theblackalchemist Posted November 21, 2006 Report Posted November 21, 2006 hi there any more extra info / suggestions are welcomeas i am currently doing a research in alchemy as i was not able to systematically attach all files i was forced to give this in writing The Alchemical Vessel as Symbol of the Soul As students of the hermetic tradition we all recognise that the alchemical work takes place on many different levels - the physical work with substances, the experience and manipulation of etheric forces, the interior work on the soul, as well as the spiritual and planetary/cosmic aspects of alchemy. These different facets of the work interpenetrate and overlap each other. Indeed, in a sense, if we are to make any progress in alchemy, we must pursue the different facets concurrently, paralleling interior development with experience of the outer work. One symbol that belongs to all these different realms of this work is that of the alchemical vessel. In this article I would like to outline some ways in which we can use this symbol in our inner exercises. The tradition of interior development in alchemy, is pursued by mirroring the transformations and processes of alchemy within our soul. As with any esoteric practice, this internalising of alchemical operations can produce disturbing patterns in the powerful psychic energies that we evoke through inner work, unless we find some means of containing these energies. In the tradition of ritual ceremonial magic the operators normally use an opening and closing ritual that acts as a structure to contain and safely dissipate the energies raised through their work. Similarly, in many traditions of meditation, an opening and closing exercise (sometimes based on breathing rhythms) helps to anchor and reconnect the meditators with their normal state of consciousness, so as not to leave them rather dissociated and dangling somewhere in between the outer and interior worlds. In our inner work with alchemical processes we will find the symbol of the alchemical vessel an invaluable means for containing the interior energies and allowing them to unfold within us in a controlled and positive manner. So in a sense, the alchemical vessel can be a protective interior symbol, just like the circle of the ceremonial magician, or the astral temple of a working esoteric lodge, or the breathing exercises of a meditation tradition. The energies evoked by working with alchemical processes, as I have said, can be powerful and disruptive forces in the psyche, and a direct inner encounter with these transformative energies is not to be had instantaneously. Only through long and repeated interior work do we come to directly experience these energies in their primal and most fundamental form. The initial encounters are usually ephemeral and overlain with emotional currents. Only if we have the patience of alchemists tirelessly repeating interior experiments, brooding over our inner flask, will we attain even a glimpse of the goal of alchemical transmutation. It is therefore important that we understand the nature of the alchemical vessel so that we have some indication of how to use this in our inner work. We should come to see that symbols are actually patterns of energy. In an exoteric sense this is so, for obviously any symbol held in our consciousness is manifested as an electro-chemical plexus in the neuron net in our brain. However, esoterically on the deepest level, a symbol is the pattern of etheric energy underlying its various different forms. When we meditate on a symbol we will find it shape-shifting and manifesting its different appearances, and through this can come to grasp that the true nature of the symbol is its energy pattern. There are many different forms of vessel described and depicted in the alchemical literature and emblematic engravings. There are a seeming multiplicity of forms of retort, pelicans, water baths, alembics, cucurbites, stills, etc. However, in the interior work we will find that all these different outer manifestations of the apparatus reduce to three archetypal forms - which we can call the CRUCIBLE, the RETORT and the STILL. The Crucible is essentially an open vessel, a dish, a mortar, or a cauldron, open to the outside world yet capable of containing material. Substances and energy patterns can be put into the crucible and be acted upon by some agent, and some part of this substance can also be drawn off or removed so enacting a kind of purification. This is often pictured as taking place through the application of heat. In outer terms, an ore is placed in the crucible, which is then heated, the metal forms itself out of the ore and various impurities are given off into the air, or a slag is skimmed off the surface of the metal. Thus the primal substance, the ore, is transformed into new pure metal. The essence, however, of this type of vessel and the inner operations undertaken in it, is that it is open. A transformation can be undertaken because certain energies (or impurities) are allowed to escape or dissipate. Heating is not essential to this archetypal alchemical process. Acting on a salt with an acid to produce an effervescence or release of gases, is another outer example of this process, or the slow precipitation or crystallisation of a solid out of a mother liquor. When we internalise the crucible in our souls we picture a vessel within our being which is open, allowing impurities or unwanted facets of the work to pass out or to dissipate away, as well as substances and forces to enter in from the universal spiritual. In this sense the crucible in our souls is a chalice, the lower part of which contains and holds a substance or constellation of forces while its upper part is open to universal spiritual influences. Unwanted energies can be allowed to safely flow out of our crucible and dissolve in the universal flow, and in the other direction energies can be gathered from the spiritual and allowed to descend to the bottom of our interior vessel. This process can be a gentle and slow flowing one, or alternatively one can heat up our inner crucible through generating powerful currents of emotional energy, forcing and pressing for some transformation to occur. Indeed, once we become experienced in using these techniques, we can readily consciously evoke both of these phases, the active fiery phase and the gentle cooling, precipitation or crystallisation, and in a particular working these can be applied alternatively to create a polarity within the interior experience, that greatly helps the work to come to some conclusion. Thus we normally undertake such exercises by placing some pattern of symbolic energy into our inner crucible, then opening ourselves to the particular transformations that can be evolved by this exercise - calcinations, purifications, crystallisations, dissolvings, etc. I