Listen, dear one, to the wondrous vision of this world as revealed in the sacred teaching. Imagine a realm adorned with extraordinary pools—some filled with the sweet juice of sugarcane, others with pure milk, some glimmering with precious gems and jewels, and others blossoming with lotus sprouts and lotuses. There are even pools aglow with the mysterious submarine fire and those reflecting the vastness of the seven great oceans. Above, in the sky, and below, upon the earth, dwell the forces of virtue and vice, wealth and splendor. Here, in this world, the commerce of buying and selling takes place—not only among humans, but among gods and yakshas as well. Within this very city of existence, the sovereign power of imagination has fashioned marvelous bodily coverings, all for the sake of his own divine play. Some beings, bearing the names of celestials, are stationed in the higher realms; others, such as humans and serpents, find their place below. Animated by the movement of the winds, these bodies of flesh and clay wander about. Some are adorned with white bones and wood, their surfaces smeared with skin—sometimes smooth, sometimes unclean. Some of these bodies last a long time before perishing; others are destroyed swiftly. Their coverings are fashioned with shining, dark, or pale hues, each unique. Every body is endowed with nine doors—ears, eyes, nose among them—through which the vital wind constantly flows, making the body feel hot or cold. These forms are equipped with groups of air-windows—ears, nose, mouth, palate—and limbs like arms, serving as passageways. Five radiant lamps, the senses, are set within, allowing perception of the world. Yet, within these bodies, by the power of illusion and imagination, great goblins of ego are conjured—so fearsome that even the supreme light is daunted. Inside these bodily coverings, the self, accompanied by these goblins of ego, indulges excessively in what is unreal, all arising from unreality. The sense of “I” dwells in the body like a cat hidden in a granary, a snake coiled within a bellows, or a pearl nestled in bamboo. Thoughts arise and fade within the house of the body like a lamp that flares up for a moment before subsiding, or like waves in the ocean. At times, even a city yet to be built appears vividly in the mind, as if already present. But as soon as imagination ceases, its creation vanishes instantly. For one’s highest good, it is right to bring about the destruction of these imaginings, not their continuation. All these arise solely from one’s own imagination, like a child’s invented demon, bringing endless suffering and never happiness. This vast world of sorrow is projected by the reality of the self; yet, by unreality, it is destroyed in an instant, just as darkness vanishes when blindness descends. By its own painful activity, the mind laments, like a monkey whose testicles are caught on a peg, struggling desperately to break free. A single 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 constantly changes, like a foolish child, as imagination arises and subsides. The wise, carefully purifying this mind and freeing it from all objects, attain the supreme state. My child, do likewise. This mind has three bodies: superior, inferior, and middling—known as darkness, purity, and activity. These are the causes of the world’s existence. Imagination rooted in darkness acts instinctively, leading to great misery and a fall into 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 bound in the cycle of birth and death, attached to children and spouse. But, O wise one, when these three forms are abandoned and the self is examined, imagination reaches the supreme state. By relinquishing all perceptions and restraining the mind by the mind itself, bring about the cessation of imagination concerning both external and internal objects. No matter how severe the austerities you perform—even if for a thousand years—or if you crush your own body to powder with a stone in play, or 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 compassionate lord of the world 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. In the beginningless, changeless, supremely pure happiness, make the highest effort, with your own strength, for the cessation of imagination. All phenomena, O sinless one, are strung on the thread of imagination; when that thread is broken, who can say where those waves of phenomena go? All that is unreal, real, and both real and unreal arises only from imagination, never otherwise. Since both the real and unreal come from imagination, what truth can be said to exist here? Whatever is imagined, just so does it become in an instant. Therefore, knower of truth, never imagine anything at all. Be free of mental constructs, act as situations arise; for when mental constructs are dissolved, consciousness turns toward its own pure nature, beyond all objects. By rising up in the form of unreality, that which is of the nature of unreality has spread out as this world—sorrowful, futile, and similar to oneself. O sinless one, why would anyone resort to that which brings great sorrow? The wise seek only that which is free from sorrow, never the opposite. Having attained the highest reality, forcefully casting aside the net of conceptualization, realize that nondual state whose happiness is all-pervading, with the mind resting as in deep sleep. Then, the disciple asked: “Father, what is this mental construct like? How does it arise, O Lord? How does it grow, and how does it come to an end?” The reply came: “That inclination of consciousness toward objects, within the infinite reality of the Self, which is pure existence itself—this is known as the sprout of mental construct.