O Rama, if you have truly examined these teachings with a mind purified by right knowledge and with skillful discernment, then you must see: mental constructions and imaginings have no place when it comes to the true nature of things. Just as one does not imagine shapes in the spinning circle of a firebrand, or confuse a dream for waking reality, or mistake a delusion for truth, so too is imagination unfitting when perceiving the world. A being who appears suddenly is not fit for genuine friendship, nor is one who is entangled in the world’s web—a web woven of illusion. Just as you would not rely on the heat of the moon, the coolness of the sun, or water in a mirage, so too should you not place your trust in the reality of worldly existence. See this world as you see the people in your thoughts, the characters of your dreams, or the confusion of seeing two moons in the sky—a creation of imagination and nothing more. Abandon all inner attachment, which is born from the splendor of imagination, and simply be who you are in this world, O sinless one. Move freely, unbound. For the self that is established in non-doership, even actions performed do not bind. Such a one abides in all states, transcending them, untouched by doership or agency. Actions arise merely by proximity, as illumination appears with the presence of a lamp. In the same way, the three worlds exist by the mere presence of the self, just as jasmine flowers bloom when clouds are near. The sun, though it has no desire, remains in the sky, and yet its presence brings forth the glory of activity. So too, by the mere being of the divine, action takes place. Radiance arises from a jewel simply because it is there; likewise, the multitude of worlds exists by the being of the divine alone. Thus, both doership and non-doership are established in the self. It is non-desirous, and so a non-doer; yet by its very presence, it is also the doer. Beyond the senses, the self is neither doer nor enjoyer nor the cause of beings. But when associated with the senses, it alone appears as the doer and enjoyer. O sinless one, only two states exist in the self: doership and non-doership. Whichever you recognize as leading to the highest good, take refuge in that and remain steadfast. If you are firmly convinced, “I am the non-doer everywhere,” then even when actions arise due to circumstances, you remain untouched. Even when desires for enjoyment arise, they lose their taste for one whose mind does not engage with them, grounded in the awareness of non-doership. Where there is the firm understanding, “Here I do nothing at all,” who then would pursue or abandon the multitude of enjoyments? Therefore, always contemplate, “I am the non-doer.” In this way, only supreme equanimity remains—the nectar of immortality. But if you wish, O Rama, to abide in the state of “I do everything,” seeing yourself as the great doer, know that as the highest as well. For when you perceive yourself as performing this entire illusory world, how can there be attraction or aversion for another, since no one else truly exists? When your body is burned by one and cherished by another, both are your own doing—so what order can there be in pain and pleasure? In the rising and falling of happiness and sorrow, in the creation and dissolution of the world’s web, even when thinking “I am the doer,” what order is there in pain and pleasure within? When the play of fatigue and delight—born of the sense of agency—subsides by itself, only equanimity remains. That equanimity toward all things is the true, supreme state. When the mind abides in it, suffering ceases. Or, Rāghava, renounce all notions of agency and non-agency. Abandon everything, absorb the mind, and remain firm in your true nature. The vision that clings to distinctions—“This is me, this is not me; I do this, I do not do this”—cannot bring satisfaction. The notion “I am the body” is the path of time’s snare, the wave that entangles, the perilous forest. This notion must be abandoned with every effort, even when all else is destroyed. It should not be touched, like impure flesh by an outcaste. When that notion is cast away, like a crimson streak in one’s vision, supreme insight arises—like moonlight shining forth when the clouds have cleared. Knowing clearly within, “I am not the agent, nor am I this or that,” or having resolved, “I am the agent, I am all this,” or “I am someone, I am no one,”—stand in your highest state, as the wise and the best sages abide in their own true place. At this, Rama responded, “O Brahman, what you have spoken is indeed true and beautifully expressed. The self is truly the non-doer and yet the doer, the enjoyer and yet the non-enjoyer, the sustainer of all beings. He is the lord of all, pervading everything, pure consciousness alone, the spotless state—the divine one whose own experience is his form, dwelling within all beings. O Lord, your words have entered my heart like cool streams refreshing the earth. Because of indifference and lack of desire, he neither enjoys nor acts; yet, as the cause of the entire world, the divine one both enjoys and acts. But, O Lord, a strong doubt remains in my heart. Please dispel it with your words, as sunlight and moonlight dispel darkness. This is real, and this is unreal; this is ‘I,’ and this is ‘you’; this is one, and this is another—such endless distinctions arise. In the one, all-pervading, peaceful reality, like mist in the sun, how does the first notion of ‘this’ become established in the self?” The sage replied, “At the proper time, O Rama, I will explain the answer to this profound question, and you shall know it then. O Raghava, when you have attained the essential understanding of the means to liberation, you will be truly fit to hear these questions and answers. Just as a young man is suited to the sweet songs of his beloved, so too is one with awakened vision suited to the highest answers to profound questions, O Rama.