A painter, asks Maharaj about the value of his profession from a spiritual standpoint. Maharaj starts by asking what the painter thinks about while he paints, to which the painter replies that when he paints, there is only the painting and himself. Maharaj then asks the painter what he is doing there, to which the painter says he is painting.

Maharaj disagrees and states that the painter is only watching the painting happen and that everything else is occurring. The painter then wonders if the picture is painting itself, or if there is a deeper “me” or some god who is painting. Maharaj says that consciousness itself is the greatest painter and that the whole world is a picture.

When asked who painted the picture of the world, Maharaj responds that the painter is in the picture. The painter is in the mind of the painter, and the painter is in the picture. The painter and the picture have an infinity of states and dimensions, and it is like standing between two mirrors and wondering at the crowd. Maharaj agrees with the painter and adds that the painter and the double mirror are the only ones present, and between the two, their forms and names are countless.

The conversation then turns to how Maharaj sees the world. He states that he sees a painter painting a picture. The picture he calls the world, and the painter he calls God. Maharaj claims he is neither the painter nor the picture, but he contains all, and nothing contains him.

The painter then questions why, when he sees a tree, a face, or a sunset, the picture is perfect, but when he closes his eyes, the image in his mind is faint and hazy. He wonders if his mind projects the picture, why he needs to open his eyes to see a lovely flower and see it vaguely with his eyes closed.

Maharaj replies that it is because the outer eyes are better than the inner eyes, and the mind is all turned outward. Maharaj suggests that as the painter learns to watch his mental world, he will find it more colorful and perfect than what the body can provide, although some training may be necessary.

The painter argues that he imagines the picture must come from the painter who actually painted it, and he is always looking for origins and causes. Maharaj responds that causality is in the mind only, and memory gives the illusion of continuity. Repetitiveness creates the idea of causality, but a habit is not a necessity.

The painter reminds Maharaj that he previously said that the world is made by God. Maharaj clarifies that language is an instrument of the mind, made by the mind, for the mind. Once one admits a cause, then God is the ultimate cause, and the world is the effect. They are different, but not separate.

The painter inquires about people who claim to see God. Maharaj responds that when one sees the world, one sees God. There is no seeing God apart from the world. Beyond the world, to see God is to be God. The light by which one sees the world, which is God, is the tiny little spark of “I am,” apparently so small, yet the first and the last in every act of knowing and loving.

The painter asks if he must see the world to see God. Maharaj responds, “How else? No world, no God.” The painter then asks what remains if there is no world and no God. Maharaj answers that a pure being remains. The painter wonders if a pure being is the same as the Great Expanse. Maharaj says that one may call it so, but words do not matter, for they do not reach it. They turn back in utter negation.