hope to write further on the inner nature of these alchemical processes in a later issue of the Journal. The Retort in this archetypal case is a sealed flask. In this interior work we picture our soul as entirely sealed off from both the outer world and the universal spiritual realm. When we undertake this exercise we must have everything we need within the sphere of our inner retort, and for the duration of this work we are entirely self-contained and rely on inner change to take place within the components or forces we have within our being at that time. We have to work to bring about a transformation in these inner patterns, without relying on external forces. It is thus very important if we are to undertake such interior exercises in a positive way with any hope of any satisfactory results, to prepare ourselves and place in our inner retort all the energies and symbols that are necessary for the process. Thus working this particular exercise requires some degree of preparation. The retort exercise is especially valuable for working towards the interior synthesis of polarities. We place the polarised patterns of energy bound up, say, in some particular set of symbols, into our interior flask, seal it up, and allow them to fully unfold, interpenetrate, and come to a new synthesis. The most common symbol of this in alchemical writings is the man and woman in a flask, uniting and giving birth to a child. So the obvious forces to work with through this exercise are our masculine and feminine components. Through putting these patterns of symbolic energies into our inner retort and calling up the manner in which they manifest and resonate within our beings we can bring about an encounter with these psychic components and make them meet in a positive way. Other polarities we might try to work with are our logical thinking and emotional intuitive facets, or body and spirit, even our awe of the spiritual light and our fear of the deep darkness of matter, or the processes of life and death, and growth and decay. We should try to experience the retort as a womb or matrix in which the process of gestation or new birth arising out of primal components, can safely take place in us. If we work with this retort exercise over a period of time, we will begin to feel the importance of this space in our souls, and value it as a creative interior workplace. The alchemical processes that go on in this retort usually involve the meeting of polarities, such as Separation and Conjunction, or of Dissolving and Coagulation. Sometimes we find our inner retort will go black, and nothing seems to happen for an extended period, but if we persevere some change will eventually be seen - perhaps at first merely a glimmer - which over a number of repetitions of the exercise might give rise to some new inner experience. At other times the retort will be full of movement and iridescent play of colours and ever changing forms, and here we must wait for some solid and substantial ground to arise in the shifting patterns, upon which our inner experience can grow. A symbol or pattern of energy often experienced at this stage is the tree or flowering plant within the space of the interior retort. Another symbol structure is that of the bird rising and falling in our inner world. The final interior vessel I would like us to consider is that of the Still. When we try to experience our inner world though this symbol, we should have a sense of extracting an essence out of one of the interior processes, purifying and gathering it within our being so that it becomes an inner source we can touch upon at will. This alchemical operation to some extent corresponds in our everyday outer consciousness to the way in which an experience of coming to an understanding of some aspect of our world can entirely transform our way of interacting with it. For example, our initial reaction to a new piece of technology or an unfamiliar task, is tentative and fraught with difficulties we project upon this device or task. If we can eventually understand just how the device works or gain a picture of the movements needed to accomplish the task, then our way of using the device or of undertaking the task becomes entirely transformed. Similar processes take place in respect to our interior life through the exercises of inner distillation, though this works on a more subtle plane. Here we take some particular positive quality of our being, such as our creativity, or our sensitivity to others, or our ability to think deeply and clearly, and we find some symbols that capture (or at least envelope) the essence of this quality. We then place these into our interior Still and in our meditation begin to allow these symbol patterns to flow together. At some point in the inner work, we should sense some essence of this process begin to rise out of and separate itself from the specific symbols and feelings connected with this quality. If we encourage this process we can have the inner experience of elevating this essence and allowing it to collect in the upper part of our soul. It then becomes a Tincture. If, say, we choose to work upon our creativity through this exercise, we place into our interior Still, our understandings of the source of our creativity, picturings of our previous creations or our work in progress, memories of the emotional currents associated with our creative experiences, more universal symbols of creativity, and so on. In a meditative work on this facet, which will take many sessions to bring to fruition, we evoke all this material in our interior Still and attend closely to the processes and changes taking place there. For example, at one point we will experience the 'polarity flipping' of various symbols. We might, say, initially believe our creative impulse lies entirely in the quest for some ideal form, and experience this ideal image flipping (instantaneously interchanging) with its antithesis, some ugly shapelessness, or cycle of metamorphoses, producing disturbing patterns within our being. This stage will eventually resolve and we will find some symbol or feeling-perception that captures the essence of our creativity (or whatever we have chosen to work with) emerging out of the meditative material. If we nurture and sustain this essence, then we can allow it to rise up within our soul and we will feel it remaining as a kind of tincture in our inner world. If this tincture becomes fixed within our being then we can later draw upon it at will. What we find then is that a part of our inner forces retains an echo of all the meditative work we undertook at that time, and we can reconnect with this reservoir whenever we wish. So in the case of creativity, once we possess this inner tincture, then if we have some difficulties (or a block) over some particular piece of creative work, we will find that