How could inertness, which arises from non-origination, ever become the cause of inert objects like earth and the other elements? It would be as if sunlight itself were the cause of a shadow—an impossibility, for the very nature of light is to dispel darkness, not create it. In the absence of a true cause, no effect has ever been declared to exist; only the cause truly is, and it remains established in its own essence. All that appears as unborn is, in truth, nothing but the radiance of consciousness. Just as the world one sees in a dream is nothing but the shining forth of consciousness within, so too is this waking world. The shining of consciousness inside is like the illusion of a dream-world; at the very beginning of creation, within Brahman, the shining of the world is spread out in that same way—an illusory play upon the infinite. Whatever is seen here is truly established in the Self; the world neither sets nor rises at any time. Just as liquidity is the very nature of water, motion belongs to wind, and radiance to light, so too is Brahman the very essence of the three worlds. The world appears within, like a city seen in a dream or a deity arising in the awareness of a dreamer. In reality, it is only one’s own Self shining forth in the Supreme Self. Yet, if this is so, how, O Brahman, can the firm conviction of the world’s reality be explained? This visible world has arisen like an unreal experience in a dream. When there is something seen, there is a seer; when there is a seer, there is something to be seen. Bondage arises from the existence of both, but liberation comes when either one ceases. As long as the object is not utterly impossible and the mind does not let go of it, the state of non-seership in the seer cannot arise, nor can liberation be attained. If the object first arises and later perishes, then, due to the memory of the object, bondage—being of the nature of useless recollection—does not cease. Wherever the mind is established, like its own reflection in a mirror, a reflection arises; this is truly the memory of creation. In the very beginning, the perceived world does not arise at all. If it does not exist by itself, then, with the absence of the illusion of seer and seen, liberation is attained. Therefore, O best among knowers of the Self, dispel for me, through reasoning, the notion that liberation is impossible, and speak to me of the utter impossibility of the perceived world. Just as the world, consisting of creation, appears though it is unreal, so too, O Rama, listen as I explain this at length. Until this is fully described by words of decisive teaching, the dust in your heart will not settle, just as silt does not settle in a lake. When you realize the absolute nonexistence of this illusion of world-creation, you will act in the world established in the one-pointedness of meditation. The appearances of existence and nonexistence, grasping and letting go, gross and subtle, moving and unmoving, will strike at you, but will not pierce you—just as arrows cannot pierce a great mountain. There is, indeed, only this one Self; there is no second, not even as a notion. Let me explain to you, O Raghava, how this world appears here. Therefore, O dear one, that great Self alone manifests all these things. Being the abode of the light of perception, thought, and mind, it itself arises and subsides in all forms. From that supreme, tranquil, and most pure state, listen with your highest understanding to how this universe has arisen. Just as deep sleep appears like a dream, so too does only Brahman shine forth as creation; all is one and peaceful—now hear the sequence in which this unfolds. Of that infinite, self-luminous essence, that jewel of pure consciousness, there is, by its very nature, a mere existence that is continuous. In that Self, something seems to become an object of awareness, though no object is actually grasped; this is a sign of the subtle stir of consciousness, an indication of the first movement of cognition. Through imagined formations of future objects, it takes on a faint conceptual form—subtler than space, pure, and the revealer of all that will be. From that, the supreme existence, transcending being, turns toward consciousness; by this turning, it becomes fit for awareness, becoming slightly accessible. Then, through dense awareness, it receives the name of the future individual soul and other such distinctions; this is the Self’s own conception, as it descends from the supreme state. When it is poised only in the notion of its own singular being, ready for manifestation, then, by the very nature of reality, these subtle bodies abide in it. Immediately after this, the emptiness of space arises; it is the seed of qualities such as sound and will give rise to future objects of expression. Then, the sense of ‘I’ emerges, together with the existence of time; these are the primary seeds for sustaining the world and its future expressions. The supreme power of that, consisting only of self-awareness, manifests as this network, which is unreal in nature but appears as if real, shining forth. Thus, that consciousness, of this kind, is the seed of the tree of intention; and there, the essence of ego acts as the wind by its vibration. Consciousness, endowed with ego, through the contemplation of the subtle element of sound in space, gradually becomes dense by itself and sufficiently forms the subtle element of space. That which is destined to become objects is the seed of the tree of the multitude of sounds; it transforms through the abundance of words, sentences, measures, and the groups of the Vedas. From that, the entire glory of the world, in the form of sound, will arise; it spreads through the transformation of the multitude of objects created by the multitude of sounds. That consciousness, together with its retinue, is referred to as ‘jīva’; through the network of future objects of sound, it is the seed of the tree of the multitude of elements. The fourteenfold class of beings, enveloped in space, will then spread forth as the multitude of mechanisms within the womb of the world. Consciousness, which has not yet attained the essence of name and form, shines forth as living existence; that very consciousness, through the notion of touch, becomes the subtle element of touch in an instant. The expansion of the wind principle is the seed of the tree whose sole branch is touch; from this, the pulse of all beings’ activities will spread forth. Wherever consciousness, by its play, manifests as illumination through experience, that becomes the subtle element of fire, which gives rise to the meaning of names yet to be.