Once, reflecting on the mysterious play of life and destiny, the goddess spoke: “This is the body, this is the wealth, these are the actions performed in the past. In this way, we two were joined in marriage, and so became one in name and purpose.” The people associated with them, too, became real and tangible in that very place, just as the vivid reality of a dream is directly experienced. In this wondrous drama, I myself was worshipped in a playful spirit. The thought arose: “May I not be a widow,” and so, with deep intent, I too accepted him as my chosen husband. It was as if, in seeking this union, the maiden had previously died, yet here I am—the conscious principle among all your conscious parts. The family goddess must always be worshipped, and so I performed this rite. Then, the vital force, taking the form of the breath of life, departed from the body. Guided by the mind, this breath reached the tip of the mouth and left the body behind. After the faintness of death had passed, in that very house, the maiden awakened once more; her consciousness, shaped by her reflections, became visible to the living soul. She arose accomplished, her eyes gentle as a deer’s, her face radiant as the full moon, proud and beloved, longing for the company of her beloved. With memories of the past shining within her, her face alight with eagerness, her inner nature steady, she regained her original splendor, blossoming like a lotus in the sun. Now, having obtained her boon, with that very body, she set out to find the king, seeking reunion with her husband. She traveled by the path of the sky, ascending to the heavenly realms. With joy in her heart, and the great makara banner raised high, she soared gracefully like a bird through the sky. There, a message arrived for her welfare, as if emerging from the great mirror of her own resolve. A voice greeted her: “I am your daughter, friend Jnapti; welcome, beautiful one. I have waited here on the path of the sky, awaiting only you.” The goddess with water-like eyes pleaded, “Lead me to my husband, for the sight of the great is never fruitless.” “Let us go there,” said the maiden, intent on showing her the way, and she stood before her in the sky. Following her guide, she reached a hollow in the atmosphere, clear and shining as a flawless hand or a well-drawn line. Crossing the path of clouds, rising through the wind’s currents, she soared beyond the sun’s course and entered the realm of the stars. Swiftly she passed through the worlds of wind, Indra, the gods, and the siddhas, until she reached the outer shell of the universe presided over by Brahma, Vishnu, and Shiva. Just as the cold inside a pot can be felt outside its wall, so, by the power of her resolve, she emerged outside the universes themselves. Within, she experienced a bewilderment arising solely from bodies created by her own mind and the radiance of her intention. Crossing the nine coverings—water and others—beyond the universe, she entered the vast expanse of the great sky of consciousness. With astonishing speed, she moved through an immeasurable expanse, surpassing even Garuda in every direction, and traveling farther than could be accomplished in hundreds of millions of aeons. There, countless millions of cosmic eggs existed in abundance, each unseen by the others, like fruits in a vast forest. Entering one of these, she found herself in a great city, surrounded by expansive boundaries. She pierced through and entered within, just as a worm burrows into the heart of a fruit. Moving beyond the radiant realms of Brahma, Indra, Vishnu, and others, she arrived at the splendid earth-circle below the path of the stars. Arriving there, she entered its city and pavilion, and approached the body of Pushpagupta, her husband, who lay lifeless. Yet, she did not see the maiden Maya there; the beautiful-faced girl had vanished elsewhere. Gazing at her husband’s face, now stilled in death, she understood with certainty, through her own insight, the true nature of the situation: “This is my husband, slain in battle by Sindhu. Having attained these worlds of heroes, he now rests for a moment in comfort. By the goddess’s grace, I have reached him in this form; blessed am I, for there is none like me.” With this thought, she took a beautiful fan in her hand and began to fan him, as the sky fans the moon with its circle of clouds. The servants, the maidens, and the awakened king would soon speak, asking: “Who are you? By what means and with what intention have you come?” Yet, through the unity of consciousness-space and the power shared by the goddess and herself, the king, she, and the servants would all come to know one another. Great manifestations of consciousness, by the firm resolve of supreme order, would recognize each other, reflected as if in a mirror. Each would declare: “This is my natural wife, this is my natural companion, this is my natural queen, and this servant is naturally mine.” Only you, I, and she will know the truth of what has happened, uninterrupted and exactly as it occurred; we alone will understand this great wonder, and no one else at all. But a question arises: Why did she not come to her husband with this very body, even when the wedding had been arranged? Lila, you who speak so gracefully, listen: Those whose minds are not awakened, even if they reach the worlds of the siddhas through merit, cannot arrive there with their own bodies, just as a shadow cannot reach the sunlight. In the primal creation, destiny is established by the awakened ones, just as truth can never merge with falsehood in any way. As long as a child clings to the fantasy of a goblin, how can true experience arise for one who is free from such thoughts? As long as the fever of indiscrimination persists, how can the cooling moon of discernment possibly arise? One who is firmly convinced, “I am this body made of earth and elements; I have no higher movement in space,” cannot hold any other conviction. Thus, the mystery of consciousness, destiny, and awakening unfolds, known only to those who truly see.