Time and space constitute
the two greatest mysteries of the human mind. Deeper even than the mystery of
space is that of time - so deep, in fact, that it took humanity thousands of
years to become conscious of its implications. Apparently the human mind becomes
first aware of space and much later of the reality of time. Even a child is
more or less conscious of the reality of space, while the time-sense is practically
absent and develops at a much later stage. The same happens in the development
of human civilization. The discovery of space, as an element of spiritual importance,
precedes a similar discovery of time.
This can be explained by the fact that space-feeling is first and foremost connected
with the movement of the body, whereas time-feeling is connected with the movement
of the mind. Though space-feeling starts with the body, however, it does not
remain at this stage, but gradually changes into a spiritual by creating a space
conception which is independent from the body, independent of material objects,
independent even of any kind of limitation: culminating in the experience of
pure space or the infinity of space. Here we no longer speak of "conception,"
because infinity cannot be conceived, mentally "pictured" or objectivated,
it can only be experienced. Only when man has penetrated to this experience
and has mentally and spiritually digested and assimilated it, can we speak of
the discovery of time as a new dimension of consciousness.
In early Buddhism the experience of space was recognized as an important factor
of meditation, for instance in the Four Divine States of consciousness (brahmavihdra),
in which the consciously created feelings of selfless love, compassion, sympathetic
joy, and spiritual equanimity are projected one after another into the six directions
of space, namely the four points of the compass, the zenith and the nadir. These
directions had to be vividly imagined, so as to make space and its penetration
by the mind a conscious experience. In a similar way, space became the main
subject of contemplation in the higher or more advanced stages of meditative
absorption (jhana) until consciousness completely identified itself with the
infinity of space, thus resulting in the experience of the infinity of consciousness,
in which the meditator becomes one with the subject of his meditation.
In Mahayana Buddhism, space played an even more important part in the development
of religious art and its symbolism, in which a universe with myriads of worlds
and solar systems and infinite forms of life and dimensions of consciousness
was conceived - leading to the creation of new systems of philosophy, metaphysical
speculation and a vastly refined psychology. The concept of time, however, was
merely treated as a secondary, if not negative, property of existence-namely,
as that on account of which existence was illusory, a passing show of transient
phenomena.
It was only with the advent of the Kalacakra School in the tenth century A.D.
that religious seers and thinkers realized the profound mystery which is hidden
under the conventional notion of time, namely the existence of another dimension
of consciousness, the presence of which we feel darkly and imperfectly on the
plane of our mundane experience. Those, however, who crossed the threshold of
mundane consciousness in the advanced stages of meditation, entered into this
dimension, in which what we feel as time was experienced not merely as a negative
property of our fleeting existence, but as the ever present dynamic aspect of
the universe and the inherent nature of life and spirit, which is beyond being
and non-being, beyond origination and destruction. It is the vital breath of
reality - reality, not in the sense of an abstraction, but as actuality on all
levels of experience - which is revealed in the gigantic movements of the universe
as much as in the emotions of the human heart and the ecstasies of the spirit.
It is revealed in the cosmic dance of heavenly bodies as well as in the dance
of protons and electrons, in the "harmony of spheres" as well as in
the "inner sound" of living things, in the breathing of our body as
well as in the movements of our mind and the rhythm of our life.
Reality, in other words, is not stagnant existence of "something";
it is neither "thingness" nor a state of immovability (like that of
an imaginary space), but movement of a kind which goes as much beyond our sense-perceptions,
as beyond our mathematical, philosophical and metaphysical abstractions. In
fact, space (except the "space" that is merely thought of) does not
exist in itself, but is created by movement; and if we speak of the curvature
of space, it has nothing to do with its prevailing or existing structure (like
the grain in wood or the stratification of rocks), but with its antecedent,
the movement that created it. The character of this movement is curved, i.e.
concentric, or with a tendency to create its own center - a center which may
again be moving in a bigger curve or circle, etc. Thus, the universe becomes
a gigantic mandala or an intricate system of innumerable mandalas (which, according
to the traditional Indian meaning of this word, signifies a system of symbols,
based on a circular arrangement or movement, and serves to illustrate the interaction
or juxtaposition of spiritual and cosmic forces). If, instead from a spatial
point of view, we regard the universe from the standpoint of audible vibration
or sabda, "inner sound," it becomes a gigantic symphony.
In both cases all movements are interdependent, interrelated, each creating
its own center, its own focus of power, without ever losing contact with all
the other centers thus formed. "Curvature" in this connection means
a movement which recoils upon itself (and which thus possesses both constancy
and change, i.e., rhythm) or at least has the tendency to lead back to its origin
or starting-point, according to its inherent law. In reality, however, it can
never return to the same point in space, since this movement itself moves within
the frame of a greater system of relationships. Such a movement combines the
principle of change and nonreversability with the constancy of an unchangeable
law, which we may call its rhythm. One might say that this movement contains
an element of eternity as well as an element of transiency, which latter we
feel as time.
