In the teachings of the sages, it is said that discernment, when applied with care and wisdom to the mastery of the senses, brings forth its fruits just as medicine, when properly administered to the body, restores health. This discernment shines most brightly in speech, illuminating like a radiant fire. Yet, for one who abandons discernment, it becomes a source of suffering, for its absence leads only to pain. Discernment is not merely a matter of words; it is felt and known, much like the wind is sensed through touch and not by what is spoken. The true measure of discernment is seen in the diminishing of desire. One must understand that nectar depicted in a painting is not real nectar, nor is the fire in a painting true fire. Likewise, a painted woman is not a real woman, and discernment spoken of in words alone is not genuine discernment. At first, discernment weakens attachment and enmity at their roots; with continued practice, these are entirely eliminated. Where this purification occurs, true discrimination arises and flourishes. Now, after learning about origination, listen, O Rama, to the teachings on sustenance. This knowledge, when truly understood, leads one toward liberation. The essence of consciousness is a single, solid mass, within which the countless varieties of living beings exist—like the layers within a plantain stem or the insects hidden within the human body. Just as, in the heat of summer, worms arise from sweat and filth, so too do beings spontaneously emerge from the mind, taking on various forms and names. These beings strive to realize their own true nature, and according to their diverse practices, they swiftly attain different results. Those who worship the gods become gods; those who worship yakshas become yakshas; those who worship Brahman attain Brahman. One attains that which is not trivial, but which one truly seeks. Shukra, the son of Bhrigu, through the purity of his own awareness, was at first bound by what he perceived, but soon, by his very nature, became free. Whatever form pure, untainted awareness first assumes in noble or undeveloped children, that alone becomes their nature; no other form arises. O Lord, please explain the distinction between the waking and dream states. How does waking become waking, and how does dream become not-waking? That which is accompanied by steady conviction is called waking; that which is accompanied by unsteady conviction is declared to be dream. If what is seen for a moment in waking persists at another time, then waking takes on the nature of dream, and the dream attains the nature of waking. The distinction between waking and dream does not exist apart from steadiness or unsteadiness; in both, the experience is essentially the same everywhere. Whatever attains steadiness is called waking. Now listen to how dream is of the nature of momentary dissolution. Within the body dwells the vital essence by which one lives. This vital essence, called 'tejas' or 'vīrya', is known as the life-principle, O dear one. When the body acts in the world through mind, action, or speech, the vital essence flourishes and spreads. As it moves through the limbs, awareness arises through contact; due to its fullness, it is called 'mind', in which the illusion of the world remains submerged. Flowing outward through the openings such as the eyes, it perceives within itself a form endowed with various shapes and modifications. Because of its steadiness, this is understood as the waking state; this is called the waking sequence. Now listen to the sequence beginning with deep sleep. When the body is not agitated by mind, action, or speech, the vital principle remains calm, at rest, and pure. When the inner airs have attained equilibrium, the heart is undisturbed—like a lamp in a windless chamber shining solely by its own light. Then, consciousness does not move through the limbs nor is it disturbed by them; it does not reach the openings such as the eyes, nor does it go outward. The jīva shines within, like the awareness of oil within a sesame seed, like the awareness of cold in snow, or the awareness of oiliness in ghee. The jīva, remaining as a subtle portion of time, abides in its own tranquility and enters the state of deep sleep, peaceful, with gentle breaths, devoid of outward consciousness. One who knows the cessation of mental activity, even while engaging in worldly actions, is awake in waking, dream, and deep sleep, and is remembered as established in the fourth state. When the vital airs, having attained calmness as in deep sleep, are stirred, that is the life-principle; that is consciousness, which then arises as mind. The network of the world, abiding within the inner self, is seen swiftly within, in parts and by gradual turns, just as a great tree is contained in a seed. When the life-principle is greatly agitated by the winds, it perceives movement in the inner space of itself, like the sky being stirred. When flooded by water, it experiences within itself the confusion of water and feels inner delight, like a flower. When seized by bile and the like, it experiences within itself the confusion of fire, heat, and so on, intensely, as if all were outside. When filled with blood, it sees externally places and times of red color, and, due to the nature of experience, immerses itself right there. Whatever impression it pursues, that it sees within while asleep; when agitated by the winds through the channels, it sees outwardly through the senses, as it were. When, with the sense-channels not engaged and undisturbed within, it swiftly experiences consciousness; this is called dream. When the channels of the senses are fully engaged and the mind is disturbed by external awareness, that state in which one perceives is called waking, according to those who are truly wise. Thus, now that you know this, O you of great intellect, abide in truth here. In this unreal world, do not entertain thoughts of death, sorrow, or the faults of transmigration. Whatever the mind repeatedly contemplates with firm resolve, that it becomes—just as a piece of iron, by contact with fire, takes on the nature of fire. The notions of existence and non-existence, grasping and letting go, are all imagined by the mind; they are neither unreal nor real, but arise due to the fickleness of the mind.