Just as when one forgets the true nature of gold, the illusion arises that bracelets and ornaments exist as separate realities, so too, the forms and names of bracelets and such appear in gold, shaped by conditions like place and circumstance. Yet, when your vision is filled with true knowledge, there is no separate, supreme ignorance; all the diverse forms—bracelets and more—are in truth one, pure Brahman alone. Because awareness is one, this creation is only existence itself, never nonexistence—just as an army of clay figures appears as many, yet is only clay at its core. Water is one, yet waves and ripples arise; wood is one, yet it takes the shapes of carvings and sculptures; clay is one, yet pots and vessels are formed. In the same way, Brahman alone appears as the illusion of the three worlds. In the relationship of seer and seen, the true essence at the heart of the seer is beyond seer, seeing, and seen—this is the supreme reality. When the mind wanders from place to place, the essence shining within it is pure awareness, free from dullness; always immerse yourself in that. Become ever identified with your own eternal essence, which transcends waking, dreaming, and deep sleep—beyond unconsciousness, insentience, and inertness. Set aside only the heaviness, the dullness like the heart of a stone; whether disturbed or undisturbed, remain identified with that essence, O Raghava. Here, nothing truly arises or dissolves in anyone; whether disturbed or not, abide in your own nature as you wish. One does not truly desire or hate anything at any time in the body; remain established in yourself, free from anxiety, calmly engaging in the activities of the body. Just as you do not dwell on affairs of distant villages or cities, so too, having realized your true nature, do not dwell on the movements of the mind. Regard the mind as insentient, like a man in a foreign land, or like a piece of wood or stone, in accordance with your own true nature. Just as there is no water in a stone, and no fire in water, so too, there is no mind in your own Self; how then could it exist in the Supreme Self? That by which nothing at all is perceived, and by which nothing is done anywhere—know this to be yourself, beyond the mind. If you follow the mind, which is utterly not your true self, why not follow a stranger who dwells at the edge? Constantly disregard the impurity of the mind from afar, remaining established in yourself, free from doubt, unmoved as if dulled by mud. For me, the mind does not exist; it is gone, as if dead today. Become steadfast, like a stone statue, unwavering in your resolve. In observation, the mind is not present; thus, you are truly without it. Why, then, be troubled by what is meaningless, or by what pertains to it? Those who are dominated by the unreal dice of the mind, or excessively so, for them—whose intellect is weak—a thunderbolt might as well arise from the moon. Abandoning the mind far away, whoever you are, remain as you are, steadfast. Through contemplation and supreme reasoning, be liberated. Those who follow the unreal, the insubstantial mind, let them be condemned, whose time is spent only in actions as fleeting as those in the sky or forest. Become a great soul with the mind dissolved, having reached the far shore of existence, with a pure self. Even after long inquiry, nothing impure is found in the mind-self. Such a one neither delights in what has come, nor grieves for what has not; free from all anxiety, he simply follows what arrives. O Raghava, you have already known all that is to be known; your impulses toward all undertakings have become thin. You may abide beyond bodily activity, or remain within the body; do not fall into sorrow or joy—you are the Self, free from affliction. When the Self, pure, all-pervading, ever-luminous, abides in you, O Rama, how can there be pleasure or pain, or birth and death? Though you are without relations, why grieve over the sorrows of relatives? When the non-dual Self alone exists, who indeed are relatives in the Self? What is seen is only the aggregate of bodily atoms; due to the arising of space, time, and otherness, the Self neither appears nor disappears. Though you are imperishable, why grieve, thinking "I perish"? In the Self, untouched by death and pure, what destruction can there be? When a pot is reduced to fragments, the space within is not destroyed; in the same way, when this body is lost, you are not destroyed. Just as, when the waves of a mirage have ceased, there is no more heat, so too, when the body is destroyed, the Self does not perish. Why does this desire arise in you? This inner delusion is meaningless. How can the non-dual Self desire something other than itself? O Raghava, whatever is heard, touched, seen, delightful, or smelled—nothing exists in the world apart from the Self. All these powers abide only in that Self; when manifested and spread out, these powers are like the emptiness in space. When the mind is established, this universe appears within its womb; by the threefold process, people are deluded into existence. When the calming of the mind is accomplished—when the extinction of tendencies and the cessation of actions is attained—this illusion is destroyed. In this fierce machinery of worldly existence, the strong cord that drives it is tendency; O Raghava, cut this cord of tendency with effort. When not recognized, this tendency gives rise to great delusion; but when known, it bestows the bliss called infinite and leads to Brahman. Having come from Brahman, experiencing worldly existence here as a play, one remembers Brahman again and dissolves back into Brahman. O Raghava, from Shiva—who is formless, immeasurable, and free from all affliction—all beings arise, just as radiance comes forth from light.