evoking the inner tincture of this experience, will put us deeply in touch with the ground of our creativity and may enable us to resolve our present problem. Of course, such exercises are never entirely completed, as we ourselves are changing all the time in response to ongoing experiences, but working with our interior Still will be found invaluable in putting us in touch with the sources of our positive qualities. In alchemical terms the processes associated with the Still include those of Distillation, Exaltation, Fixation, Projection, Multiplication, Quintessence, etc. I hope these few indications might help us to see how the philosophy and symbolism of the ancient alchemists can still be effectively used today, as a vital living force for the inner spiritual transformation of our souls. The 'open secret' of alchemy is that we must, like the alchemists of old, experience our inner world as these alchemical vessels. Then our inner life will be tinged and transformed with a new richness of spiritual experience. also any one knows a site where we can get info for reading alchemic texts ?? thanksTBA Quote
theblackalchemist Posted November 21, 2006 Author Report Posted November 21, 2006 hey guyssorry but i cant seem to upload pix into the threadany idea how to do it ? :naughty::shrug::lol::shrug::eek::shrug:;) thanks TBA Quote
hallenrm Posted November 21, 2006 Report Posted November 21, 2006 A post, too long for comfortable reading! :D Quote
HydrogenBond Posted November 22, 2006 Report Posted November 22, 2006 To upload pics into a reply, they must come from a site on the web. Things on the web, already, are easiest to do. If you have your own pics, upload them into Myspace or into the web site area provided by your internet provider. It can be a dummy site with only pics. Next, right click the pictures and left click properties. In the info provided, you can get the exact web location of the image. Copy this info (right click/copy). Hit the image tab above the forum's reply box (looks like a picture) and paste the copied address into the prompt. Make sure not to have (2) http:// That is it. Quote
InfiniteNow Posted November 23, 2006 Report Posted November 23, 2006 You can also upload pics to the gallery and link to it in your post from there... or you can upload attachments from the Advanced Reply area... There are a few ways. Check out our FAQ area and search the term "image." Also... I've provided a link for your reference below. http://hypography.com/forums/faq.php?s=&do=search&q=image&match=all&titlesonly=0 I want to take a moment to repeat the above... Your post is too long. Try presenting single ideas for discussion at a time... then add to it later. Your post is an impossibly long read for the average forum member and loses it's effectiveness due to it's length. Cheers. :singer: Quote
Michaelangelica Posted November 24, 2006 Report Posted November 24, 2006 Hessian crucible makers made use of an advanced material only properly identified and named in the 20th century. Professor Ian Freestone, Cardiff School of History and Archaeology, said: "Manufacture of the crucibles used in early metallurgy and alchemy challenged the potters as they were required to withstand conditions more extreme than those required of other ceramics. In this case we find that the properties of a material which we regard as modern and high-tech, in this case mullite, were being exploited centuries ago by craftsmen who had a limited scientific understanding of their products but a great deal of skill and ingenuity." http://www.physorg.com/news83425304.html Quote
Southtown Posted November 24, 2006 Report Posted November 24, 2006 hey guyssorry but i cant seem to upload pix into the threadany idea how to do it ? :confused:... thanks Click the paper clip when posting, and it will allow you to upload to hypography. Then click it again and select an uploaded image. Quote
theblackalchemist Posted November 25, 2006 Author Report Posted November 25, 2006 i have edited my postsif this pattern is ok then pls reply stating the samei will see that i will post the post :naughty: like in the same manner PS now u can read it in comfort part by part:friday::hyper::xx::hyper:;):hyper: thanksTBA Quote
HydrogenBond Posted November 25, 2006 Report Posted November 25, 2006 The alchemists were empiricists. They would run a lot of different experiments and see how the data went and then try to make sense of it with mystical symbolism. They are a good example of how empiricsm allows the state of knowledge to move forward without requiring any solid understanding of phenomena. Quote
theblackalchemist Posted February 12, 2007 Author Report Posted February 12, 2007 Guysi had to now delete all my attachmentsso bear with me Quote
theblackalchemist Posted February 12, 2007 Author Report Posted February 12, 2007 Animal symbolism in alchemic traditions Alchemy, as I perceive it, is a spiritual tradition, a means for exploring our inner space and the layers which clothe the precious essence of our innermost soul. It is a path, a way, a practical method for investigating the substance of our being, by meditating upon chemical processes. The alchemists worked with their retorts, heating, calcining, subliming, distilling substances, watching all the while the transformations within their experiments. They used events in their experiments as seed images for meditations, forming visual mantras from chemical changes. The alchemists reflected and mirrored these outward events into their interior world. They saw the processes in their flasks as an interaction and linking of the spiritual and the material. The spirit rose up, separating from the substance at the bottom of their flasks and descended again to spiritualise the material into an essence or tincture. As the alchemists reworked these experiments over in their souls, they further drew parallels with the greater laboratory of Nature. They saw the work within their flasks as a kind of microcosm of macrocosmic Nature. The living energies and beings in Nature were metaphorically drawn into their retorts, as they began to picture the living alchemical processes through animal symbols. For example, a black toad was a good image for the seething black mass of substance digesting in the flask, while a white eagle was a beautiful way of describing the white steam or fumes which rose up into the neck of the flask from the substance being heated below. I would just like us to consider some of the more important of these animal symbols. Alchemists were, of course, individualists who worked alone, rather than being members of sodalities or secret orders, yet despite their writings being a result of their own experiences, the animal metaphors rapidly developed into a universal language. In the centuries before the invention of printing, key alchemical manuscripts, often