Listen, O sage, to the mystery of the mind and body, and the subtle truths that govern their existence. It is said that when either the body or the mind is destroyed, both are considered to perish in this world. Yet, truly, when the mind is undone, the body’s decline is inevitable. Arising from this, you asked, “O Lord, how is it that the mind is, or is not, affected by faults and curses? Please reveal this, Supreme Lord.” In response, hear this: For those who act virtuously, there is nothing in the universe that cannot be attained through pure effort. From Brahma, the creator, down to the immobile beings, all creatures in this world at all times possess two bodies. One is the body of the mind—swift, unstable, and never achieving concrete results on its own. The other is the body made of flesh, which is always subject to the control of others, afflicted by curses and diseases, almost mute and powerless, miserable and perishing in an instant. Like water trembling on a lotus leaf, it is ever unsteady, its fate dependent like that of gods and mortals alike. The second body, the mind, dwells within embodied beings. Though it depends on the being, within the three worlds it remains essentially independent. If one supports oneself with steadfast effort and courage, one becomes blameless and untouched by suffering. As the mind-body strives, so it alone becomes the enjoyer of its own resolve. No effort of the physical body ever truly bears fruit; every action of the mind, however, is indeed fruitful. When one remains established in remembrance with a pure mind, curses and the like are powerless there, just as arrows are against a stone. Whether the body falls into water, fire, or mud, whatever the mind pursues, that alone it attains. Extraordinary effort, born of subduing all states, yields its result without hindrance—mind alone grants fruit to mind, O sage. By strength of effort, making the inner mind full of delight, even artificial suffering is not perceived, not even under strict command. By effort, when the mind is freed from passion and affliction, even Māṇḍavya, impaled upon the stake, overcame suffering. Even in a dark pit, a sage, through mental accumulations of sacrifice and long austerity, attained the city of the gods. By the resolve of men, the sons of the moon, through meditation, the state of Brahman was attained—a state undiminished even by me. Other wise ones—attentive, steadfast, great sages and gods—never abandon their inquiry into the mind, not even slightly. Afflictions, diseases, curses, and the vision of evil do not harm them, just as blows from lotus leaves do not break a stone. Those few who are harmed by curses or afflictions, I consider their minds lacking discernment and strength. Never, at any time in this world, is an attentive mind corrupted by webs of faults; even in dreams, no one is so tainted. Therefore, by the mind itself, a person should, through their own effort, direct their mind onto the pure path. Whatever appears to one becomes one’s reality; in an instant, the mind grows full, like a forest of childlike ghosts. The mind immediately abandons its previous state in accordance with what appears, just as a pot takes the shape the potter gives and then returns to a lump of clay. The mind attains the nature of whatever appears to it in an instant, just as water, which is mere vibration, becomes a high wave. By mere contemplation, the mind can see night in the sun’s disk, just as impure eyes see a double image of the moon. Whatever the mind perceives quickly becomes its reality; with joy and sorrow, it experiences that very thing as true. When the mind sees hundreds of flames in the moon, it feels burning and suffers as if scorched. When it perceives nectar even in brine, it attains supreme satisfaction and exults with pride. In the same way, when the mind sees a great forest in the sky, it can cut, gather, and restore it at will. Thus, whatever illusion the mind swiftly imagines, it immediately perceives. Knowing truly that the world is neither unreal nor real, abandon this vision with its manifold distinctions. Therefore, O sage, understand that the origin of all things in the three worlds is from Brahman, just as waves arise from the ocean. Some, though they have passed through thousands of births, fall like leaves in the forest, tossed by the wind of karma, rolling in the hollows of mountains. Some beings, immeasurable in their nature, are continually deluded by ignorance; born long ago, they wander here for hundreds of aeons. Some, having enjoyed only a few delightful existences, dwell in this world devoted to virtuous actions. Some, having realized true knowledge, attain the supreme state, like droplets in the ocean carried away by the wind. The arising of all seeds is from the state of Brahman; attachment to worldly existence appears and disappears, unstable in its manifestation. Disposition, bearing the fever of imbalance and poison, causes endless distress, confusion, and the mingling of harmful actions. It moves through various directions, places, times, and mountain caves; fashioned with supreme diversity, it creates cycles of bewilderment. Thus, O wise one, is the subtle nature of mind and body, the fruits of effort, and the ever-shifting play of existence.