O Rama, the sage began to speak of the profound mysteries of existence, revealing that among men there are three kinds of births, all rooted in the mind. This mind, he explained, is the primary cause—its nature is both existence and non-existence, subtle and elusive. Rama, curious and eager for wisdom, asked: “How has this mind, known as pure consciousness and free from all impurity, arisen and expanded to become the very creator of this manifold world?” To answer, the sage described three kinds of space, each distinct and all-pervading: the space of mind, the space of consciousness, and the elemental space. These three spaces are present everywhere and common to all beings. Yet, through the power of pure consciousness, they are drawn together into the unity of existence. The sage continued: “The space of consciousness is that which is both within and without, the knower, the revealer of being, pervading all creatures. The space of mind is the creator, beneficial to all, consisting of the divisions of time and thought, by which the entire world is spread forth. And the elemental space, unbroken in form and extending through the ten directions, is the very essence of the elements, supporting wind, water, and all else.” He explained that the spaces of mind and the elemental space both arise under the influence of the space of consciousness, for consciousness is the root cause of all effects, just as the day is the cause of all activities. When the mind is uncertain, wavering between “I am inert” and “I am not inert,” it becomes impure. This very mind gives rise to space and the other elements. The conception of these threefold spaces, the sage said, is taught only as a means of instruction for those whose inner awareness is not yet awakened; for the awakened, such distinctions are unnecessary. In truth, there is only one supreme Brahman, which is all—pervading everything, awakened, pure, eternal, and utterly free from all division. All teachings that speak of duality and nonduality are meant only for those who are ignorant, never for the awakened. As long as awakening has not dawned, the conception of the threefold space is taught merely for the sake of understanding. In reality, space, mental space, and all such distinctions arise from tainted consciousness, just as mirages arise from the heat of the desert. When consciousness assumes the impure form of mind, it creates illusory worlds, full of confusion, like the tricks of a magician. This state of mind, belonging to the impure conscious essence, is perceived by those who lack understanding—just as the ignorant see silver in a shell. Thus, bondage arises from ignorance, and liberation comes only through knowledge. The sage then told a parable to illustrate the mind’s restless search for liberation. “O sinless one, wherever and however the mind arises, it always strives, in its own way, for freedom. Imagine a vast, empty, and peaceful yet terrifying wilderness, so immense that not even the smallest corner is seen in the sky. In this wilderness, there exists a single man with a thousand hands and eyes, his mind greatly agitated and fearsome, his form spread wide. With his thousand arms, he grasps many clubs and strikes his own back, only to flee from himself. He strikes himself with strong blows, and his fearful mind flees for hundreds of leagues. Crying out, he runs here and there, exhausted and helpless, his feet and limbs broken, until he collapses. Helpless, he falls into a great, dark, blind well, whose depths are filled with the darkness of night and the pride of ignorance. After a long time, he rises from the well, only to strike himself again and flee from himself. He wanders into a thicket of karanja bushes, filled with thorns, like a grasshopper leaping into fire. From that painful grove, he emerges in a moment, once again striking himself as he flees. He enters the same blind well again, his limbs disordered in his haste. Rising from the well, he enters a grove of plantains, again striking himself and fleeing. He goes farther and enters a lovely plantain forest, cool as moonbeams, as if laughing. Yet from this grove he emerges again, only to return to the bright thicket of karanja bushes. From the karanja grove to the well, from the well to another plantain grove, he passes, always striking himself, always fleeing, yet remaining bound within himself. Observing this strange and pitiable conduct, I approached him with care. Forcibly, I restrained him and awakened him for a moment. I asked, ‘Who are you? What is this? Why are you doing this? What is your name, what do you seek? Why are you so utterly bewildered in vain?’ Questioned thus, he replied, ‘I am no one, nor is this anything. O sage, I do not do anything at all. By you I have been exposed; you are my enemy. Seen by you, I am lost, both for sorrow and for happiness.’ After these words, he looked at his own limbs and stood still; then, miserable, he wailed loudly, like a cloud pouring rain upon the earth. Yet in a moment, he ceased his weeping. Gazing upon his own limbs, he shed his whiteness as the moon casts off its rays. Then, after a burst of laughter, he gradually abandoned all his limbs, one after another, in every direction—first his head, dreadful to behold, then his arms, his chest, and his abdomen. And then, in a moment, that man, his limbs, and all confusion vanished completely, just as a dream disappears upon waking.