with beautiful illuminated illustrations, circulated quite widely. Works like the Aurora Consurgens (attributed to Thomas Aquinas), the Buch der Heiligen Dreigaltigheit, the works of Ramon Lull, Roger Bacon, Arnold of Villa Nova, exist in many manuscript collections from this period, and with this exchange of ideas a quite coherent set of metaphors emerged in the European Alchemical tradition. It was the coherence and universality of this set of alchemical symbols that lead Carl Jung to the concept of the collective unconscious. The alchemists though pursuing their inner work independently as individuals, nevertheless found in their interior descent a coherent language of symbols. At the core of this was a vision of an alchemical process occurring through a cycle of colour changes, from an initial blackness to the perfection of the quintessence. The alchemist envisaged each stage of the process being heralded by a colour change and a meeting with certain animals. Blackening - Black Crow, Raven, Toad, Massa Confusa. Whitening - White Swan, White Eagle, skeleton. Greening - Green Lion. Rapid cycling through iridescent colours - Peacock's Tail. White Stone - Unicorn. Reddening - Pelican feeding young with its own blood, cockerel. Final transmutation - Phoenix reborn from the fire. The phase of Blackening which usually marked the beginning of the work, was brought about either by heating the prima materia in the process of Calcination (the 'dry way' of the alchemists), or by the process of Putrefaction, a slow rotting or digestion over a period of weeks or months (the so-called 'wet way'). The Black Crow or Raven was often associated with this Calcination, for on vigorous heating the calcined material would usually carbonise and layers would flake off and move like a crow's wings in the flask. The Toad was a better symbol of the Putrefaction, the decaying mass slowly pulsating and shifting as gasses were given off, while the substance rotted down to a black mass. Another symbol of this stage was the dragon, a familiar inhabitant of the alchemists flasks. The dragon is however a more complex symbol and is also used when winged as a symbol for the spiritualising of the earthly substance. Thus to the alchemists the dragon appeared at the beginning and at the end of the work. The alchemists paralleled these experiences in their souls as a withdrawal into the darkness of their interior space, a darkness pregnant with possibility. We have to a great extent lost the sense that still lived in the medieval and renaissance alchemists, that this darkness contained all potentialities. Like children we fear the dark, and for twentieth century humanity darkness often holds only an existential dread - philosophers of science have in the last decade brought us this terrible image of the 'Black Hole' which swallows up and annihilates everything that comes into its orbit. Perhaps we do not gaze enough at the blackness of the heavens. For if we look deep into the blackness of space on a clear night, we will sense more stars hidden between the known visible stars, especially in the vast star fields of the Milky Way. Cosmic space is pregnant with the possibility of other worlds as yet unseen. It is this image of blackness we must try to recover if we are to become alchemists. An echo of this perhaps remains in the often used phrase "a profound darkness". In alchemy, to meet with the black crow is a good omen. Thus in the Chymical Wedding of Christian Rosenkreutz, as our hero sets out on his journey of transformation, he meets with a Crow which by a turn of fate decides which among the various paths open to him is the one that will lead him to the Castle of the King. The temporary phase of whitening which followed on the black stage was symbolised by the white eagle or white swan. As the black mass of the calcination was reacted with other substances and heated, it took on a white crust or dusty layer which sometimes puffed up and flew in a cloud in the flask, as heat exploded bubbles of gas out of the black substance below. This was the White Eagle of the dry way. In the wet way, the dark putrefying matter sometimes began to form white patches, often fungal growths floating on the surface, or white crystals growing out of the mass. This could be pictured as the White Swan, which was at home upon the surface of the water yet fed off of the dark mud at the bottom of the stream or lake. Its whiteness contrasting with the mud on which it is observed to feed, made it a fine symbol of how spiritual purity could be gained from the unpromising primal material. The whitening is a phase when we sense or have a prevision of the end of the work. It is a polar swing from out of the blackening - the appearance of seeds of the future development of the work. It is that stage of catharsis after some intense experience of being consumed in the crucible, when we glimpse the appearance, however fragmentary, of a new possibility - a flickering light in our souls which draws us towards its promise of change. We all experience these alchemical phases in our inner life, though nowadays, immersed as we are in twentieth century images which often lack a spiritual core, we often fail to recognise these to be of any value, but if we are able to use the alchemical view of inner transformation, which we might need to mould and shape to suite our present consciousness, we can gain much inner perception and growth. For our blackness becomes a pregnant space, and a mere fleeting show of the whiteness, is a significant step towards out goal of integration of the spiritual and the material in our beings. Thus in alchemy these two phases so fundamentally linked, were sometimes seen as the chaining of a toad and an eagle. The eagle of the spirit is held down by the earthly weight of the toad, while the earthly part of our being (the toad symbol) is lifted up towards the spirit. The hermetic philosopher Michael Maier incorporated this symbol into his coat of arms. The image of the earthly dragon bearing wings was sometimes used to express this same idea. If we can sense within our souls the need to link the spirit and the material, the spiritualising of the material and the materialising of the spirit, then we truly have made progress through the blackening to the stage of the whitening. At this point the alchemists would often encounter the Peacock's Tail, a sudden appearance of a rush of colours, an iridescence on the surface of the material in the flask, which made some think they had achieved their goal. This could arise through the formation of a layer of oil on the surface of the watery mass (in the wet way) or some oxidation-reduction reactions, say on the surface of liquid metal (in the dry way). It was a fleeting show of colour changes, that pointed to the fact that one was on the right path, and reabsorbed