The seeker, troubled by the contradictions he perceives in teachings about creation and its destination, approaches his revered teacher. “Where does creation occur?” he asks. “Where will it end? Your words seem to contradict themselves, leading only to confusion.” With gentle patience, the teacher replies, “Listen, my son, and I will reveal to you the true nature of this cycle of worldly existence, so you may grasp its essence.” He begins, “This world—its entire structure—arises from what is unreal, spreading out as something insubstantial. I have described it thus: the supreme, which gives rise to all, emerges from space itself. Intention, called the self-arisen, is born by its own nature and dissolves by itself. The entire world appears as its own form; when that arises, the world arises, and when it ceases, the world perishes. “Brahma, Vishnu, Indra, Rudra, and all other deities are but limbs of this supreme, like branches to a tree or peaks to a mountain. In the vast, empty sky, this threefold city of worlds is fashioned by that supreme, attaining the role of Creator merely through the unfolding of appearances. “Here, within this creation, are all the worlds and the fourteen cosmic spheres. Here are forests, groves, and an endless succession of gardens. The playful mountain peaks—Sahya, Mandara, Meru—are found here; so too are the cool and hot radiances, the moon and sun, and the two lamps, wind and fire. “Rivers here carry pearls, rising high like the moving crests of waves stirred by the sun’s rays, and there are shifting garlands of genuine pearls. Pools brim with waters of sugarcane juice, milk, and more; they hold gems, jewels, lotus sprouts, submarine fires, lotuses, and the seven great oceans. “Below on earth and above in the sky dwell virtue, vice, wealth, and splendor. Here, buying and selling occur among humans, gods, and yakshas. In this very world, in this city, the sovereign of imagination has created wondrous bodily coverings for his own playful purposes. “Some beings, bearing the names of celestials, are stationed above; others, such as humans and serpents, are placed below. Driven by the mechanism of wind, these bodies of flesh and clay move about; some are adorned with white bones and wood, smeared with skin—smooth or unclean. “Some of these bodies perish after a long time, others are quickly destroyed. Their coverings are fashioned with shining, dark, or pale hues. They possess nine doors—ears, eyes, nose, and more—and are made hot or cold by the ceaseless movement of the vital winds. “Fitted with groups of air-windows—ears, nose, mouth, palate—with limbs like arms and passageways, and with the five lamps of the senses, these bodies are intricate creations. Within them, by the power of illusion and imagination, O wise one, the great goblins of ego are fashioned—fearsome even to the supreme light. “Inside these bodily coverings, with those goblins of ego, he plays excessively with what is unreal, arising from the unreal. Just as a cat hides in a granary, a snake in a bellows, or a pearl in a bamboo, so is the sense of ‘I’ within the body. “Like a lamp that flares up for a moment and then subsides, so do thoughts arise and fade within the house of the body, like waves in the ocean. Even the city yet to be built appears at the time when one perceives the imagined object as if it were already present. “By merely ceasing to imagine, the world quickly disappears by itself. For your highest good, its destruction is proper, not its continuation. All arises solely from one’s own imagination, like a child’s demon, bringing endless suffering—never happiness. “This vast world of sorrow is projected by the reality of the self, but by unreality, it is destroyed in an instant, like darkness vanishing with blindness. By its own painful activity, it laments, like a monkey whose testicles are caught on a peg, struggling to break free. “A drop of imagined happiness remains, its neck held high, like an elephant savoring a sudden drop of honey fallen from the sky. The mind itself turns to dispassion for a moment, then to attachment for a moment; it changes constantly—like a foolish child, imagination arises and subsides. “But wise ones, having made the mind pure and free from all objects with care, have attained the supreme state. My son, do likewise. “This mind has three bodies: superior, inferior, and middling—known as darkness, purity, and activity. These are the cause of the world’s existence. Imagination of the nature of darkness acts instinctively, falling into extreme misery and descending to the state of worms and insects. Imagination of purity is devoted to righteousness and knowledge, attaining near-liberation and sovereignty. Imagination of activity is engaged in worldly dealings, remaining in the cycle of birth and death, attached to children and spouse. “But, O wise one, by abandoning these three forms, imagination reaches the supreme state when the self is examined. By abandoning all perceptions and restraining the mind by the mind, bring about the cessation of imagination concerning both external and internal objects. “Even if you perform severe austerities for a thousand years, or crush your body to powder with a stone in play; even if you enter the ocean or the submarine fire, or fall into a deep chasm or upon a bed of sword-edges; even if Shiva, Vishnu, Brahma, the lord of speech, or the lord of the world overwhelmed with supreme compassion is your teacher; whether you are in the netherworld, on earth, or in heaven—there is no other means for you except the cessation of imagination.” Thus, the teacher reveals the profound truth: the world and its sorrows, its joys and forms, all arise from imagination. Only by ceasing this imagination, by examining the self and purifying the mind, does one reach the supreme state. All else—rituals, austerities, even the guidance of the greatest gods—cannot grant liberation. The cessation of imagination is the only path.