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As a start, I think it might be helpful to share Tarthang Tulku's description of how this vision first emerged for him – how he discovered the interplay of time, space, and knowledge in his own experience. The following excerpt is from Love of Knowledge. If you have not considered or explored the interplay of T-S-K before, you may want to reflect on it on your own first before reading how they emerged for Tarthang Tulku as the basis of his new vision.
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“An Emerging Vision
The ideas that eventually led to the Time, Space, and Knowledge vision first appeared in my mind in somewhat the same way that forms might appear floating in empty space. These unexpected thoughts led me to investigate concepts and patterns that I had tended to disregard in the past.
Observing my experience in light of these new ideas, I began to notice that there were different 'levels' of existence, and that these were linked with different mental 'objects'. Little by little, I came to some understanding of how these shapes and forms arose and how they took on meaning and value. This process of investigation circled back on itself, and my senses and my observation on every level became more clear. I learned to see on more than just one 'level' – not in any esoteric sense, but simply in letting the mind look more directly at its own operation.
The changes that came with this new way of investigating brought with them a remarkable sense of freedom. Externally, events continued to unfold much as they had before, subject to their own momentum. But 'internally', I understood and experienced for myself how thought imposed patterns and limits. Once I saw these limits in the act of being set up, I found that I was no longer subject to them. At the same time, it was not 'I' who was gaining freedom or discovering new insights. Instead, knowledge seemed to be active in a new way.
In exploring these issues and insights, I made a distinction between the 'external' world of objects and the 'internal' world of sensory experience. In looking at the 'objective world' I could focus my understanding in terms of 'space', while in looking at the operation of the senses, I had to introduce 'time' as a factor in understanding. This in turn led me to look at 'experience', which seemed to be given by time directly, and to inquire into the connection between experience and the activity of the mind. The interactions among time, space, and knowledge engaged my attention more fully, gradually unfolding into an encompassing vision.
The course of investigation and research that I was carrying out seemed to me rather unusual. Although I had been raised in a tradition where inquiry into the workings of mind was an integral part of education, the specific approach I now found myself adopting had no direct connection to this tradition, or to any other path of inquiry that I was familiar with. I saw the clear potential for tracing such connections, or for exploring possible links between what I was discovering and the views of science. While this approach would have been interesting, it would also have led away from the immediacy of inquiry into a realm where identities, orientations, definitions, and descriptions played a large role. Instead, I simply continued to observe myself and my experience in light of time, space, and knowledge, content to let the new vision develop naturally.
The unfolding vision allowed a more multidimensional understanding, as though I were being guided simultaneously by several compasses, each pointing in a different direction, yet each somehow accurate. The conventional limitation that confines observation to a single 'point of view' situated in space and time had less hold. Knowledge itself seemed to be opening, like a light that had previously been obscured but now was radiating from all directions. This knowledge was freely available: less a possession to be obtained than a luminous, transparent 'attribute' of experience and mental activity.
In tapping this powerful and liberating vision, I never had the sense that I had discovered an esoteric, hidden knowledge. Instead, it seemed to me that the TSK vision gave access to a knowing integral to all knowledge, potentially available within all times and in all circumstances. Observation and inquiry allowed anyone to become a 'witness' for the 'self-evidence' of knowledge. The inner strength and certainty released by the vision, the dynamic activity of the mind that knew, and the physical embodiment in space that made this knowing possible were all expressions of knowledge.
From this new perspective, there was no 'higher' knowledge; only different forms of 'knowingness', like the different levels of meaning in a richly symbolic work of art or philosophy. The varying manifestations of mind - in thought, in consciousness, in awareness – could be understood as responses by 'knowingness' to changing circumstances and connections.
I found it helpful to think of conventional knowledge as being like a fabric, woven through the activity of the knowing 'subject' in its interaction with the known 'object'. This fabric served to veil the natural light of Knowledge 'within' being. But contacting 'knowingness' through observation and inquiry loosened' the fabric's weave, allowing a luminous knowing to shine through.
At first, this luminous knowing seemed quite separate from 'knowledge' of the ordinary 'objects' and the 'events' that time presented. Gradually, however, I began to see the 'fabric' of temporal subject-object interactions as a direct expression of knowledge, and the 'weaving' of the fabric as the active temporal manifestation of luminosity'. Only because conventional knowledge interpreted the 'temporal fabric' as an obscuring, 'solid' reality did experience so often have the flavor of stagnation, conditioning, and bondage. Emotionality, confusion, and not-knowing were 'postures' – the out-comes of 'positions' adopted by the 'subject' as specific interpretations of the subject-object interaction posited by conventional knowledge. By interpreting the positions themselves as being 'real', conventional knowledge assured that the postures adopted by the self would be frozen and inflexible.
A commitment to open observation appeared to reverse this well-established tendency, restoring balance and new potential to experience. I became increasingly aware of the artificial limits we place on observation, focusing on the world around us while ignoring our own minds and the operation of the knowing faculty. Observation can 'know' mental events such as feelings and emotions, and on that basis we assert that we 'know' how to use the mind in specific ways. Such 'knowing', however, is painfully restricted. We do not 'know' how to 'touch' the mind directly, or how to observe the interaction of 'subject' and 'object', 'self and 'world'. We remain oblivious to the subtle constructs that shape both our understanding, and the world that we experience.
Instead of challenging these restrictions, I let 'observation' expand to include them. Just as the mind knows 'events' and 'things' in a particular way, so it knows 'mind' in a particular way. But this 'minding' of the mind – the capacity for knowing and for constructing models that shape the scope of our knowing – can be observed directly in action. When I followed this course, conventional patterns and structures and the models or 'programs' that generate them began to seem transparent. Whether the new pictures and thoughts that formed as the old ones lost their hold were 'accurate' did not seem of primary concern; what truly mattered was the openness that allowed such new content to appear.
As this capacity for knowing and exercising the mind expanded, I tasted a deep and nourishing enjoyment. From enjoyment came clarity, and from clarity a sense of appreciation for the brilliant and powerful dynamic of knowledge. Eventually, I touched an awareness that seemed to 'embody' both clarity and appreciation, 'understanding' and 'feeling', but to go beyond them as well. I realized that this awareness could best be described as the love of knowledge.”
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