the energies released in initial emergence of the polarities. It was a midway point of the process, which could be seen as a false conclusion. Many people who have this experience in their inner life often falsely assume they have reached the end of the work, and attained inner transformation and enlightenment. The inner vision of the PeacockÕs Tail, beautiful though it may be, is merely a digestion of the polarities of the black and white stage. These must be transformed further into spiritual tinctures, if we hope to have any permanent transformation within the soul. Not all alchemists used the symbolism of the Peacock's Tail, and another stage often met at this point in the cycle was the meeting with the Green Lion. Physically the Green Lion was usually a name for vitriol, or the sulphuric acid created by distilling the green crystals of iron sulphate in a flask. Iron sulphate was formed when iron ores rich in sulphides were left to oxidise in the air, so was readily available to medieval alchemists. The sharp penetrating sulphuric acid could create major chemical changes in many materials even to the extent of dissolving metals like iron, and copper. The Green Lion could also be the nitric acid formed from heating saltpeter or nitre and iron sulphate. Nitric acid when mixed with the acid derived from common salt, hydrochloric acid, produced aqua regia, a greenish tinged liquid that could dissolve even the noble metal gold. The Green Lion devouring the sun is a famous image in alchemy being depicted in many manuscripts and engravings, and can be thought of as aqua regia dissolving the solar gold and forming a solution which could readily tinge metals with gold. To other alchemists who worked primarily with vegetable matter and processes, rather than the mineral work, the Green Lion was an image of the green raw energy of nature, "the green fuse which drives the flower" as Dylan Thomas elegantly expressed it in one of his poems. Here the Green Lion which devours the sun is the green pigment chlorophyll. The green leaves of the plant are formed out of the energy of sunlight. Alchemists often attempted to create living processes in their flasks and looked especially for precipitates or crystallisations which resembled leaves or plant forms. The Green Lion here could be a plant sap extract which was often the prima materia for their alchemical work. The Gryphon, half-eagle and half-lion, was sometimes associated with the end of this stage. The eagle nature of the Gryphon gave this hybrid being an ability to ascend in the flask, so it marked, in a sense, the spiritualisation of the Green Lion. In the work with minerals, the metal antimony was referred to as the Grey Wolf, because when molten it greedily swallowed up many other metals, such as copper, tin and lead, by forming alloys. In this sense it behaved like metallic mercury which also readily amalgamated with metals. The Grey Wolf of antimony became especially important in early 17th century alchemy - its curative properties being popularised through the writings published under the name of Basil Valentine. To an extent it became an analogue for the work with minerals of the Green Lion of the work with plant substance. After the Peacock's Tail or the greening of the Lion, alchemists looked for the appearance of a stage of whitening then a reddening in their flasks marking an new integration of the polarities which had emerged in the initial blackening and whitening and then been digested. The white stage was the formation of the white tincture or stone, and was derived from though not to be confused with the earlier whitening which followed the calcination or putrefaction, for to have proceeded to this stage meant one was on a higher level of spiritual attainment. This was often pictured as the appearance of a queen dressed in shining white robes in the flask. The white tincture marked a process of inner change when the alchemist was able to experience and bring into an integrated harmony the feminine component of the soul. Often this sexual element is stressed in alchemy. The Rosarium Philosophorum, a key work of the mid 16th century, shows the coupling of the male and female as a central facet of the process. Regrettably, some 20th century commentators have sought to link this symbolism with the practice of so called 'sex-magic', in which people seek to use the sexual act as a basis for magical working. The alchemical manuscripts and books do not seem to support such an interpretation at all. The male and female copulating in the flask were for the alchemists symbols for aspect of our inner being uniting together. They saw metals, plants and minerals as being masculine and feminine in some degree and projected the transformations of these in their retorts into their inner space, in order to explore their own masculine and feminine natures. Acids, for example, which could penetrate and dissolve metal ores, were seen as masculine. Substances exhibited a femininity when they were connected with the forces of growth and nourishment of processes in the flask and the melding of substances together into a new unity. Metallic Mercury was seen as hermaphrodite as it both dissolved and brought together other metals into an amalgam. The White Stone was sometimes symbolised by the Unicorn, partly because of its white horn, but also because the Unicorn could only be tamed by the touch of a pure woman. Thus the White Tincture can only be experienced by purifying the feminine forces within our beings. The reddening or formation of the Red Stone was pictured through the symbol of the Pelican. The white pelican bird with its long bill reaching down over its breast, was in medieval times mistakenly observed piercing its breast with its bill and feeding its young on its own blood. What actually happens is that the bird regurgitates food it has caught earlier and its young feed on this ground up fish, bits of which fall onto the breast of the pelican and it appears as if its breast is bleeding. This myth of the sacrificial act of the Pelican in feeding its young on its own blood, was more powerful than the prosaic reality and during medieval times the Pelican became a symbol for ChristÕs sacrifice of his blood. Alchemists also took this symbol aboard and readily incorporated it into their symbolic menagerie. The reddening marked the formation of the Red Tincture, which transformed the masculine forces of the soul, ennobled them, and brought them into a new harmony and was often symbolised by the appearance of a Red King in the flask. In our inner work, we begin to possess the red tincture when we have entered on the task of transforming the raw energies of the masculine component of our souls, sometimes pictured by the alchemists as a knight brandishing a sword, into a more creative force. The tinctures in alchemy relate