From the infinite and unchanging Brahman, all worlds emerge, just as waves rise from the ocean. These worlds, after abiding for a time, eventually dissolve back into Brahman, always absorbed in their source, much like the waves that, though distinct for a moment, are never separate from the ocean itself. This Brahman alone stands established, untouched by notions of impurity or purity. Just as dust does not arise from the waves in water, so too, in Brahman, there is neither stain nor blemish. There is no second reality here, O descendant of Raghu; apart from Brahman, nothing exists, just as, apart from fire, there is only its heat. Brahman is free from suffering and attributes, while this world, which arises from Brahman, is marked by suffering. O Brahman, I do not yet grasp the full meaning of your words, which seem unclear to me. When Rama spoke thus, the sage Vasistha, foremost among sages and a lion among men, began to reflect silently on how best to guide the descendant of Raghu. He saw that Rama’s mind had expanded greatly, yet had not attained complete purity; it had become clearer, but still recoiled from the reality before him. Rama’s mind was well-developed, he had learned what was to be known, and he was wise—having reached the far shore of the teachings on liberation through discernment. No one has any real fault, nor is there ignorance in the Self, O Raghava. Yet until these truths are spoken and understood, the mind does not find rest. For one whose understanding is only half-developed, it is not fitting to speak in such a manner; if he contemplates enjoyment with this outlook, he is lost. But for one who has attained the supreme vision, desire for enjoyment does not arise; at the time of final realization, it is proper for Rama to hold that all is Brahman. In the beginning, the disciple’s mind should be purified by qualities such as tranquility and self-control. Only afterwards should he be instructed that all this is Brahman, and that he is himself pure. If someone, still ignorant and only half-awakened, asserts that all is Brahman, he falls into the net of great suffering. But for one whose intellect is awakened, whose desires are exhausted, and who is free from expectations, it is appropriate for such a great soul to declare, “There is no impurity of ignorance.” Having considered all this, the blessed Vasistha, remover of ignorance and illuminator of the world, spoke: “Raghava, the question of stain in Brahman—whether it exists or not—should be addressed only at the time of final realization. You will know it yourself, O sinless one.” The one who truly knows this never strays from equanimity, even when touched by smiling, wonder, delusion, joy, or anger. When illumination exists, it is like a lamp; when the day exists, it is like the sun; when fragrance exists, it is like the flower. In the same way, this world arises spontaneously. It is merely an appearance, or perhaps only seems to be seen; like the movement of the wind, it is neither truly existent nor non-existent, but remains as if in between. Whatever is not of the nature of the Self perishes here; but how could that which is of the nature of the Self ever perish? Having cut through the poisonous tree of worldly existence—whose form is adorned with buds of hope, shaken by the fierce serpents of suffering, blossoming with pleasures, flowered with the blossoms of old age, and shining with the creeper of craving—having broken the chains of the self with the sword of discernment, you are liberated and may roam freely, like an elephant released from its post. Rama then asked, “How do these living beings arise from the state of Brahman? What is their extent and nature? Please explain this in detail, O Lord. How do the various kinds of beings arise from Brahman? How do they come to destruction, and how do they attain liberation? How do they grow, how do they remain, and how do they become hidden?” Vasistha replied, “Listen, O mighty-armed one, I will explain this to you step by step. The pure Brahmanic power of consciousness, by its own will, creates. Being the source of all powers, it is itself knowable and becomes the very nature of creation. When imagination becomes dense, whatever it conceives by itself, that afterwards attains the status of reality in the realm of the mind. By mere intention of the mind, in an instant, like a city of the Gandharvas, this unreal appearance is produced, abandoning the divine vision. What remains is the essential nature of consciousness, perfectly empty; whatever is seen as existing is, for us, only like space. Having formed the intention of the lotus-born, one sees the form of the lotus-born; then, one imagines the world, beginning with one’s own progenitor. In this way, O Rama, this knowledge, accompanied by the humming of the countless fourteenfold classes of beings, has arisen as a creation of the mind. It is made only of mind, empty, with space alone as its body—a city made only of imagination, existing solely as delusion and unreality. Among beings, some lineages remain in great delusion, some have awakened to knowledge, and some indeed stumble in between. Among all these classes of beings on earth, those human lineages who are awakening are fit to receive instruction. There are many afflictions, full of suffering, for they are tormented by aversion and fear; among them, I will now explain the one that is of the nature of both rajas and sattva. That which is immortal, Brahman, all-pervading and free from affliction, appearing as consciousness, is called the Infinite—beginningless and free from delusion. Of that which has the form of stillness, a portion, by the presence of movement, takes on density, O gentle one, just as in the ocean, due to motion, a whirlpool is formed. Yet, who can truly speak of a part of the infinite essence of the Self? How could there be modification, or any sequence of components, in That? Thus, statements such as ‘this is born from that, and that from this’ are made only for the sake of discourse and scriptural convention, O Rama, not in the ultimate sense. Ideas such as modification, composite structure, sequence, and so on, though they appear to arise, do not truly exist in the Supreme. Apart from That, all else is mere imagination; it neither exists nor will exist. Therefore, the meanings of words like ‘sequence’ are only for conventional usage. Whatever conception, object, word, or group of attributes exists here—because it arises from That and is pervaded by That—it is considered to be That alone.