In plain words
Though everything is within him, though the Ānanda and the Jñāna that happiness and Śānti need are whole and unbroken within his own self, man toils without rest and cannot reach a happiness and Śānti that are true and lasting. Not recognising the powers that lie within his very self, he searches the world outside and falls into despair; and even those who know that Śānti and contentment are within their own selves waste their time in confusion, without firm faith, and full of doubt.
Water is to be found in the ground beneath; that is true. But unless you take the trouble to clear away the earth that lies over it, you cannot bring the water at the bottom up to the surface and use it. In the same way, if you want the water called lasting Śānti, you must dig out the earth called the vāsanās for sense objects and throw it away. Our very life is the embodiment of Śānti; our very ways are Prema by nature; our very heart is the dwelling of Satya: if you strive by following the right path, all of these are easily found.
Though Śānti, Prema and Satya are right beside us, why can we not lay hold of them and make them the habit of our daily life? Through attachment to the body and the vāsanā for sense objects, kāma and krodha have grown, and harmony, forbearance and humility have all vanished. Even among wives and husbands, children, mothers and fathers, and friends, two minds and two feelings arise, and hatred and envy keep growing. There is no evenness in feelings, and oneness in ideals is rare.
Oneness itself is purity. It is found only in the principle of God, only in Prema for God. The principle of the jīva is water; the principle of God is milk. Water joins milk and merges in it; and through that the worth of the water too grows greater. Once they have joined, to separate them is hard work. Hanumān merged all his feelings in the feeling of Rāmacandra. When He commanded him to go to Laṅkā in search of Sītā, Hanumān did not swell with pride, thinking, “It is to me alone that He has said it”; nor did he take fright, thinking, “Can I carry out so great a responsibility?” “He must have given this command only after taking note of my strength and ability; and if by chance they fall short in me, He will grant what is needed and make me equal to it”: so he had no misgiving on that score. Lakṣmaṇa too was just the same. Rāma's command alone was his life-breath. Once, Śrī Rāma called Lakṣmaṇa: “Brother! This forest country is very lovely. Choose a spot here that you like and build a leaf hut quickly,” He commanded.