also to the substances of the Mass, the red wine, the blood, and the white wafer, the body of Christ. Administration of the Sacraments was seen as spiritualising the souls of the partakers. In alchemical terms these white and red stones or tinctures served much the same purpose, though the alchemists achieved this, not through the intermediacy of a priest but by their own inner work of transmutation. Here alchemy links directly with the Grail stories which use similar parallels between the Grail and the Sacraments. The red tincture was occasionally symbolised by a stag bearing antlers. The stag being seen as a noble masculine animal. This links in with the Unicorn as a symbol of the white or feminine tincture. In some alchemical illustrations, such as that of the late 16th century Book of Lambspring, the Stag and Unicorn meet in the forest of the soul as part of the process of inner transformation. The final stage of the work was often symbolised by the Phoenix rising from the flames. This goes back to the Greek myth of the Phoenix bird which renewed itself every 500 years by immolating itself on a pyre. This is thus a kind of resurrection and was paralleled with the symbol of Christ rising from the tomb. In interior terms its marks the rebirth of the personality from out of the crucible of transformation. The alchemists in meditating on processes in their flasks threw themselves into a sea of strange experiences, and as they worked these within their meditations and sought to grasp the inner parallels and significance of each of the stages of the process they had embarked upon, in a sense they experienced an inner death and rebirth in attaining the Philosophers' Stone. This stone was actually experienced as the formation of a solid ground within the shifting sea of their inner world. Once this solid ground in the soul was found, the alchemists were able to take hold of their lives in a creative way, they could root their personality on a solid foundation or ground of inner experience. One symbol of the stone was that of the Ouroboros, the snake holding its tail. As we begin the work, we are all rather unformed (the 'Massa Confusa' or confused mass is a good image) and often victims at the mercy of the sway of polarities in the soul, psychic energies that constantly shift from one pole to another, from joy to despair, from overbearing positivity to deep melancholy and negativity, from light to dark, energy to inertia. Our consciousness naturally follows the cycle of wakefulness and sleep, reflecting the cycle of day and night and the Seasons in Nature. This duality becomes reflected in many of our inner experiences. The snake often was used as a symbol for duality - its long drawn out body separating the polarities of head and tail. Sometimes the figure of a winged dragon was used here in place of the snake, in order to close the circle with the dragon at the beginning of the work. When the snake or dragon seized its tail it united the polarities into a circle, a symbol to the alchemists for achieving solidity amongst the dualistic energies of the soul forces. The creation of the Philosophers'stone, was the formation of solid inner ground upon which the alchemical philosophers could build their personalities, and experience the full potentiality of being human. Thus alchemists could pursue their cycle of inner transformation as embarking on a journey in which they met with archetypal animal figures. The steps on their journey were paralleled in their experiments in their flasks, and the detailed images of processes of change were worked together with the animal archetypes of that stage into a mandala-like picture which they used as the basis for their meditations. Quantum Consciousness The hermetic tradition has long been concerned with the relationship between the inner world of our consciousness and the outer world of nature, between the microcosm and the macrocosm, the below and the above, the material and the spiritual, the centric and the peripheral. The hermetic world view held by such as Robert Fludd, pictured a great chain of being linking our inner spark of consciousness with all the facets of the Great World. There was a grand platonic metaphysical clockwork, as it were, through which our inner world was linked by means of a hierarchy of beings and planes to the highest unity of the Divine. This view though comforting is philosophically unsound, and the developments in thought since the early 17th century have made such a hermetic world view untenable and philosophically naive. It is impossible to try to argue the case for such an hermetic metaphysics with anyone who has had a philosophical training, for they will quickly and mercilessly reveal deep philosophical contradictions in this world view. So do we now have to abandon such a beautiful and spiritual world view and adopt the prevailing reductionist materialist conception of the world which has become accepted in the intellectual tradition of the West ? I am not so sure. There still remains the problem of our consciousness and its relationship to our material form - the Mind / Brain problem. Behavioural psychologists such as Skinner tried to reduce this to one level - the material brain - by viewing the mental or consciousness events from the outside as being merely stimulus-response loops. This simplistic view works fine for basic reflex actions - "I itch therefore I scratch" - but dissolves into absurdity when applied to any real act of the creative intellect or artistic imagination. Skinner's determinism collapses when confronted with trying to explain the creative source of our consciousness revealing itself in an artist at work or a mathematician discovering through his thinking a new property of an abstract mathematical system. The psychologists' attempts to reduce the mind/brain problem to a merely material one of neurophysiology obviously failed. The idea that consciousness is merely a secretion or manifestation of a complex net of electrical impulses working within the mass of cells in our brain, is now discredited. The advocates of this view are strongly motivated by a desire to reduce the world to one level, to get rid of the necessity for "consciousness", "mind" or "spirit" as a real facet of the world. This materialistic determinism in which everything in the world (including the phenomenon of consciousness) can be reduced to simple interactions on a physical/chemical level, belongs really to the nineteenth century scientific landscape. Nineteenth century science was founded upon a "Newtonian Absolute Physics" which provided a description of the world as an interplay of forces obeying immutable laws and following a predetermined pattern. This is the "billiard ball" view of the world - one in which, provided we are given the initial state of the system (the layout of the balls