In the luminous expanse of pure awareness, the world’s essential nature—expressed as ‘I’, ‘you’, and all distinctions—shines forth as a single radiance. Within the spaciousness of consciousness itself, only its own emptiness truly exists; thus, notions of duality, unity, or any conceptual distinctions have no true foothold. Yet, a curious delusion arises: “I am the world.” This sense of separateness appears spontaneously, without any external cause. O Brahman, please explain again—how does this delusion come to be? All experiences, in every way and at all times, are found equally within. Because of this, the unborn One is all—one Self underlying everything. All powers signified by words such as ‘all’ and ‘beginning’ are but Brahman alone; their forms, as meanings and distinctions, do not exist apart from That. Just as braceletness is not separate from gold, nor waveness from water, so too the world does not exist apart from the Lord. The Lord alone is the true form of the world, yet the world-form is not the Lord, just as gold alone is braceletness, but braceletness is not gold itself. Though consciousness is without parts, it is the very essence of all, just as a composite object’s form arises from many parts. That which is the awareness of all subtle elements within the Supreme appears inwardly as this world and as the sense of ‘I’. Like the arrangement of many lines within a stone creates seeming distinctions, so too, within the solid mass of consciousness, the world and the ‘I’ appear as if separate, though they are not. As waves exist in water, stirred by other waves, so creations exist within the Supreme, but they are devoid of any real meaning of creation. The Supreme does not exist as creation, nor does creation exist apart from the Supreme—just as the existence of a whole and its parts are never truly separate. Through the form of consciousness and the knowing of space, only the subtle essence of space is perceived, just as the heart’s own form is felt as movement by the wind. In that very moment, this subtle sound-particle, flashing as consciousness, is perceived inwardly by the tranquil one, like a thought in the mind. Then, it knows itself as the very essence of its own being, just as the wind, containing the essence of inner movement, comes to know itself as vibration. In that moment, it appears as its own essential being, even while remaining within the sheath—like light manifesting even when enclosed. At that instant, the unborn One perceives its own essential being, established in the heart as the subtle essence, just as water becomes fluid. The unborn One knows the earth, which is of the nature of its own mind, as the inner subtle essence of scent, just as the firmness of the earth is known. Perceptions, in equal portions of time, moments, and instants, are always the manifestation of consciousness; this is the continuous succession of the streams of creation. When its own nature ceases, the undisturbed Brahman alone remains—free from rising and setting—even amidst all that is seen. That which is awakened is ever free from affliction, and even when creation arises, it remains unchanged. But that which is unawakened, taking the form of creation, is always subject to dissolution. However and whatever the consciousness-Brahman realizes of its own nature within itself, so does it experience all—for it is all-powerful. This is true, because it is ever-experienced as the play of knowledge; yet it is untrue, for it is only a mental construct, beyond all description. Just as movement exists in the wind, so creation abides in the Supreme; in the conception of the unreal, it is unreal, and in the real, it appears as if unreal. As a different form is not separate within the radiance inside light, so the glory of the universe, with its nature of reality and unreality, is not apart from Brahman, the Self. Just as a figure is not carved in clay or a doll in wood, and as colors are not distinct in a mass of ink, so all creations abide in the Supreme. The essence of Brahman alone shines forth on the desert of reality; the existence of the three worlds is an unreal, impermanent mirage. By Brahman, which is pure consciousness, the Self, which is the essence of creation, is conceived; yet, due to non-difference, it is not conceived—just as a tree is not separate from the seed within. Just as sweetness belongs to milk, pungency to pepper, liquidity to water, and vibration within the wind, so, though not other, yet appearing as other—and not established as such in the Self—creation, of the nature of unbroken consciousness, is held within the Supreme Self. What is called the world is but an appearance of the jewel of Brahman; it is without cause, and therefore not different from That. The experience of impressions, mind, life-force, and so on, arises from sensation; but when there is no sensation, none of these arise—thus, individuality is nothing but sensation. Nothing ever sets nor rises anywhere at any time; all is peaceful, unborn Brahman—pure consciousness, subtle and gentle. Around the subtlest atom, countless creations appear due to consciousness; within each atom are yet others—how then can any reckoning be made? Just as waves within water are hidden or manifest by their own power, so too waking, dreaming, deep sleep, and so forth abide within the individual. If even the slightest distaste for pleasures arises, then, say the scriptures, one has already attained the highest state. Wherever one is freed from attachment, there one is liberated; so, who, lacking the sense of ‘I am’, could experience the sense of birth? Those who know consciousness as supreme and inferior, unborn, formless, nameless, and the foundation of all moving and unmoving things—they are truly victorious. There is a supreme consciousness, unmanifest and nondual, like a subtle line within water; by it, the three worlds are sustained. Those whose essence is That neither exist nor do not exist. This consciousness, which is the very nature of ‘I’ and the source of the lotus-born Brahma, spreads out the universe through the diversity of its own thoughts. Inwardly, it experiences the infinite even within a fraction of a blink, as the end of an age. Indeed, even the thousands of world-cycles seem entirely real during the countless divisions of the smallest atoms and moments.