Acharya Prashant explains that to attain simplicity, one must live it. He points out that as long as there is a difference between what one enacts on stage and one's actual life, the words spoken will lack power, life, and conviction. He shares his personal experience from his college days, where he would choose to perform in plays whose scripts resonated with his inner world. He would spend weeks selecting a script that matched his inner state, and as a result, what transpired in the play was not merely dramatic but real. He knew exactly how to deliver the dialogues because it was his own life, not someone else's story. He then uses Kabir Saheb as an example, whose worship, circumambulation, and hymns were not separate from his life. His daily actions of getting up and sitting down became his circumambulation. He quotes Kabir, "Kabira, the mind became pure like the water of the Ganges. Now Hari follows me, calling 'Kabir, Kabir'." Kabir did not need to rehearse because he was honest and lived what he said. For him, everyday objects and events became symbols of a higher truth. Seeing a millstone reminded him of duality, weaving cloth showed him the complexities of life, and a colored cloth reminded him of how the world stains the mind. Whatever is happening in the world becomes a symbol for a higher truth if you live a true life. The formula for simplicity is to not need any preparation; your life itself should be your teaching. Words should flow spontaneously from an unknown source, surprising even the speaker. He advises to become light, not a thing. Light illuminates whatever it falls upon. He warns against living a divided life with different faces for different situations. The practice must be continuous, with no difference between being in a spiritual session and being outside. The priority must always be to ask, "What is the reality? What is really going on?" This is very important to ask.