Listen, and I shall recount the subtle journey of consciousness, as revealed in the sacred discourse. When delusion seizes a being, the vital breath does not function as it does in life; and when the breath fails to move as it should, delusion fully manifests. This confusion clouds perception, and through the mutual reinforcement of delusion and misperception, the living being becomes insensible—like a stone—appearing as if this numbness were its original state. But why, one may wonder, does a body that possesses all its limbs still experience pain, delusion, fainting, confusion, disease, and insensibility? This is the result of karma—the primordial vibration set in motion at the beginning of creation. Any suffering that arises is bound only to this span of activity and does not endure beyond it. Just as a cluster of branches sways according to its own nature, so too does suffering arise from the expansion of consciousness. There is no other cause here. When pain becomes intense, the subtle channels of the body abandon their natural rhythm of contraction and expansion. The vital airs then leave the body, returning to their own original state. Death occurs when these vital airs, having entered, do not exit, or having exited, do not return; when the movement of the airs through the channels ceases entirely, life departs. When the vital airs neither enter nor exit, because the channels are impaired, the person is said to be dead. At that moment, there arises an awareness—“Now, I must perish”—a knowledge that was understood before, and now proceeds toward death as impelled by the course of destiny. Yet, the primal awareness from the very beginning—that “I must act thus”—never leads to the destruction of the seed-form of consciousness. Perception itself is the very nature of consciousness, and this is inseparable from it. Thus, apart from the nature of consciousness, there is nothing else in birth or death. Sometimes, consciousness is turbulent, like a whirlpool; sometimes calm, like a gentle river; sometimes soft and gentle—such is the living consciousness. In the continuity of existence, births and deaths are like the joints found in the middle of a long creeper—merely points along the unbroken vine of consciousness. In truth, consciousness, the person, is never born nor does it die; it merely perceives these illusions, just as confusion appears in a dream. The person is nothing but pure consciousness—when and where could such consciousness ever perish? What else could the person be, apart from consciousness itself? Tell me, from when until now, whose consciousness has died? What has died, and in what manner? Countless bodies may perish, but consciousness remains undiminished. If the mind were to die in even a single being, then with that one’s death, all would have died—for the mind is universal. The diversity of mere tendencies is what the living being experiences as its own; and it is for the sake of these tendencies alone that birth and death are named. Thus, truly, nothing is ever born, nor does anyone ever die; the living being merely tumbles in the whirlpool of its own tendencies. When, through reasoning, one recognizes the utter impossibility of these appearances, those tendencies are destroyed by firm knowledge: “They do not exist.” Having thoroughly observed the rise and fall of the world, with all its miseries born of the fear of existence, let this be established as truth: the living being whose tendencies have not arisen is indeed liberated. Now, listen further to the mystery of death and rebirth. Just as this creature dies and is born again, so too does the wise seek understanding of this process. When, in the flow of the subtle channels, disorder arises due to the wind, the creature’s consciousness appears to subside. Yet pure consciousness is eternal—it neither arises nor subsides, abiding equally in the immobile and the moving, in the sky, the mountain, the fire, and the wind. When all movement ceases, solely because the vital air is restrained, the body is said to be dead and is then called inert. When the body has become a corpse and the vital air has merged into space, consciousness, endowed with impressions—the sky-like Self—remains right there. This subtle entity, possessing impressions, is called the jīva. It remains at that very place, whether in the cremation ground or in the sky. Thus, in common speech, it is called “preta”—the departed one. This consciousness, mingled with impressions, abides like fragrant air. When it abandons all this and exists in another vision, it takes on various forms, like a dream or a thought. In that very place, within itself, it becomes endowed with memory as before; at the end of death or of fainting, it perceives another body. Within itself, it may see the framework of bones filled out; in another, only space; or it may perceive the supporting earth, the sun, or the dwellings of sky-born beings. Now, hear the distinctions among pretas, for they are of various kinds: ordinary sinners, moderate sinners, and gross sinners. Likewise, there are those of ordinary virtue, those of middling virtue, and those of excellent virtue. For some, these distinctions are clear; for others, two or even all three may be present. One burdened with great sins, for years after death, experiences a stupor like death, inwardly deluded, with a heart as hard as stone. Then, after some time, awakened by the stirrings of latent impressions, he endures for a long period the unbroken suffering born of those impressions. Having passed through hundreds of wombs, moving from one suffering to another, he sometimes enters this bewildering dream of worldly existence. Or else, at the end of the delusion of death, he instantly experiences, as if rooted in the heart, a dullness overwhelmed by hundreds of sufferings—even taking birth as a tree or the like. Again, he undergoes sufferings in hell corresponding to his own latent tendencies, and after that, is born in various wombs on earth after a long time. But one of middling sin, immediately after the delusion of death, perceives for a time a dullness like the belly of a stone. Then, awakening after some time, either by some cause or just so, he partakes of various births among animals and others, and will enter worldly existence once more. Such is the subtle and profound journey of consciousness, ever untouched in its essence, yet appearing to move through the cycles of suffering and rebirth, until true knowledge dawns and liberation is attained.