Objects in this world arise from the subtle stirrings of past impressions, much like the crackling of dry wood caught in a restless wind, or the tumult of waves rising one after another. These fleeting phenomena seem so real, yet their origin is but the movement of latent tendencies within. You, who are free from the binding sense of “I,” are urged to restrain the relentless turning of the wheel of worldly existence, whose great hub is none other than the sense of ego itself. As long as the darkness of ego spreads throughout the forest of human life, anxious thoughts—like mischievous goblins—dance wildly, intoxicated by their own delusions. The wretched person seized by this goblin of ego finds no peace, for neither rituals nor mantras can bring solace to one so helplessly ensnared. When the pure Self abides as consciousness, clear and spotless like a flawless mirror, only the reflection of ego appears within it; what, then, can truly be said of the person who identifies with this mere reflection? O Raghava, the marvel of ego is not the true nature of reality. Rather, it is a phenomenon conjured by latent tendencies, destined to cease through earnest 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 inwardly reflecting, “This splendor of illusion is false—what concern have I with attachment or aversion?” the ego remains absent. 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 ceases to function. But what is the nature of ego, and how is it abandoned, O Lord? And when it is given up—whether with or without the body—what remains? Listen, O Raghava, for there are three kinds of ego found in the three worlds. Two are excellent, and the third must be abandoned. The first, 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 the ego of liberation, not of bondage, and is found in those who are liberated while living. Even the term “ego” here is only a convention, not a reality. The second form is the awareness: “I am entirely distinct from everything, subtler than the hundredth part of a hair.” This too is for liberation, not for bondage, and exists for the one liberated while living. Its designation as ego is imagined, not actual. The third form is merely the conviction, “I am only hands, feet, and so on”—the sense of identification with the body. This is the worldly and insignificant ego. This harmful ego must be abandoned, for it is known as the enemy of all. When struck by it, a being does not flourish again. By this powerful enemy, which bestows various dominions, the mind of the world is diminished and sinks into difficulties. When this harmful ego is long abandoned from one’s being, the creature who retains only the remaining subtle ego attains liberation, O Blessed One. For those shaped by the fault of worldly ego, the idea “I am this body” should be rejected; the view “I am not the body” is held by the great. The first two forms of ego, though accepted, are unworldly; the third, which is worldly and brings suffering, must be abandoned. By this difficult egoity, the chains of bondage are forged, and even tales of those who fall into it are full of suffering. O Brahman, if one abandons this third, worldly form of egoity from the mind, what benefit does a person attain for himself? This must be completely abandoned, for by giving up this bringer of sorrow, the more one stands apart, the more one attains the supreme. If one contemplates these previously mentioned states of egoity and remains steadfast, the sinless person attains the supreme state. But if one abandons even these subtle forms, 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 abandoned this gross, worldly egoity in thought, whether remaining still or engaging in action, a person does not fall downward. O wise one, for a being whose sense of ego has become completely pacified, the diseases of enjoyment no longer taste sweet, just as flavors laced with poison do not appeal to one who is fully satisfied. When a person no longer finds pleasure in enjoyments, true welfare lies ahead; when darkness is dispelled, what else could the mind pursue? O Raghava, by simply abandoning the pursuit of ego and through the singular effort of one’s own resolve, one crosses the ocean of worldly existence. By thinking, “I am not; nothing is mine; nothing at all exists apart from me; all is truly myself,” and establishing this awareness firmly in the mind, the great soul attains the supreme state. Now, O listener, hear what happened in the city of Shambara, which rose like a mountain, after Dama and the others had departed. Just as the sky is emptied when all clouds are scattered in autumn, so too, when Shambara’s forces were destroyed and all order was lost, devastation prevailed. Having had his army defeated by the gods, that demon spent a few years in retreat. Then, intent once more on slaying the gods, he began to reflect: “Those demons like Dama and the rest, whom I created by my own illusion, were foolishly considered real by me; in battle, this inner sense of ego was falsely imagined. Now I create other demons, brought forth by illusion; then I make them knowledgeable in the science of the Self, endowed with discernment. Then, having realized the truth and arisen from false imagination, they will not embrace egoism, and will overcome those gods.