As the journey of yoga deepens, the seeker comes to a profound stage: when the purity of the sattva—the highest aspect of nature—equals that of the puruṣa, the pure consciousness, true isolation or kaivalya is attained. This is liberation, the state where consciousness stands alone, untouched by the movements of nature. Along the path, many perfections, known as siddhis, may arise. These extraordinary powers are born not just from practice, but also from birth, the use of special herbs, recitation of mantras, austerity, or the absorption of samādhi. Yet, transformation into another kind of being happens only when nature overflows—its own power brings forth change. The causes themselves do not directly initiate these transformations; rather, it is the removal of obstacles that allows nature to unfold, just as a farmer clears the field so that crops may grow. Minds that are created spring solely from the sense of individuality, and among the many minds, each engaged in its own activity, there is always one that is the instigator. Of these, the mind born of meditation is unique—it is free from latent impressions. For yogis, karma—the force of action—is neither white nor black; it transcends the ordinary categories. For others, karma is threefold, manifesting as good, bad, or mixed. Only those impressions that correspond to the results actually manifest. Because memory and latent impressions share a single form, succession continues even for those separated by birth, place, or time. Their beginninglessness is rooted in the eternal nature of desire. These impressions are held together by cause, result, support, and object. When these are absent, the impressions cease. The past and future exist in their own forms, because the paths of properties differ. Whether manifest or subtle, all things are of the nature of the qualities—of the gunas. The unity of transformation establishes the reality of the object. Yet, because minds differ, even if two observers look upon the same object, their paths are separate. The object itself is not dependent on any single mind; if it were not so, what would it be if no mind validated it? The object is known or unknown, depending on how the mind is colored. The modifications of the mind are always known to its master, the puruṣa, for puruṣa itself does not change. The mind cannot illuminate itself, for it is always an object of perception. At any one moment, both the mind and its modifications cannot be apprehended together. If one mind were to perceive another mind, intellects would proliferate and memories would become confused. Because consciousness does not move between minds, when it takes on a certain form, it is aware only of its own intellect. The mind, colored by both the seer and the seen, is capable of all experiences. Though it is variegated by countless latent impressions, the mind acts for another, for it is constructed as an aggregate. But for one who sees with true discernment, the tendency to imagine a self within the mind ceases. Then, the mind inclines toward discrimination and is drawn toward liberation. Even so, in the gaps, other impressions may arise from latent tendencies. Their removal is described as with the afflictions. For one who is utterly non-attached, even to discriminative knowledge, there arises the samādhi called ‘cloud of dharma.’ From this, the afflictions and actions cease. Then, knowledge becomes infinite, all impurities and coverings are removed, and what remains to be known is very little. From this state, the sequence of transformations of the gunas, having fulfilled their purpose, comes to completion. Sequence itself is discernible as the succession of moments and the end of transformations. Liberation is the return of the gunas to their source, having no further purpose for the puruṣa, or the abiding of consciousness in its own true nature. Here, the journey ends, and the yogi rests in the freedom and purity of kaivalya.