As the sacred fire blazes brightly, its flame flickering and alive, the wise know that this is the auspicious moment to offer oblations, pouring them between the portions of clarified butter without delay. But mere ritual is not enough. If one’s Agnihotra is performed without the rites of the new moon and full moon, without the seasonal sacrifices, without the first-fruits, and if hospitality is neglected, if the offering is not made to Vaiśvadeva or is done improperly, then for such a person, seven worlds are lost. The fire reveals its secret forms—seven tongues of flame: Kālī, Karālī, Manojavā, Sulohitā, Sudhūmravarṇā, Sphuliṅginī, and Viśvarucī, the flickering goddess. Whoever offers with devotion into these shining flames at the right time is guided by the rays of the sun to the realm where the Lord of the gods dwells alone. The radiant oblations themselves seem to call, “Come, come!” and the sun’s rays carry the sacrificer onward, praising him with sweet words: “This is your virtuous world, well-earned, O sacrificer.” Yet, these sacrifices are but fragile rafts, mere aids described as eighteen kinds of lesser actions. Those who cling to these as the highest good, unaware of anything beyond, are deluded and return again and again to old age and death. Dwelling in ignorance, thinking themselves wise and learned, they wander about, like the blind led by the blind, battered by the world. Immersed in rituals, these children believe themselves accomplished, but what they do not understand because of passion, by that they are afflicted; their worlds perish, and they fall. Those who regard sacrifice and charity as supreme, knowing nothing higher, enjoy the fruits of their actions in the heights of heaven, but after their merit is spent, they return to this world or a lesser one. But there are others—peaceful, learned, living by alms in the forest, practicing austerity and faith. Through the sun’s path, purified, they reach the immortal, imperishable Self. A discerning Brahmin, having examined the worlds gained by action, becomes disillusioned, realizing that nothing uncreated can be attained by action alone. To know the truth, he must approach a teacher, carrying fuel in hand, one who is learned and established in Brahman. To such a sincere student, whose mind is tranquil and disciplined, the wise teacher reveals the true knowledge of Brahman, by which the imperishable Person is known. This is the truth: Just as from a blazing fire thousands of sparks arise, all similar in form, so, from the imperishable, all beings emerge and into it they return. The divine, formless Person, unborn, without breath or mind, pure, beyond even the imperishable, is both within and without. From Him arise the vital force, mind, all the senses, and the elements—space, air, light, water, and earth, which uphold the universe. He is the cosmic Person: fire is His head, the sun and moon His eyes, the directions His ears, speech and the Vedas His mouth; air is His life, the universe His heart, and earth His feet—He is the inner Self of all beings. From Him comes fire, whose fuel is the sun; from the moon, rain; from rain, plants; from plants, the seed that brings forth all creatures. From Him arise the Vedas, all sacrifices, rituals, offerings, the year, the sacrificer, and the worlds where the moon is purified and the sun shines. From Him are born the gods in manifold forms, the Sādhyas, humans, animals, birds, the vital and outgoing breaths, rice and barley, austerity, faith, truth, celibacy, and the law. Seven vital forces arise from Him, seven flames, seven offerings, and seven worlds in which the life-forces dwell, hidden deep within. From Him flow all oceans and mountains; from Him pour all rivers; from Him come all plants and their essences, by whom the Self abides among beings. This Person alone is the entire universe—action, austerity, Brahman, the supreme nectar. Whoever knows this, hidden in the cave of the heart, shatters the knot of ignorance. Manifest, present, dwelling in the cave of the heart, is the great abode. It moves, breathes, blinks—this is both existence and non-existence, the most excellent, supreme knowledge among beings. That which is radiant, subtler than the subtlest, in which all worlds and their inhabitants are contained—that is the imperishable Brahman: the vital force, speech, mind, truth, immortality. That is to be known. Take the Upanishad as the great bow, place the sharp arrow of meditation upon it, draw it with a mind absorbed in That, and know the imperishable as the target. Om is the bow, the Self the arrow, Brahman the target—pierce it with unwavering attention and become one with it, as an arrow becomes one with its mark. Know that Self in whom heaven, earth, and the space between are woven, along with mind and all the life-forces; know only that Self, and set aside all other words, for this alone is the bridge to immortality. Just as the spokes of a wheel are held together in the hub, so are all the channels united in that One; He moves within, manifesting in many ways. Meditate on the Self as Om—may you prosper and cross beyond darkness. He who knows all, whose glory is manifest on earth, is established in the luminous city of Brahman, in the supreme sky. Made of mind, leader of the life-forces, established in food, with the heart as His abode—by knowing Him, the wise behold the blissful, immortal form that shines forth. When that Supreme, both higher and lower, is seen, the knot of the heart is untied, all doubts are cut asunder, and actions come to an end. Within the highest golden sheath is Brahman, pure, without stain, indivisible—the radiant Light of lights, beheld by the knowers of the Self. There the sun does not shine, nor the moon and stars, nor lightning, nor fire. Shining, He alone illumines all; by His light, all this shines. Brahman is this immortal before, behind, to the right and left, above and below—Brahman alone pervades; this whole universe is truly the supreme Brahman. There are two birds, united, close companions, perched on the same tree. One eats the sweet fruit, while the other simply looks on. On this same tree, the individual soul, sunk in ignorance, grieves and is bewildered. But when he sees the other, the Lord, and His greatness, he becomes free from sorrow. When the seer beholds the golden-colored Creator, the Lord, the source of Brahman, he shakes off virtue and vice, becomes stainless, and attains supreme equality. He is the vital force shining in all beings. Knowing this, the wise do not argue; they delight and rejoice in the Self, active yet serene—such are the highest among knowers of Brahman. This Self is attained by truth, by austerity, by right knowledge, and by constant chastity. Within the body, pure and full of light, the ascetics whose faults are exhausted behold Him. Truth alone prevails, not falsehood. By truth is the path laid out, the way of the gods, which the sages, whose desires are fulfilled, travel to where the supreme treasure of truth is found. That is vast, divine, inconceivable in form, subtler than the subtlest, shining forth. It is farther than the far, yet here, very near; it is seen here, hidden in the cave of the heart.