Pravachanasāra paints the body, mind and soul as three concentric circles of experience. The body is portrayed as a transient vessel, woven from karmic particles and sense faculties. Inside this shell, the mind acts like a busy switchboard, sorting perceptions and memories. At the very core sits the soul (jīva), pure consciousness untouched by the ebb and flow of thoughts and sensations.

Rather like peeling an onion, Kundakunda urges seekers to strip away the layers of physical sensations and mental chatter to catch a glimpse of that inner light. The body, though indispensable for action and perception, simply houses the mind and soul. It’s compared to a chariot; the senses are the horses, the mind the reins, but the soul is the passenger, steering the journey toward liberation.

Mind here serves as the vital link between body and soul. When fresh karmic impressions dominate, the mind tugs the soul back into identification with material experiences—think of scrolling endlessly on a smartphone, lost in notifications. But when disciplined through right knowledge and introspection (samyag jñāna), the mind settles into a quiet observer, reflecting the soul’s pure clarity.

Contemporary neuroscience echoes this ancient view: studies on embodied cognition reveal how thoughts and bodily states dance together, and mindfulness apps—so popular in 2025—invite a similar witnessing stance. Yet Pravachanasāra goes a step further, declaring that ultimate freedom lies beyond both mind and body. The soul, by its very nature, is distinct from the mind’s whims and the body’s needs.

That trio—body, mind and soul—isn’t locked in some rigid hierarchy but in dynamic harmony. Each layer has a role, yet true peace dawns when the mind stops swinging between sensory cravings and rejects and simply reflects the soul’s tranquil radiance. In today’s fast-paced world, this message rings as a timeless call to look inward, find that silent core and let it guide every step.