In the journey of yoga, the seeker comes to understand that experience itself arises from the inability to distinguish between pure consciousness—the puruṣa—and sattva, the most refined aspect of nature. Though these two are entirely distinct, confusion persists until, through deep meditative absorption known as samyama on one’s own purpose, the knowledge of the puruṣa shines forth. From this realization, extraordinary abilities awaken: intuitive hearing, touch, sight, taste, and smell. Yet, these powers, though remarkable, are obstacles on the path to samādhi, the ultimate absorption. In the outward-turned state, they are celebrated as powers, but for one seeking union, they are distractions. The yogi learns that by loosening the causes of bondage and by understanding the movements of the mind, it is possible to enter another’s body. Mastery over the vital force called udāna grants freedom from contact with water, mud, thorns, and similar obstacles, as well as the ability to ascend at will. Mastery over samāna, another vital force, kindles the inner fire. Through focused meditation on the relationship between the ear and space, divine hearing arises. By contemplating the connection between the body and space, and by cultivating lightness like cotton, the yogi moves through space unhindered. When the external, unconstructed activity known as great disembodiment occurs, the covering of light is destroyed, revealing deeper truths. By meditating on the qualities of the elements—their grossness, essential nature, subtlety, conjunction, and purpose—mastery over the elements is attained. From this mastery, the yogi gains the ability to become minute or vast, achieves perfection of the body, and becomes invulnerable to the qualities of the elements. The perfected body radiates beauty, grace, strength, and diamond-like firmness. Samyama on the process of perception, the essential nature of the senses, individuality, conjunction, and purpose brings mastery over the senses. This grants speed of mind, independence from the senses, and mastery over primordial matter. For one who knows the distinction between sattva and puruṣa, lordship over all states and omniscience become possible. Yet, even these powers must be met with dispassion. When the seeds of impurity are destroyed, isolation—kaivalya—arises. If beings from higher realms invite the yogi, attachment and pride must be avoided, for undesirable consequences may follow. By meditating on the moment and its sequence, knowledge born of discernment arises. From the absence of indistinguishability—due to species, characteristics, and location—knowledge of the difference between similar things is gained. This knowledge born of discernment is liberating, all-encompassing, beyond all objects, and without sequence. When purity between sattva and puruṣa is equal, isolation—kaivalya—is attained. Perfections, or siddhis, arise in various ways: by birth, through herbs, mantra, austerity, or samādhi. Transformation into another kind occurs due to the overflow of nature. The cause itself does not initiate the transformations of nature; rather, the removal of obstacles does, just as a farmer clears the way for water to flow. Created minds arise solely from the sense of individuality. Among many minds with different activities, one mind is the instigator. Of these, the mind born of meditation is free from latent impressions. For yogis, karma is neither white nor black; for others, it is threefold. Only the impressions corresponding to the results manifest. Because memory and latent impressions are of one form, succession exists even for those separated by birth, place, or time. Their beginninglessness is due to the eternity of desire. Held together by cause, result, support, and object, they cease when these are absent. The past and future exist in their own forms, because of the difference in the paths of properties. These properties, whether manifest or subtle, are of the nature of the qualities. Because of the unity of transformation, the reality of the object is established. Even if two observers contemplate the same object, their paths are separate because of the difference in their minds. Nor is the object dependent on a single mind; if it were not validated, what would it be then? Because the object depends on the coloring of the mind, it may be known or unknown. The modifications of the mind are always known to the master of that mind, for the puruṣa does not change. The mind itself does not illuminate itself, for it is an object of perception. Thus unfolds the subtle, wondrous journey of yoga, where the seeker moves from confusion to clarity, from power to dispassion, and ultimately to the freedom of pure consciousness.