All things in creation, it is said, are like space—vast, subtle, and seemingly indivisible—yet they are separated and distinguished by the sharp discernment of truth. Just as a measure or standard is established to order the three worlds and even the great ocean, so too is there a measure in the workings of existence. The comings and goings of the Siddhas and the gods themselves are limited, each according to their own nature and the name bestowed upon the great-minded one among them. Who, indeed, could truly comprehend all this, even if another of similar greatness were to exist? It is Brahma, the embodiment of Dharma, who stands as the foremost and supreme progenitor of all. When Brahma, the ancient one, is spoken of, doubts may naturally arise, for his nature is profound. Know that for Brahma’s seat, the earth itself is called the lotus. Seated at the very center of this lotus, Brahma creates the worlds; he is the creator of the universe. His abode is set in the very heart of Mount Meru, and beyond that, O best of the twice-born, lies all else. For the protection of all beings, water was the first element to be created. Through water, the life-forces of every creature are nourished and made to flourish, enabling their increase and sustenance. All these waters are to be understood as belonging to Varuna, the lord of the waters, which, after their creation, came once more to rest in stillness. Yet, questions persist: How was the earth itself created? On this matter, there is great doubt. The origin of the worlds has long been a subject of inquiry among the wise and great souls. In their search for truth, the twice-born sages, forsaking food and striving with one another in austerity, endured for a hundred divine years. It was then that the divine Sarasvati appeared, descending from the heavens. In her presence, it seemed as if the moon, the sun, and the wind had vanished, and all things were wrapped in a deep sleep. From the pressure and movement of the waters, the wind arose. As it filled the vastness of space, the wind generated sound, bursting forth and breaking through the surface of the waters with a great, resounding noise. Ascending upward, the wind reached the region of the sky but found no peace or stillness there. Instead, a profound darkness appeared, rising higher and utterly devoid of light. From the contact and friction between fire and wind, solidity began to form. As these elements gathered and aggregated, they assumed the nature of earth itself. Thus, the earth came to be known as that from which all things are produced. All these worlds are enveloped by what are called the great elements. But how does the true nature of “elementhood” arise within them? Because of their all-encompassing quality, these are rightly called the great elements. Here, earth is the aggregate, and the body is composed of five elements. Hearing, smell, taste, touch, and sight are the senses by which beings perceive the world. In immobile beings, such as trees and plants, the five elements are not visibly manifest in the body. Trees, for example, do not seem to contain all the elements, nor do they appear to perceive touch—so how, it may be asked, can the five elements be present in them? Because space is boundless and immeasurable, trees do not possess the material aspect of space as other beings do. Yet, flowers and fruits manifest in them continually, and they wither and decay as well—evidence that the sense of touch is present there. Sound, which is grasped by hearing, is also present, so it is said that trees hear. There is no unseen path for them; thus, in a subtle way, trees see. And as they flourish and bear flowers, it is clear that trees also possess the sense of smell. In this way, the mystery of creation and the subtle presence of the great elements in all beings, even the unmoving trees, is revealed to those who seek to know.