........................................................................................................................................................ The Vedanta Temple sits in the foothills of the San Ynez Mountains looking down to the Pacific Ocean, where ribbons of mist mask an horizon of oil-drilling platforms and islands with a mythic past. "I am like the ocean and the universe is like a wave; this is Knowledge. So it is neither to be renounced nor accepted nor destroyed." [Astavakra Samhita. S. Nitaswarupananda, trans. Calcutta, 1975.] The temple's bell, lifted from a Chinese ship and rehung on a sturdy wooden lintel where the Indian Upanishads are told, is green with the wiles of time and circled by words too faint to read. I open my notebook on the steps of the hand-hewn temple, then wander through a text of eucalyptus, wildflowers, sage and scattered stones. I hear a man talking to a dog, and a fly who insists on buzzing a prayer around my ears. Asked if marking off "sacred spaces" leaves open all other space to exploitation, the great mythologist, Joseph Campbell, replied: "You may say that 'Sacred Space is everywhere,' but you can say that only after you have learned the discipline of sacred space, and appreciated the metaphoric significance of the objects found within." [Thou Art That. Novato, CA, 2001.] Rather than Sacred Space relative to a particular tradition, a particular place, I suggest Earth Space, and a discipline of learning the metaphoric significance of the resources found within—Knowledge drawn up from the depth of its roots.