As long as the inner radiance of consciousness remains hidden behind the thick cloud of ego, it does not blossom—just as the night-lotus stays closed in darkness. When the sense of “I am” is truly erased, there is no longer any room for the mind’s craving—whether for hell, for heaven, for liberation, or for anything at all. Yet, as long as the cloud of ego grows within the heart, desires continue to sprout and unfold, just like the buds of the kuṭaja flower. This ego-cloud, when it stands before the sun of awareness, blocks all light, leaving only dullness and obscurity in its wake. Ego, though it feels so near, is only a mistaken idea, and brings nothing but suffering—like a fever that confuses a child, it never bestows joy. Born of vain conception, ego gives rise to delusion and endless cycles of worldly existence, just as restraints bind those who are misguided. The notion “This is me” springs from a deep delusion, a darkness that causes misfortune in the world—yet, in truth, it neither exists nor will it ever truly exist. All the pleasure and pain one experiences here are like the swirling of a firebrand in the dark—merely the play and turning of the wheel of ego. Once the painful seed of ego takes root in the heart, it grows into a vast forest of worldly existence, with countless branches that are hard to cut down. The first sprout of the endless tree of births is the sense of “I,” whose myriad branches spread as thoughts of “this is mine.” The objects of the world, stirred by latent impressions, arise like the crackling of dry wood in the wind, or the endless clamor of waves. But you, who are free from the sense of “I,” should restrain the wheel of worldly existence within yourself, for its great hub is the sense of “I.” As long as the darkness of ego spreads within the human heart, anxious thoughts—like wild goblins—dance about, intoxicated and restless. A person seized by the goblin of ego is truly wretched; no ritual or mantra can bring peace to such a helpless one. When the pure Self abides as clear consciousness, like a spotless mirror, the reflection of ego may appear in it; but then, what can truly be said of the person? This marvel of ego is not the true nature of reality, O Raghava; it is a phenomenon conjured by latent tendencies, and it ceases through sincere effort. By contemplating, “I am not, nor is there any wealth, pleasure, or pain that is mine,” the sense of ego does not arise. By reflecting, “This splendor of illusion is false—what have I to do with attachment or aversion?” the sense of ego does not arise. By calmly understanding, “I am not in the self, nor in the visible splendor of this world,” the ego does not increase. When, within, the notions of “I” and “world” are dissolved, and equanimity shines forth, the ego does not function. But what is the nature of ego, and how is it abandoned, O Lord? When it is given up, with or without the body, what remains? O Raghava, know that there are three kinds of ego in the three worlds; two are excellent, and one must be abandoned—listen as I explain. The highest form of ego is the awareness, “I am all this universe; I am the supreme Self, the imperishable; there is nothing else.” This is for liberation, not for bondage, and is found in those liberated while living; even the term “ego” here is only used conventionally. The second form is the awareness, “I am entirely distinct from everything, finer than the hundredth part of a hair,” or else, the sense of being the supreme. This too is for liberation, not for bondage; for the one liberated while living, it remains, though its designation as ego is imagined, not real. The third form is simply the conviction, “I am only these hands, feet, and so on.” This is the worldly and insignificant ego. This harmful ego must be abandoned, for it is remembered as the enemy of others; when struck by it, a person does not flourish again. This powerful foe, which grants various dominions, diminishes the mind of the world and leads only to difficulty. When this harmful ego is long abandoned from one’s being, the creature who retains only the other forms of ego attains liberation, O Blessed One. For those caught in worldly ego, the idea “I am this body” should be rejected; the great ones hold the view, “I am not the body.” The first two forms of ego, though accepted, are unworldly; the third form, which is worldly and brings suffering, should be abandoned. By this difficult egoity, the chains of bondage are forged; even hearing tales of such a state brings suffering. Abandoning this third, worldly egoity from the mind, O Brahman, brings great benefit to a person. This, therefore, must be completely abandoned; by giving up this bringer of sorrow, the more one stands apart, the more one attains the supreme. If one contemplates these higher states of egoity and remains steadfast, the sinless person attains the supreme state. But if one abandons even these, remaining entirely free from all egoity, one ascends to the highest state. At all times and with every effort, the wise must renounce the difficult, worldly egoity for the sake of supreme bliss and knowledge. There is nothing higher than abandoning the evil egoity rooted in the body, disease, and demerit; this alone is the supreme state. Having let go of this gross, worldly egoity in thought, whether remaining still or engaging in action, a person does not fall downward.