If one truly perceives the self as it is—empty of all inherent reality—and examines it with a clear mind, then, freed from the sense of “I”, there is no longer any sorrow. For the one whose mind is tranquil, the world itself appears tranquil, just as a person whose feet are wrapped feels as if the whole earth is covered in leather. In truth, apart from illusion, nothing else exists in all the worlds, just as within a banana plant there is nothing but leaves. The mind, caught in the dance of delusion, gives rise to the seeming realities of childhood, youth, old age, death, heaven, and hell. Within the undivided self, the mind’s play is like the bubbling of wine—its capacity to create the cycle of existence is intoxicating. Just as a flaw in the eye makes one see two moons, so when consciousness is touched by the power of awareness, it perceives duality within the supreme self. Similarly, a drunken man sees trees spinning around him due to the influence of wine; so too, when consciousness is disturbed, the world appears manifold and diverse. Like a child, confused in play, sees the world spinning like a potter’s wheel, so does consciousness make the world appear as an object of perception. When consciousness perceives duality, the illusions of difference and unity arise; but when it does not perceive duality, both difference and unity vanish. Whatever is perceived is not apart from consciousness; when nothing is seen as separate, the activity of consciousness comes to rest. When you abide unmoving, having realized oneness with pure consciousness, then, whether you act or remain at rest, you are truly at peace. Subtle consciousness perceives objects, while dense consciousness perceives nothing—just as one lightly intoxicated is restless, but one deeply intoxicated is at peace. For one firmly established in the supreme state of unity with pure consciousness, it may be described as selflessness, emptiness, and the like. It is only the confusion of consciousness that gives rise to the sense of being perceiver and perceived, leading to the false notions: “I am born, I live, I die, I wander in the world.” Apart from its own nature, there is no consciousness or sentience—just as there is no movement in air without vibration, so what is perceived, and by what? If perception itself is impossible, then whatever is thought to be perceived by consciousness is like mistaking a rope for a snake—an illusion born of ignorance, as the wise know. This disease called worldly existence can only be cured by pure awareness; why, then, do you labor in the mere agitation of the mind? If, abandoning everything, you remain free from all tendencies, then in that very instant you are liberated—there is no doubt of this. Just as the illusion of a snake in a rope vanishes instantly without the rope moving, so too does worldly existence disappear through the transformation of pure awareness. Wherever desire arises, if you stand firm and abandon it, then liberation is surely attained, dear one—what could be difficult in this? Here, great souls abandon even their very life-breath as if it were straw; when desire is given up, what loss can there be in renouncing anything else? Wherever desire arises, abandon it with a mind that grasps nothing; act with the organs of action, accepting or rejecting what comes, and remain established, O friend. Just as a bilva fruit in your palm or a mountain before your eyes is plainly visible, so too is the unborn nature of the Supreme Self directly evident. It is said that the Self alone shines as the world, like the ocean at the end of an age, stirred by waves yet immeasurable; when known, it grants liberation, but when unknown, it binds the mind for ages. A question arises: this living being, who is not suited to the mind—who could he be in relation to the Supreme Self? How did he arise, and who is he? Tell me again. Brahman, the Lord of all, is ever adorned with all powers; by whichever power it manifests, that very power is perceived. The All-Self itself knows the consciousness that is awareness; this is called jīva, the maker of intention. Consciousness itself, first imagining duality as its own nature and cause, later assumes manifold causality in birth, death, and existence. With things thus, O best of sages, what then is destiny? What is action? What is cause? Here, only pure consciousness exists, having the nature of vibration and non-vibration; like wind in the sky, from its vibration comes delight, otherwise it is peaceful. When consciousness assumes the form of mind, it is called vibration by the wise; when it is not so formed as an object, this is known as non-vibration. From vibration, consciousness appears as creation; without vibration, it is the eternal Brahman. Causes, actions, and other factors of individuality are but names for the vibration of consciousness. This very vibration of consciousness, which is the nature of experience, is called the seed of transmigration—the cause, action, and individuality of the living being. When the body arises due to the appearance of duality in consciousness, the vibration of consciousness, through various intentions, gradually experiences manifold objects. Having taken on various causes, the vibration of consciousness is eventually liberated—some after a thousand births, some after a single one. By its own nature, consciousness, having entered duality, gradually assumes the causes of bondage to heaven, liberation, or hell. Just as gold becomes an ornament, yet remains the same as wood or clay in its essence, so in the body, diversity does not truly exist; in inert matter, it is merely a change of state. The mind perceives this delusion as real, though it is unborn and unreal; just as after birth one thinks “I exist,” and after death, “I am gone,” so is the fall into the end of delusion. The mind perceives the unreal forms of “I” and “mine” due to its lack of true vision, and remains bound by hope. Just as the king of Mathura was disturbed by the presence of a dog-eater, so too does the mind become agitated, and thus the world appears to manifest.