Both time and space are the outcome of movement, and if we speak of the "curvature
of space" we should speak likewise of the "curvature of time,"
because time is not a progression in a straight line-of which the beginning
(the past) is lost forever and which pierces into the endless vacuum of an inexorable
future-but something that recoils upon itself, something that is subject to
the law of ever-recurrent similar situations, and which thus combines change
with stability. Each of these situations is enriched by new contents, while
at the same time retaining its essential character. Thus we cannot speak of
a mechanical repetition of the same events, but only of an organic rebirth of
its elements, on account of which even within the flux of events the stability
of law is discernible. Upon the recognition of such a law which governs the
elements (or the elementary forms of appearance) of all events, is the basis
upon which the I-Ching or "The Book of Changes," the oldest work of
Chinese wisdom, is built.
Perhaps this work would better be called "The Book of the Principles of
Transformatiqn" because it demonstrates that change is not arbitrary or
accidental but dependent on laws, according to which each thing or state of
existence can only change into something already inherent in its own nature,
and not into something altogether different. It also demonstrates the equally
important laws of periodicity, according to which change follows a cyclic movement
(like the heavenly bodies, the seasons, the hours of the day, etc.), representing
the eternal in time and converting time quasi into a higher space-dimension,
in which things and events exist simultaneously, though imperceptible to the
senses. They are in a state of potentiality, as invisible germs or elements
of future events and phenomena that have not yet stepped into actual reality.
These elements are, so to say, eternally recurring spiritual or transcendental
realities and universal laws which in Indian cosmology and philosophy have been
described as the rhythmic origination and dissolution of world-systems. The
same principle repeats itself, according to this view, in the periodic appearance
of enlightened beings, who-though different in their individual qualities and
characters, as well as in their external forms of appearance-represent the same
knowledge and conscious realization of the supreme universal law, which is the
main meaning of the Sanskrit term dharma.
This sameness - or as we may say just as well, this eternal presence of the
"Body of the Law" (dharmakdya), which is common to all Buddhas, to
all Enlightened Ones-is the source and spiritual foundation of all enlightenment
and is, therefore, placed in the center of the Kalacakra-Mandala, which is the
symbolical representation of the universe. Kala means "time" (also
"black"), namely the invisible, incommensurable dynamic principle,
inherent in all things and represented in Buddhist iconography, as a black,
many-headed, many-armed, terrifying figure of simultaneously divine and demoniacal
nature. It is "terrible" to the ego-bound individual, whose ego is
trampled underfoot, just as are all the gods, created in the ego's likeness,
who are shown prostrate under the feet of this terrifying figure. Time is the
power that governs all things and all being, a power to which even the highest
gods have to submit.
Cakra means "wheel," the focalized or concentric manifestation of
the dynamic principle in space. In the ancient tradition of Yoga the cakra signifies
the spatial unfoldment of spiritual or universal power, as for instance in the
cakras or psychic centres of the human body or in the case of the Cakravartin,
the world-ruler who embodies the all-encompassing moral and spiritual powers.
In one of his previous books on Buddhist Tantrism, H. V. Guenther compares the
Kalacakra symbol to the modern conception of the space-time continuum, pointing
out, however, that in Buddhism it is not merely a philosophical or mathematical
construction, but is based on the direct perception of inner experience, according
to which time and space are inseparable aspects of reality.
Only in our minds we tend to separate the three dimensions of space and the
one of time. We have an awareness of space and an awareness of time. But this
separation is purely subjective. As a matter of fact, modern physics has shown
that the time dimension can no more be detached from the space dimension than
length can be detached from breadth and thickness in an accurate representation
of a house, a tree, or Mr. X. Space has no objective reality except as an order
or arrangement of things we perceive in it, and time has no independent existence
from the order of events by which we measure it.
Both space and time are two aspects of the most fundamental quality of life:
movement. Here we come to the rock-bottom of direct experience, which the Buddha
stressed in his emphasis upon the dynamic character of reality, in contrast
to the generally prevailing notions and philosophical abstractions of a static
Atmavada, in which an eternal and unchangeable ego-entity was proclaimed. (The
original concept of atman was that of a universal, rhythmic force, the living
breath of life - comparable to the Greek "pneuma"- that pervaded the
individual as well as the universe.)
We generally speak of time not only as if it were something in itself, something
that we could take for granted, but even as if time were only one. We seldom
realize that this word covers a dozen different meanings or, more correctly,
different categories of relationship. We have to distinguish between mathematical
time, sidereal time, solar time, local time, physical time, physiological time,
psychological time, and so on. And the latter two are as different in every
individual as local time is different from place to place.
