Much like a bolt of lightning cutting through a midnight sky, the Avadhuta Gita shook up the Advaita Vedanta landscape by refusing to tiptoe around spiritual niceties. Its pithy, in-your-face verses—“No place, no time, no purpose”—became a touchstone for later thinkers who wanted to jettison dry metaphysical debates and land squarely in the arena of lived realization.

Vidyaranya, in his Jīvanmukti Viveka, echoes that same irreverence. By weaving in spontaneous, everyday examples of freedom—“A pot doesn’t fret over its maker, nor does the Self over its origin”—he channels the Avadhuta’s insistence on direct experience over scholastic wrangling. Fast-forward to 20th-century luminaries like Ramana Maharshi and Nisargadatta Maharaj, and the influence is unmistakable: both pointed seekers toward the heart of being with the same economy of words, essentially calling a spade a spade.

In Kashmir Shaivism too, Abhinavagupta’s commentaries bear the Avadhuta’s imprint, showing how nondual currents flowed across sectarian boundaries. His poetic expositions on effortless awareness mirror lines from the Gita, revealing a shared impulse to make liberation feel as natural as breathing. By the time Advaita found a global audience on Zoom satsangs and Instagram reels, the Avadhuta Gita’s “naked” approach—stripped of ritual, empty of hierarchy—had laid the groundwork for a digital-age Vedanta that’s less a dusty library and more a living, breathing conversation.

Even today, workshops and podcasts such as “Atma, Here & Now” sprinkle its verses into guided self-inquiry, reminding listeners that freedom isn’t a distant summit but the very ground beneath their feet. In short, the Avadhuta Gita didn’t just influence later Advaitins; it uprooted their assumptions, rewrote their playbook, and continues to brighten the path for anyone willing to drop the pretense and wake up.