In the subtle realm of existence, consciousness reveals itself in countless forms. Whatever shape it assumes, it appears as another self—ever unrestrained, never fixed, for nothing here is permanent. Even the idea of ‘nothing at all’ cannot be applied to the very nature of consciousness; if it were to abandon all forms, it could not remain, for consciousness is inseparable from its own expressions. At the dawn of creation, consciousness itself, within its own being, took on myriad forms. Even now, it manifests as cold, fire, and all the elements, simply by its own nature. Thus, for anyone who exists, it is impossible to abandon one’s own being; as long as consciousness endures, the cosmic order remains unbroken. Whatever is formed—be it space-like or earth-like, from the beginning of creation until this very moment—cannot depart from its own nature. Consciousness, when manifested in any way, remains as it is unless an opposing force arises; by the habit of experience, it persists unchanged. At the beginning of the world, what is not produced but is nevertheless experienced as ‘this’ is the formation of consciousness-space, much like the pleasure a woman feels in a dream. It is established that appearances are unreal, though they seem real; the awareness of its own nature is thus, and so are the experiences of all beings. The stream of consciousness that was established at creation is still observed to endure, even when stirred by other influences. Awareness that has taken on the nature of space becomes the consciousness of the sky; awareness that assumes the form of time becomes the consciousness of ether as time. Awareness shaped like water becomes the consciousness of water established in the ether; in dreams, a person perceives water within himself. Consciousness shines forth with its own awareness as wind, remaining unchanged; its cleverness imagines what is unreal. The states of being space, wind, earth, water, and fire are all unreal; consciousness knows this inwardly, as in dreams, imaginations, and meditations. Now, listen to what is taught for the cessation of all actions, concerning the sequence of experiencing the results of karma after death, which is beneficial. The fixed order at the beginning of creation may be onefold, twofold, threefold, or fourfold; now hear about the order regarding the vitality of beings in nourishment and other aspects. The cause of the increase or decrease of human lifespan is the purity or impurity of place, time, action, substance, and one’s own deeds. When one’s prescribed duty declines, the lifespan of people diminishes; when it increases, lifespan grows; and when it is steady, lifespan remains steady. A child meets death through actions that cause childhood death; a youth through actions that bring youthful death; an elder through actions that bring death in old age. Whoever performs their own duty as prescribed by scripture becomes a recipient of prosperity and lifespan according to those teachings. Thus, according to one’s actions, a living being reaches the final state from here—becoming speechless, vision fading, and experiencing pain at the vital points. O moon-faced one, let me briefly speak about death: what makes death pleasant, what makes it painful, and what happens after dying? There are three types of people at the end of the body who wish to die: the ignorant, the practitioner of concentration, and the person endowed with discernment. The practitioner of concentration and the one possessing discernment, having practiced, depart happily, leaving the body behind. One who has not attained the practice of concentration does not gain liberation; the ignorant, at the time of their own death, experiences suffering—helpless and without hope. When one cultivates attachment to sense objects, overwhelmed by latent impressions, he falls into deep dejection, like a lotus withered away. A mind unrefined by scripture, devoted to the company of the wicked, experiences inner burning at death, as if cast into fire. When hoarseness of voice and distortion caused by impaired vision arise, this destructive condition brings about a depressed mind. His appearance becomes utterly dark, as if day has turned into night; his form wanders aimlessly, surrounded by dense, cloud-like gloom. Afflicted by pain at his vital points, his vision reels among trees; earth seems to become sky, and sky appears as earth. He spins like the turning wheel of a well, tossed as if in the ocean, drawn as if into the sky, his mind inclined toward the sleep of dense clouds. He seems to have fallen into a dark pit, wedged between rocks; his tongue becomes dull, as if self-paralyzed, and his mind feels torn apart. He appears to be falling from the path of the sky, caught in a whirlpool, riding a swiftly moving chariot, headed toward the mouth of the Himalayas. He spins the world as if making it luminous, as if touching the midst of fire; he is whirled about by a force, standing like a wind-driven machine. He is tossed about like an illusion, pulled as if by a rope, revolving as if in a whirlpool, set as if in a mechanical device of blades. He is driven like a blade of grass by the great wind of the ocean, carried far by a flood of water, falling as if into a submarine fire. He is as if falling in the endless sky, in a deep abyss, in the swirl of a wheel; experiencing the reversal of mountain and earth, he remains. He is as if falling endlessly, or leaping up on all sides; startled by the sound of roaring, with all his senses fully active. Gradually, all his perceptions of meaning grow dark, just as the directions lose brightness when the sun sets. His memory, grown thin, does not know before or after, just as at the end of twilight in the west, sight is lost in the eight directions. Bewildered, he loses the power of mental imagination; through lack of discernment, he sinks into great delusion. Thus, the journey of consciousness, its forms and experiences, and the passage through death are all shaped by the nature of awareness and the results of one’s actions.