāpati; you are Agni, Varuṇa, Vāyu, Indra, and the moon. You are Manu, Yama, the earth, and the imperishable; you stand in many forms in the heavens for your own sake and purpose. Lord of the universe, soul and creator of the universe, enjoyer and cosmic illusion, delight in the play of the universe—salutations to you, master! Salutations to you, whose nature is peace, most secret, inconceivable, immeasurable, without beginning or end. In the beginning, all was darkness. Stirred by the transcendent, it became the state of sense objects—rajas. Rajas, when stirred, becomes conflict—tamas. Tamas, when stirred, flows forth as sattva. Sattva, when stirred, flows forth. This portion, pure consciousness, is the knower of the field in each being, marked by intention, determination, and ego—Prajāpati, whose foremost forms are Brahmā, Rudra, and Viṣṇu. The rajas portion is Brahmā, tamas is Rudra, sattva is Viṣṇu. Thus, one manifests as threefold, eightfold, elevenfold, twelvefold, and countless forms; having arisen, he moves among beings, established as the lord of all creatures. This self is both within and without. This self supports itself in two ways: as breath and as the sun. These two are fivefold in name, within and without, day and night; they alternate. The sun is the outer self, breath is the inner self; the outer is inferred by the movement of the inner. Whoever is wise, sinless, master of the senses, pure-minded, devoted, with withdrawn sight—such a one, by the movement of the inner self, infers the outer self. The golden person within the sun, who sees me as golden, is the one who, within the lotus of the heart, abides and eats food. That one, abiding in the lotus of the heart, is Agni established in heaven, solar, called Time, invisible, who eats the food of all beings. The lotus is space, with the four directions and four intermediate directions as its petals. The fire here moves forward; these are breath and the sun, to be worshipped by the sacred syllable and the Sāvitrī utterance. There are two forms of Brahman: the manifest and the unmanifest. The manifest is unreal; the unmanifest is real. That is Brahman, and Brahman is light; that light is the sun, the self, signified by ‘Om.’ He divided himself threefold, as ‘Om’ has three syllables, by which all is woven and interwoven. Therefore, one should meditate on the sun as ‘Om’ and thus unite oneself. Elsewhere it is said: the udgītha is the praṇava; the praṇava is the udgītha. The sun is the udgītha, the leader, name and form, free from sleep, old age, and death, again fivefold, hidden in the cave. With roots above and branches up to Brahman—sky, air, fire, water, earth—all is sustained by one, which is Brahman. The sun is the essence of this syllable; therefore, one should worship with ‘Om.’ Whoever knows this syllable, whatever he desires, that he obtains. It is said: it thunders, its body is ‘Om,’ encompassing all genders; it is fire, wind, sun, Rudra, Viṣṇu, the lord; it is the three sacred fires; it is Ṛg, Yajur, Sāma Vedas; it is the three worlds; it is past, present, future; it is breath, fire, sun; it is food, water, moon; it is intellect, mind, ego; it is breath, apāna, vyāna. Some say, “I give up”—thus, it becomes the offering. Both the supreme and the non-supreme are signified by this syllable. Once, Prajāpati, through austerity, uttered ‘Bhūḥ, Bhuvaḥ, Svar’—his most substantial forms, corresponding to the worlds.