on the table, and the exact trajectory, momentum and other parameters of the cue ball, etc.) then theoretically the exact layout after each interaction can be precisely calculated to absolute precision. All could be reduced to the determinate interplay of matter obeying the immutable laws of physics. The concept of the "spiritual" was unnecessary, even "mind" was dispensable, and "God" of course had no place in this scheme of things. This comfortably solid "Newtonian" world view of the materialists has however been entirely undermined by the new physics of the twentieth century, and in particular through Quantum Theory. Physicists investigating the properties of sub-atomic matter, found that the deterministic Newtonian absolutism broke down at the foundation level of matter. An element of probability had to be introduced into the physicists' calculations, and each sub-atomic event was in itself inherently unpredictable - one could only ascribe a probability to the outcome. The simple billiard ball model collapsed at the sub-atomic level. For if the billiard table was intended as a picture of a small region of space on the atomic scale and each ball was to be a particle (an electron, proton, or neutron, etc.), then physicists came to realise that this model could not represent reality on that level. For in Quantum theory one could not define the position and momentum of a particle both at the same moment. As soon as we establish the parameters of motion of a body its position is uncertain and can only be described mathematically as a wave of probability. Our billiard table dissolved into a fluid ever-moving undulating surface, with each ball at one moment focussed to a point then at another dissolving and spreading itself out over an area of the space of the table. Trying to play billiards at this sub-atomic level was rather difficult. In the Quantum picture of the world, each individual event cannot be determined exactly, but has to be described by a wave of probability. There is a kind of polarity between the position and energy of any particle in which they cannot be simultaneously determined. This was not a failing of experimental method but a property of the kinds of mathematical structures that physicists have to use to describe this realm of the world. The famous equation of Quantum theory embodying Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle is : Planck's constant = (uncertainty in energy) x (uncertainty in position) Thus if we try to fix the position of the particle (i.e. reduce the uncertainty in its position to a small factor) then as a consequence of this equation the uncertainty in the energy must increase to balance this, and therefore we cannot find a value for the energy of the particle simultaneous with fixing its position. Planck's constant being very small means that these factors only become dominant on the extremely small scale, that is within the realm of the atom. So we see that the Quantum picture of reality has at its foundation a non-deterministic view of the fundamental building blocks of matter. Of course, when dealing with large masses of particles these quantum indeterminacies effectively cancel each other out, and physicists can determine and predict the state of large systems. Obviously planets, suns, galaxies being composed of large numbers of particles do not exhibit any uncertainty in their position and energies, for when we look at such large aggregates as a totality, the total quantum uncertainties of the system reduces to zero, and in respect to their large scale properties can effectively be treated as deterministic systems. Thus on the large scale we can effectively apply a deterministic physics, but when we wish to look in detail at the properties of the sub-atomic realm, lying at the root and foundation of our world, we must enter a domain of quantum uncertainties and find the neat ordered picture dissolving into a sea of ever flowing forces that we cannot tie down or set into fixed patterns. Some people when faced with this picture of reality find comfort in dismissing the quantum world as having little to do with the "real world" of appearances. We do not live within the sub-atomic level after all. However, it does spill out into our outer world. Most of the various electronic devices of the past decades rely on the quantum tunnelling effect in transistors and silicon chips. The revolution in quantum physics has begun to influence the life sciences, and biologists and botanists are beginning to come up against quantum events as the basis of living systems, in the structure of complex molecules in the living tissues and membranes of cells for example. When we look at the blue of the sky we are looking at a phenomenon only recently understood through quantum theory. Although the Quantum picture of reality might seem strange indeed, I believe the picture it presents of the foundations of the material world, the ever flowing sea of forces metamorphosing and interacting through the medium of "virtual" or quantum messenger particles, has certain parallels with with nature of our consciousness. I believe that if we try to examine the nature of our consciousness we will find at its basis it exhibits "quantum" like qualities. Seen from a distant, large scale and external perspective, we seem to be able to structure our consciousness in an exact and precise way, articulating thoughts and linking them together into long chains of arguments and intricate structures. Our consciousness can build complex images through its activity and seems to have all the qualities of predictability and solidity. The consciousness of a talented architect is capable of designing and holding within itself an image of large solid structures such as great cathedrals or public buildings. A mathematician is capable of inwardly picturing an abstract mathematical system, deriving its properties from a set of axioms. A solo cellist is able to hold the whole musical structure of a Elgar's Cello Concerto or Bach's Cello Suites in his or her consciousness when preparing for a performance. In this sense our consciousness might appear as an ordered and deterministic structure, capable of behaving like and being explicable in the same terms as other large scale structures in the world. However, this is not so. For if we through introspection try to examine the way in which we are conscious, in a sense to look at the atoms of our consciousness, this regular structure disappears. Our consciousness does not actually work in such an ordered way. We only nurture an illusion if we try to hold to the view that our consciousness is at root an ordered deterministic structure. True, we can create the large scale designs of the architect, the abstract mathematical systems, a cello concerto, but anyone who has built such structures within their consciousness