For the one who has awakened to the supreme reality, whose awareness is ever-vigilant and never lapses into slumber, the path of worldly existence appears as nothing more than a dense, bewildering dream. Such a person, having tasted the essence of truth, finds even the most delightful pleasures insipid; the heart loses all longing and becomes utterly free from desire. When the mind is exhausted—purged of attachments and cravings—it dissolves effortlessly into the Absolute, just as accumulated snow melts away beneath the gentle warmth of the sun. Craving’s waves subside; like rivers that dry up after the rain clouds have passed, the inner agitation comes to rest. When the tangled net of worldly desires is finally broken, as a birdcage is shattered by a rat and the knots loosened by the power of dispassion, liberation dawns. Through the light of knowledge, the mind becomes clear and tranquil, just as water clarifies when mixed with the fruit of the kataka nut. Freed from passion, attachment, the sense of duality, and dependence, the mind leaves delusion behind, like a bird escaping its cage. When all doubts and pettiness are calmed, curiosity and confusion vanish, and the mind shines within—whole and luminous, like the full moon. From this state arises equanimity, born of supreme beauty, spreading everywhere like a gentle breeze over the ocean—high and far-reaching. The darkness and confusion of worldly desire, worn thin by inner dullness, fade away like night at the approach of dawn. When the sun of consciousness rises, the lotus of wisdom, adorned with shoots of virtue, blossoms in radiant purity, like the morning sky. Wisdom, enchanting the heart and capable of delighting the entire world, manifests as the wealth of virtue, shining like the rays of the full moon. What more need be said? The great mind, having realized all that is to be known, neither rises nor sets, but remains ever-present, like the space within the sky. For one whose true nature is realized through self-inquiry, and whose self has arisen in clear understanding, even the great gods—Brahma, Vishnu, Indra, and Shiva—become objects of compassion. Outwardly, thoughts may appear, but they do not touch the one whose mind is free from ego, just as the mirage-water never wets the deer. All these worlds come and go like waves, but for the knower, birth and death—arising from the self—are gathered up and do not disturb. Manifestation and dissolution alone mark the course of saṃsāra; seeing both clearly, the wise one delights and is untroubled. Just as the space within a pot is neither born nor destroyed when the pot is adorned or broken, so too, the self within the body remains untouched and unaffected. When discernment arises, the chill of delusion—born from the weight of false understanding—is dispelled, and desire in the clouded mind fades away like a desert mirage. As long as one does not inquire, “Who am I? What is this?”, the commotion of saṃsāra persists like darkness. The body, born of mistaken understanding, is a source of suffering; the true seer does not regard it as the self. He truly sees who, freed from delusion, perceives pleasure and pain—arising from place and time—as not belonging to himself. The one who sees the self and all else with an undivided vision, recognizing everything as the light of consciousness alone, is the true seer. He who perceives everywhere—in the boundless sky, in all directions, in time, in action, and in all things—that “I alone am,” is the true seer. He who perceives the subtle ‘I’ pervading all, imagined in countless ways, even in the tip of a hair, truly sees. He who perceives inwardly the infinite self—omnipresent in every state—as nondual consciousness, truly sees. But one who, afflicted by ailments, fears, distress, and subject to old age, death, and birth, identifies as the body, does not see wisely. He who perceives my greatness as pervading across, above, and below, knowing there is no second to me, truly sees. The one who sees all this strung in me, as gems are strung on a thread, and knows I alone am the inner consciousness, truly sees. He who perceives that neither I nor anything else exists here, that only Brahman is, and nothing else, and thus sees the middle between existence and nonexistence—he truly sees. Whatever name or thing exists in the three worlds is but a single aspect of myself, like a wave in the ocean; whoever perceives this within, truly perceives. For the great soul whose sense of self and other, of yours and mine, has ceased with the end of mental constructs, true vision arises. This world is to be pitied, protected, and regarded as one’s own—like a younger sister; whoever clearly sees the frailty of the three worlds, truly perceives. Whoever perceives the body as devoid of objectivity, composed of the wonder of pure consciousness, and filled with the web of the universe, truly perceives. Pleasure, pain, existence, nonexistence, and all distinctions—whoever sees these as “I am not this” or “I am this,” is never diminished. In a world pervaded only by one’s own being, with no sense of otherness, whoever sees, “What is there to reject or accept?”—such a one is wise. To whom all this is nothing but pure being, beyond reasoning and appearance, and whose calculations of acceptance and rejection are ended—I bow to that one. He who, like space, is of one essence, present in all states, yet remains uncolored by any state—such a great soul is the supreme lord. Freed from the notions of darkness and light, having attained the essence of time, serene, balanced, and healthy—I honor that state which has been reached. In whose rising and setting, in whose diverse and beautiful manifestations within the world, activity remains equally poised, single-pointed, and boundless—to that supreme knower, to Shiva, I offer my salutations.