O Rama, consider this subtle truth: No mere effort of the physical body ever bears true fruit on its own. It is the actions of the mind, united with the body, that indeed shape one’s destiny. When a person remains established in remembrance, their mind pure and unwavering, then curses, ill-wishes, and the like are powerless against them—just as arrows are futile when loosed against a stone. No matter what befalls the body—whether it is plunged into water, cast into fire, or sunk in mud—it is the mind’s pursuit alone that determines what is truly attained. All extraordinary effort, when it arises from the mastery over all states of mind, yields its result without hindrance. Mind alone grants fruit to mind, O sage. By the strength of one’s effort, when the inner mind is made full of delight, even artificial suffering is not experienced, not even under the harshest commands. By effort, making the mind free from passion and affliction, the sage Māṇḍavya overcame all suffering, even while standing impaled at the tip of a stake. Even when dwelling in a dark pit, a sage, through mental accumulations of sacrifice and long austerity, attained the city of the gods. By the firm resolve of men—the sons of the moon—through meditation, the supreme state of Brahman was attained, a state not diminished even by me. Other wise ones, attentive and 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 to be incapable of discernment and lacking true strength. Never, at any time in this world, is an attentive mind corrupted by webs of faults—even in dreams, no one so attuned is tainted. Therefore, by the mind itself, a person should, through their own effort, direct their mind onto the pure path. Whatever appears to a person, that alone becomes their reality; in an instant, the mind grows full, like a forest teeming with childlike ghosts. The mind immediately abandons its previous state in accordance with what appears before it, just as a pot follows the work of the potter and returns to a lump of clay. The mind, O sage, instantly assumes the nature of whatever appears to it, just as water, which is but vibration, becomes a high wave. By mere contemplation, the mind can see night even in the sun’s disk, just as impure eyes see a double image of the moon. Whatever the mind perceives quickly becomes its reality; together with joy and sorrow, it experiences that very thing as true. Likewise, when the mind sees hundreds of flames in the moon, it feels burning and suffers pain as if scorched. Similarly, when the mind perceives nectar even in brine, by seeing and drinking it, it attains supreme satisfaction and exults with pride. In the same way, when the mind perceives a great forest in the sky, it cuts, gathers, and restores it at will. Thus, whatever illusion the mind swiftly imagines, O dear one, it immediately perceives. Knowing truly that the world is neither unreal nor real, abandon this vision with its manifold distinctions. Therefore, understand that the origin of all things within the three worlds is from Brahman, just as waves arise from the ocean. Some, though endowed with thousands of births, fall like leaves in the forest, tossed about 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 passed through 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; the 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. This creeper of worldly existence, grown wild and decayed, when cut thoroughly by the axe of clear insight—with mind and body dissolved and disturbed—does not sprout again, O Ramabhadra. Listen, Raghava, and I will explain the distinctions of origin among objects—superior, inferior, and intermediate—as they arise here and there. Thus, the first arising in this very birth is considered the pure sattvic origin of Brahman for that person. This so-called ‘first arising’ is born from the practice of virtue, is established in auspicious realms, and is connected to righteous actions. If it, while engaging with various worldly tendencies, attains liberation through a few noble dispositions, it is rich in virtues. That which gives results according to such causes and effects, and is inferred from actions, is therefore called ‘rajas-sattva’ by the wise. But if, engaging with diverse worldly tendencies, it is extremely impure and attains knowledge only after thousands of births, that which gives results according to such causes and effects, and is inferred from unrighteous actions, is called ‘inferior sattva’ by the wise. If, after countless cycles of birth, liberation remains doubtful, then it is called ‘utterly tamasic.’ O Rama, the origin of such dullness, not from the present birth but from previous ones, is considered a middling birth for a person, occurring after two or three lifetimes. Thus, O Rama, the workings of the mind and the subtle distinctions of origin shape all beings and their destinies, all springing forth from the vast ocean of Brahman.