An hour in the life of a child is an infinitely longer time-measure than in
the life of a grown-up, because the life-rhythm of a child goes at a much faster
pace than that of an adult or an aged person. And just as the time-sense changes
subjectively and with age, both for physiological as well as for psychological
reasons, in a similar way,
the nature of time varies according to the objects considered by our mind. The
time that we observe in nature has no separate existence. It is only a mode
of being of concrete objects. We ourselves create mathematical time. It is a
mental construct, an abstraction indispensable to the building up of science.
We conveniently compare it to a straight line, each successive instant being
represented by a point. Since Galileo's days this abstraction has been substituted
for the concrete data resulting from the direct observation of things.... In
reducing objects to their pri- mary qualities-that is, to what can be measured
and is susceptible of mathematical treatment - Galileo deprived them of their
secondary qualities, and of duration. This arbitrary simplification made possible
the development of physics. At the same time it led to an unwarrantably schematic
conception of the world.
Indeed, it led to a science which was based on a "Post mortem" of
our world, on the static end-results of what was once alive, a world of facts
and dead matter.
The concept of time is equivalent to the operation required to estimate duration
in the objects of our universe. Duration consists of the superimposition of
the different aspects of an identity. It is a kind Of intrinsic movement of
things .... A tree grows and does not lose its identity. The human individual
retains his personality throughout the flux of the organic and mental processes
that make up his life. Each inanimate or living being comprises an inner motion,
a succession of states, a rhythm which is his very own. Such motion is inherent
time . . . . In short, time is the specific character of things .... It is truly
a dimension of ourselves.
To search for time outside of ourselves or separated from the objects of our
observation-so to say "time in itself"- is like isolating the directions
of space from the observer and to speak of an "absolute east" or a
"north as such" or a "West in itself." "Absolute time"
is as nonsensical as the denial of time; the former because the very concept
of time denotes a relationship either between a subject and an object or between
the different parts of an existing or assumed system of correlated things or
forces; the latter (i.e. the denial of time) because time is a definite experience,
whether we can define it in words or not.
We also cannot define "life," though we do not doubt we possess it.
In fact, ,b>the more real an experience is to us, the less it can be defined.
Only lifeless objects, things which have been artificially separated from their
surroundings or their organic or causal connections, and have thus been isolated
and limited by the human intellect, can be defined. An experience of reality
(and that is all we can talk of, because "reality as such" is another
abstraction) cannot be defined but only circumscribed, i.e., it cannot be approached
by the straight line of two-dimensional logic, but only in a concentric way,
by moving around it, approaching it not only from one side, but from all sides,
without stopping at any particular point. Only in this way can we avoid a one-sided
and perspectively foreshortened and distorted view, and arrive at a balanced,
unprejudiced perception and knowledge. This concentric approach (which moves
closer and closer around its object, in order finally-in the ideal case-to become
one with it) is the exact opposite of the Western analytical and dissecting
way of observation: it is the integral concentration of inner vision (dhyana).
This integrating vision, and the new conception of the world that is born from
it, has been formulated by one of the most creative and significant philosophers
of our time, Jean Gebser, in his monumental work, Foundations and Manifestations
of the Aperspective World, in which he writes:
The origin, out of which every moment of our life is lived, is of a spiritual
and divine character. He who denies this, denies himself; and there are many
nowadays who do this. He who does not deny it, in all simplicity and openmindedness,
is already a promoter of the aperspective conception, of the integral structure
of our consciousness, which has its origin in the process of becoming conscious
of the whole, as well as becoming aware of its transparency.
This requires a new kind of logic, which-though known in India for millenniums-has
remained unnoticed in the Western world. This logic is not based on the axiom
of mutually exclusive opposites ("either-or") and the rejection of
a third possibility, but upon a fourfold formula which postulates four possibilities
with regard to an object, namely (1) its existence, (2) its non-existence, (3)
its existence as well as its non-existence, (4) its neither-existence-nor-non-existence.
We have dealt with this in more detail in a previous essay, and therefore confine
ourselves here only to the following short explanation of these four propositions:
The first two are related to the realm of concrete objects or fixed entities,
which allow us to speak of identity or non-identity. The third proposition refers
to the realm of relativity and corresponds to the processes of organic life;
while the fourth refers to the realm of transcendental experience, beyond sense-perception
and conceptual thought, because its objects are infinite and only accessible
to intuition or to the experience of higher dimensions.
