Rama, imagine this world as it appears to the pure mind, inherited from one's parents. Just as a peacock’s egg remains nestled within the peacock, so too does the world abide in the mind. From the depths of its own nature, the mind tastes and gradually brings forth the world—much like a seed giving rise to a sprout, leaves, creeper, flower, and fruit. Within, each living being perceives only what is shaped by their own tendencies; the world is likened to a prolonged dream, echoing the fleeting visions we experience at night. Each individual distinctly experiences the vast forest of worldly existence within themselves, just as, in sleep, one clearly witnesses a network of dreams filled with armies and people. This multitude of worldly existences may come together on its own—or perhaps not; if not, then let this be explained and understood. A mind that is impure and weak cannot unite with others, just as unheated iron cannot merge with iron, but pure, heated iron can. Pure essences of mind unite, like waters of the same kind flowing together, while those separated by barriers remain apart. True purity of mind is the absence of tendencies—a single state of non-experience. From this deep sleep, upon awakening, subtle causes give rise to associations with others. Both activity and withdrawal for all beings are preceded by the attainment of subtle elements, immediately after the state of deep sleep. Those who engage in activity have reached these subtle elements; through their unity, they mutually perceive imagined creations. Through the channel of unified subtle elements, the diverse reservoirs of creation intermingle and become dense together. Some remain in separate states and dissolve individually, while others unite and form cosmic eggs. In the expanse where countless thousands of cosmic eggs exist, each within each and unattached to one another, this is called the forest of Brahman. That which does not unite with another, having attained density, perceives only what is established there, nothing else. The force of present mental imaginings causes the succession of living beings to merge, forming established patterns of creation. The existence of the body is firmly rooted, while the absence of the body is forgotten, due to deep identification with the body and forgetfulness of the true self within the space of consciousness. Just as pure vital air, when struck by another’s breath, knows the realm of the one struck, so too do worlds resting within humans become known. For all beings, the three states of self—waking, dream, and deep sleep—are attained, and the body is not the cause. The sense of living in the self, arising from these three states of consciousness, fluctuates as the condition of embodiment, like waves moving in heated water. Having reached the abode of the spark of consciousness and standing at the threshold of deep sleep, the awakened soul withdraws, while the deluded soul creates. When purity of nature arises, friendship manifests as the unity of two, revealed by signs of mutual goodwill. Some ignorant souls, awakened from deep sleep, become creators of their own worlds; others, due to the all-pervasiveness of consciousness, are led by the creations of others. In each creation, distinct forms exist, and intermediate creations arise; within them, inner streams of creation flow, like layers within the stem of a plantain. The fullness of inner creations is like the abundant, rounded leaves of a plantain; the pavilion of Brahman, cool by nature, is likened to the plantain leaf. Just as there is no difference in the plantain among hundreds of leaves, so too, in the essence of Brahman, there is no difference among countless creations. Just as fruit arises from seed and, through its essence, becomes seed again, so too does Brahman become mind and, through awakening, return again to Brahman. The seed, which is the cause of the fruit, expands into the fruit’s form; the individual soul, whose cause is Brahman, expands into the world’s form. It is not proper to ask the cause of the essence, for its nature is undifferentiated; nothing lies beyond it. Nor can non-existence ever be asserted in that which is all; that which is without cause has no prior cause, nor is there a first cause beyond. The seed, abandoning its own form, is seen as the fruit; Brahman, abandoning its own form, is established as both fruit and seed. All forms arise from the formless seed; therefore, that supreme state is formless and cannot be properly compared—there is no analogy for it, O auspicious one. Space alone appears as space, nothing else; thus, know that the world is either unborn or born from Brahman-space. When perceiving the visible, one does not perceive oneself as the seer; whose own state arises when consciousness is pervaded by manifestation? If the illusion of water in a mirage is real, what cleverness is there? But when cleverness is real, what is that mirage? Though the witness, pure as space and all-pervading, does not see—just as the eye does not see itself when it becomes the object of vision—what a wonder this delusion is! Even with effort, Brahman, pure as space, cannot be attained; when the visible is seen merely as visible and not as the seer, its attainment is exceedingly distant. Where something gross like you is not seen without attention, there the visibility of the subtle seer is cast far away. The seer remains only as the seer and never becomes the seen; the seen is seen by the seer—thus, O Rama, the seer is never seen. Only the seer truly exists; there is no seen here at all. If the seer is all, and the seen is established, then what remains to be seen? Whatever is accomplished, in whatever way, by an all-powerful king, so it becomes at once; he alone appears in that form.