Just as, supported by the seed, the tree is born and bears pleasant fruit, so in Brahman saṃsāra is born and bears pleasant fruit.

The analogy of the seed and the tree is traditionally used to illustrate causality (kārya-kāraṇa), but here it takes an unexpected turn: saṃsāra arises in Brahman “and yields a pleasant fruit” (sukhaṃ phalam). This is not an apology for saṃsāra, but rather an observation that, seen from the perspective of Brahman, everything—even saṃsāra—is a manifestation of ānanda.

The seed loses nothing by becoming a tree; the tree is not a degradation of the seed but an unfolding of its potential. In the same way, saṃsāra is not a degradation of Brahman but an unfolding of its infinite potential. Suffering is not inherent to the unfolding; it is an erroneous interpretation of the unfolding. Just as a tree provides shade and fruit, so does saṃsāra yield experience and knowledge—both are pleasant when seen from the non-dual perspective.

“Samāśritya”—resting upon—is the key verb. The tree does not exist independently of the seed; saṃsāra does not exist independently of Brahman. This support is ontological, not temporal. It is not that Brahman exists first and saṃsāra arises later; rather, saṃsāra is always supported by Brahman, just as the tree is supported by the seed. The Haṭha Pradīpikā (IV.54) describes samādhi as “bīja-samādhi”—seed-samādhi—where the saṃskāras remain latent like seeds. The seed is not an obstacle; it is potential. The yogī in samādhi does not destroy the seeds; they are rendered inoperative for lack of conditions.

The analogy of the seed and the tree is traditionally used to illustrate causality (kārya-kāraṇa), but here it takes an unexpected turn: saṃsāra is born in Brahman “and yields a pleasant fruit” (sukhaṃ phalam). This is not an apology for saṃsāra but an observation that, seen from the perspective of Brahman, everything—even saṃsāra—is a manifestation of ānanda.

The seed loses nothing by becoming a tree; the tree is not a degradation of the seed but an unfolding of its potential. In the same way, saṃsāra is not a degradation of Brahman but an unfolding of its infinite potential. Suffering is not inherent to the unfolding; it is a misinterpretation of it. Just as the tree provides shade and fruit, so does saṃsāra yield experience and knowledge—both of which are pleasant when seen from the non-dual perspective.

“Samāśritya”—resting upon—is the key verb. The tree does not exist independently of the seed; saṃsāra does not exist independently of Brahman. This support is ontological, not temporal. It is not that Brahman exists first and then saṃsāra arises; rather, saṃsāra is always supported by Brahman, just as the tree is supported by the seed. The Haṭha Pradīpikā (IV.54) describes samādhi as “bīja-samādhi”—seed-samādhi—where the saṃskāras remain latent like seeds. The seed is not an obstacle; it is potential. The yogī in samādhi does not destroy the seeds; they are rendered inoperative for lack of conditions.