In Europe the attempt to create a logic based on three possibilities or axiomatic
"truth-values" has been made by Reichenbach, who defines the new type
of logic in the following way:
Ordinary logic has two values; it is based upon the two axioms "truth"
and "error." It is, however, possible to find a middle value of truth,
which we can call "indeterminability," and we can add this truth-value
to the group of statements which in the Bohr-Heisenberg interpretation have
been called "meaningless ...... If, however, we have a third truth-value,
namely indeterminability, then the tertium non datur is no longer valid as an
infallible formula; there is a "tertium," a middle value, which is
represented by the logical condition "indeterminable."
This condition of indeterminability (which figures in the Indian system as No.
3 and 4) can be regarded as a state of integration of apparently contradictory,
but in reality, however, of co-existing aspects of the same thing or process;
this has been found true in modern nuclear physics, in which the wave-theory
and the corpuscular theory are equally valid or applicable to the actual facts,
though the two theories are logically exclusive.
Western logic is the exact counterpart of Western perspective which, starting
from one single point in space, projects itself in a straight line upon an object,
excluding all other simultaneously existing aspects and objectively given data.
The attempts of modern art to overcome the one-sidedness of perspective by the
transparency and superimposition of several aspects of the same object correspond
to Gebser's endeavor to prepare the way for a nonperspective world-view, which
frees us from the fetters of a purely dualistic, one-sided logic, and leads
us to the experience of a total and unified reality in which our world becomes
more and more transparent to the awakened mind.
Let us, therefore, circle around our problem still further. What does time mean
from the standpoint of experience? Most people would answer: duration But duration
we have, even when there is no experience of time, as in deep sleep. The experience
of time, therefore, is something more than 'duration: it is movement. Movement
of what? Either of ourselves or of something within or outside ourselves. But
now the paradox:
The less we move (inwardly or outwardly), the more we are aware of time. The
more we move ourselves, the less we are aware of time. A person who is mentally
and bodily inactive feels time as a burden, while one who is active hardly notices
the passage of time. Those who move in perfect harmony with the innermost rhythm
of their being, the pulsating rhythm of the universe within them, are timeless
in the sense that they do not experience time any more. Those who move and live
in disharmony with this inner rhythm, have existence without inherent duration,
i.e., merely momentary existence without direction or spiritual continuity and,
therefore, without meaning.
What we call "eternal" is not an indefinite duration of time (which
is a mere thought-construction, unrelated to any experience) but the experience
of timelessness. Time cannot be reversed. Even if we go back the same way, it
is not the same, because the sequence of landmarks is changed, and moreover,
we see them from the opposite direction-or as in memory, with the added knowledge
of previous experience. The experience of time is due to movement plus memory.
Memory is comparable to the layers of year-rings in a tree. Each layer is a
material addition, an addition of experience-material, which alters the value
of any new experience, so that even repetition can never produce identical results.
Life - just like time - is an irreversible process, and those who speak of eternal
recurrence of identical events and individual (as Ouspensky in his book, A New
Model of the Universe) mistake rhythm or periodicity for mechanical repetition.
It is the most shallow view that any thinker can arrive at, and it shows the
dilemma into which scientific determinism is bound to lead. It is typical of
the intellect that has lost its connection with reality and which replaces life
with the phantoms of empty abstraction. This kind of reasoning leads to a purely
stagnant and mechanical world-view, ending in a blind alley.
Whether the universe as a whole can change or not is quite irrelevant; important
alone is that there is a genuine creative advance possible for the individual
and that the past that is ever growing in him as a widening horizon of experience
and wisdom will continue so to grow until the individual has reached the state
in which the universe becomes conscious in him as one living organism, not only
as an abstract unity or a state of featureless oneness. This is the highest
dimension of consciousness.
What do we understand by "dimension"? The capacity to extend or to
move in a certain direction. If we move outward, we can only do so in three
dimensions, i.e., we cannot go beyond three-dimensional space. The movement,
however, which produces and contains these dimensions is felt as time, as long
as the movement is incomplete or as long as the dimensions are in the making,
i.e., not conceived as a complete whole. The feeling of time is the feeling
of incompleteness. For this reason there is no time in moments of highest awareness,
intuitive vision or perfect realization. There is no time for the Enlightened
Ones.
This, however, does not mean that for an Enlightened One the past has been extinguished
or memory blotted out. On the contrary, the past ceases to be a quality of time
and becomes a new order of space, which we may call the Fourth Dimension, in
which things and events which we have experienced piecemeal can be seen simultaneously,
in their entirety, and in the present. Thus the Buddha in the process of his
enlightenment surveyed innumerable previous lives in ever widening vistas, until
his vision encompassed the entire universe. Only if we recognize the past as
"a true dimension of ourselves," and not only as an abstract property
of time, shall we be able to see ourselves in proper perspective to the universe,
which is not an alien element that surrounds us mysteriously, but the very body
of our past, in whose womb we dream until we awake into the freedom of enlightenment.