In the vast, peaceful expanse of the one true reality, where nothing else exists, whatever arises or departs by mere thought attains fulfillment in the Supreme Self. Yet, just as this accomplishment is born from thought, so too is it dissolved by thought—like a flame that the wind snuffs out. When effort brings about some experience of enjoyment, it is only ignorance assuming a form, and this too dissolves when thought ceases altogether. If the mind clings firmly to the notion, “I am not Brahman,” it becomes bound; but if it holds steadfast to “All is Brahman,” it is set free. Thought itself is the highest form of bondage, while freedom lies in the absence of thought. When you have mastered the mind within, you may act as you wish, untroubled. Once, I beheld in the sky a wondrous lotus, its petals golden and radiant, alive with restless bees of beryl, its fragrance wafting through the air, and the very directions seemed to serve as its garment. She, the lotus, laughed, her arms graceful as lotus stalks, her proud curves displayed openly, as if to mock the shining moon’s circle of rays. In the same way, the web of imagination, though entirely unreal, appears real to the mind. The mind conjures it up, much like a child invents things—only to disturb its own peace. Thus, in this world, ignorance is imagined by the restless, childlike mind, which binds itself with thoughts of existence and nonexistence, bringing nothing but suffering. If one thinks, “I am thin, I am afflicted, I am bound, I have hands and feet,” then one is bound by the very nature of such thoughts and actions. But if one thinks, “I am not afflicted, I have no body—what bondage can there be for this conscious self?” then one is freed, in accordance with those thoughts and actions. Whoever is firmly convinced within, “I am not flesh, nor bones; I am other than the body, I am the supreme,” is said to have destroyed ignorance within himself. Consider the brilliance that crowns a lofty mountain of sapphire, or the radiance that shines above, so pure that even the sun’s rays cannot pierce it—it stands apart from the splendor of darkness. Just as someone on earth imagines darkness in the sky, due to his own nature and conception, so too, this ignorance—the idea of self in what is not the self—is merely imagined by one who has not awakened, never by one who is awake, O Raghava. This luster is not the gleam of a sapphire from Mount Meru, nor is it the glow of darkness. So, tell me, O Brahman, what causes the blueness of the sky? O Rama, the blue of the sky does not truly exist in the void; it is not the radiance of any gem, nor the light of the Meru sapphire. Because the cosmic egg is made of light, because of the brilliance of the perfected ones, and the supreme luminosity beyond the cosmic shell, darkness cannot arise here. What appears is mere emptiness, O fortunate one, though it seems to take many forms; it is like the ignorance that shapes itself to each age, never composed of reality. When vision is lost, only nonexistence arises as darkness; so too, the blackness seen in the sky is due to the very nature of the object. With right understanding, one knows that the darkness seen in the sky is not real darkness; in the same way, in the gloom of ignorance, knowledge arises. The wise say that the restraint of ignorance is simply the absence of imagination, just as with the sky-lotus; and this is, in truth, very easy. For this world-illusion, which has arisen like the color of the sky, O noble one, I consider non-remembrance—forgetting—to be better. Just as a person perishes in sorrow by the thought “I am lost,” so too, by the thought “I am awakened,” one attains happiness. In the same way, deluded thoughts lead again to delusion; but with the noble thought of awakening, one pursues awakening. From a single moment’s recollection, this perpetual ignorance arises; but with effortful forgetting, the object truly dissolves. Imagination is the creator of all states, the deluder of all beings; it frees in the destruction of the self, and destroys in the growth of the self. Whatever the mind contemplates, the senses quickly carry out, just as ministers obey the command of a king. Therefore, one who does not let the mind dwell on objects, but remains inwardly aware and diligent, attains peace. That which did not exist at the beginning does not exist now; what appears as this world is the one peaceful, unblemished Brahman. Whose, how, and whence are these cherished notions of the mind? Remain untroubled, beginningless and endless, unconfined by any restraint. With supreme effort and utmost discernment, one should uproot completely from the mind—even by the roots—the very conception of desire for enjoyment. That which arises as the supreme delusion, the cause of old age and death, is the latent tendency that flourishes with countless bonds of hope. “My sons, my wealth, I am this, this is mine”—by this single latent tendency, like a magician’s illusion, the mind leaps about. In this body, which is itself empty, the notion of “I” is cast by ignorance and latent impression, wavering like the wind in a hollow. In truth, O knower of reality, enough of “mine,” “I,” and “this”; apart from the essence of the Self, nothing else ever truly exists. With the perception of creation, this same manifold ignorance revolves again and again, just as mountain ranges, continents, and peaks appear and reappear. It arises only from ignorance and ceases only through knowledge; it is delimited by consciousness alone, like a snake imagined on a rope. This earth, with its mountains and rivers, is that very knowledge, O Rama, for the knower; it is not ignorance for him, for Brahman abides in its own greatness. Both rope and snake are imagined by ignorance; but through knowledge, only one remains: the uncontrived vision of Brahman.