Just as the radiance of a lamp fills the darkness when it is lit, so too, from the pure awareness within, one’s own discernment inevitably arises. Whether this wisdom comes from hearing the words of the wise or from one’s own contemplation, it is through steady inquiry that impressions are gradually established in the intellect. At first, there emerges an eloquence in speech—pure, refined, and elevated—adorning gatherings like a string of pearls, bringing beauty and clarity to the assembly. Following this, a supreme dispassion takes root, noble and powerful, such that even mighty kings, fierce as serpents, are drawn into friendship by its greatness. The one who truly knows both past and future becomes wise in all matters, like a person carrying a lamp through the night, able to see all things clearly. The faults of greed and delusion begin to fade away, just as the mists of autumn recede from the world as the season advances. The intellect depends entirely on the steadfast practice of discernment; no action bears fruit unless supported by repeated, sincere discrimination. When discernment is cultivated, the mind attains a clarity like that of a vast autumn lake, and a tranquility as profound as the still ocean whose waves have subsided. As discernment blazes forth, all inner darkness is dispelled—like a thunderbolt shattering a mass of clouds—illuminating the distinctions among things. Misery, poverty, and suffering are seen for what they are: mere appearances, unable to wound the core, just as blunted arrows cannot pierce the vital parts. Even the most terrifying fears of worldly existence cannot shake the heart of the wise; they remain unmoved, like a great stone unperturbed by the fluttering of birds. All doubts—questions about birth, action, fate, and human effort—are dispelled, just as darkness vanishes with the coming of day. With the arising of wisdom, attachment in every form ceases, just as the night comes to an end with dawn’s arrival. Depth like the ocean, steadfastness like Mount Meru, and a cool, soothing inner radiance like the moon—all these qualities blossom within the sincere inquirer. Gradually, the state of living liberation matures within him, and, as it enters the yogi whose doubts are fully pacified, it becomes firmly established. His intellect becomes cool to all objects, pure, and radiant with supreme illumination, attaining the highest light, like the full brilliance of the entire moon. In the sky of the heart, where the sun of discernment shines with the light of tranquility, the seeds of misfortune do not take root. Desires subside, becoming pure, gentle, humble, and unmoving; they vanish like clusters of autumn clouds dissolving in the clear sky. If a person abandons coarse behavior, even by a stern act, it is like the coming of day dispersing the miserable faces of ghouls—darkness fleeing before the light. Afflictions cannot assail a mind firmly rooted in virtue and yoked to courage, just as winds cannot strip a wondrous creeper from its support. Such a being does not fall into the abyss of attachment to sense objects; for who, knowing the path, would ever chase after a chasm? The wise delight in actions that are in harmony with the conduct of true scriptures and virtuous people, just as a noble lady enjoys the inner chambers as they come. With a mind free from fabrication, the wise one perceives, within each of the countless atoms of the multitudes of worlds, the various creations. One whose inner faculty is purified by understanding the means to liberation is neither distressed nor elated by the flood of enjoyments. He observes, in every atom, the rise and fall of worlds, like waves arising and subsiding in water. He neither hates actions that arise nor desires those that cease; though awake, he remains like a tree, indifferent to what must be done. The ordinary person, too, acts according to circumstances as they arise, remaining undefeated in heart whether he attains what he desires or not. Having understood this entire scripture—whether by reading or examining it—one must directly experience its truth; it is not merely something to be spoken, like a boon or a curse. This scripture is truly easy to understand, adorned with poetic beauty, rich in flavor, full of examples, and pleasingly embellished. One who knows the meaning of the words and their sense understands this directly; but whoever does not should hear it from a learned teacher. Once this is heard, understood, and realized, then austerity, meditation, recitation, and the like are no longer necessary for attaining liberation here. Through repeated study and contemplation of this profound scripture, knowledge arises in a person, following the purification of the mind. The strong notion “I am the world”—the ghost of perceiver and perceived—subsides effortlessly, just as a ghost vanishes at sunrise. The delusion “I am the world” may remain, but it is pacified, like a dream that, once recognized as such, no longer delights. Just as joy and sorrow from the city of imagination do not trouble a person, so too, when the illusion of the world is understood within, it does not disturb. As a painted snake, once recognized as mere art, does not cause fear of real snakes, so too, when the visible world is understood, it no longer brings pleasure or pain. By understanding, the snake-nature of the painting disappears; in the same way, though the world remains, it is pacified through knowledge. There may be some slight disturbance, as when the tender leaves of a flower are touched, but upon attaining the highest reality, there is no disturbance at all. When a flower petal is pressed, its parts move; but here, awareness is only of pure intelligence, not of bodily limbs or parts. Seated comfortably, eating as appropriate, such a one does not remain among enjoyments that are contrary to good conduct. Thus, the journey of discernment leads to the supreme peace and freedom of the wise.