knows that this is not achieved by a linear deterministic route. Our consciousness is at its root a maverick, ever moving, jumping from one perception, feeling, thought, to another. We can never hold it still or focus it at a point for long. Like the quantum nature of matter, the more we try to hold our consciousness to a fixed point, the greater the uncertainty in its energy will become. So when we focus and narrow our consciousness to a fixed centre, it is all the more likely to suddenly jump with a great rush of energy to some seemingly unrelated aspect of our inner life. We all have such experiences each moment of the day. As in our daily work we try to focus our mind upon some problem only to sudddenly experience a shift to some other domain in ourselves, another image or emotional current intrudes then vanishes again, like an ephemeral virtual particle in quantum theory. Those who begin to work upon their consciousness through some kinds of meditative exercises will experience these quantum uncertainties in the field of consciousness in a strong way. In treating our consciousness as if it were a digital computer or deterministic machine after the model of 19th century science, I believe we foster a limited and false view of our inner world. We must now take the step towards a quantum view of consciousness, recognising that at its base and root our consciousness behaves like the ever flowing sea of the sub-atomic world. The ancient hermeticists pictured consciousness as the "Inner Mercury". Those who have experienced the paradoxical way in which the metal Mercury is both dense and metallic and yet so elusive, flowing and breaking up into small globules, and just as easily coming together again, will see how perceptive the alchemists were of the inner nature of consciousness, in choosing this analogy. Educators who treat the consciousness of children as if it were a filing cabinet to be filled with ordered arrays of knowledge are hopelessly wrong. We can I believe go a step further than this recognition of the quantum nature of consciousness, and see just how this overlays and links with the mind/brain problem. The great difficulties in developing a theory of the way in which consciousness/mind is embodied in the activity of the brain, has I believe arisen out of the erroneous attempt to press a deterministic view onto our brain activity. Skinner and the behaviourist psychologists attempted to picture the activity of the brain as a computer where each cell behaved as an input/output device or a complex flip/flop. They saw nerve cells with their axons (output fibres) and dendrites (input fibres) being linked together into complex networks. An electrical impulse travelling onto a dendrite made a cell 'fire' and send an impulse out along its axon so setting some other nerve cell into action. The resulting patterns of nerve impulses constituted a reflex action, an impulse to move a muscle, a thought, a feeling, an intuitive experience. All could be reduced to the behaviour of this web of axons and dendrites of the nerve cells. This simplistic picture, of course, was insufficient to explain even the behaviour of creatures like worms with primitive nervous systems, and in recent years this approach has largely been abandoned as it is becoming recognised that these events on the membranes of nerve cells are often triggered by shifts in the energy levels of sub-atomic particles such as electrons. In fact, at the root of such interactions lie quantum events, and the activity of the brain must now be seen as reflecting these quantum events. The brain can no longer be seen as a vast piece of organic clockwork, but as a subtle device amplifying quantum events. If we trace a nerve impulse down to its root, there lies a quantum uncertainty, a sea of probability. So just how is it that this sea of probability can cast up such ordered structures and systems as the conception of a cello concerto or abstract mathematical entities ? Perhaps here we may glimpse a way in which "spirit" can return into our physics. The inner sea of quantum effects in our brain is in some way coupled to our ever flowing consciousness. When our consciousness focusses to a point, and we concentrate on some abstract problem or outer phenomenon, the physical events in our brain, the pattern of impulses, shifts in some ordered way. In a sense, the probability waves of a number of quantum systems in different parts of the brain, are brought into resonance, and our consciousness is able momentarily to create an ordered pattern that manifests physically through the brain. The thought, feeling, perception is momentarily earthed in physical reality, brought from the realm of the spiritually potential into outer actuality. This focussed ordering of the probability waves of many quantum systems requires an enormous amount of energy, but this can be borrowed in the quantum sense for a short instant of time. Thus we have through this quantum borrowing a virtual quantum state which is the physical embodiment of a thought, feeling, etc. However, as this can only be held for a short time, the quantum debt must be paid and the point of our consciousness is forced to jump to some other quantum state, perhaps in another region of the brain. Thus our thoughts are jumbled up with emotions, perceptions, fantasy images. The central point within our consciousness, our "spirit" in the hermetic sense, can now be seen as an entity that can work to control quantum probabilities. To our "spirits" our brain is a quantum sea providing a rich realm in which it can incarnate and manifest patterns down into the electrical/chemical impulses of the nervous system. (It has been calculated that the number of interconnections existing in our brains far exceeds the number of atoms in the whole universe - so in this sense the microcosm truly mirrors the macrocosm!). Our "spirit" can through quantum borrowing momentarily press a certain order into this sea and this manifests as a thought, emotion, etc. Such an ordered state can only exist momentarily, before our spirit or point of consciousness is forced to jump and move to other regions of the brain, where at that moment the pattern of probability waves for the particles in these nerve cells, can reflect the form that our spirit is trying to work with. This quantum borrowing to create regular patterns of probability waves is bought for a high price in that a degree of disorder must inevitably arise whenever the spirit tries to focus and reflect a linked sequential chain of patterns into the brain (such as we would experience as a logical train of thought or inward picture of some elaborate structure). Thus it is not surprising that our consciousness sometimes drifts and jumps about in a seemingly chaotic way. The quantum borrowing might also be behind our need for sleep and dream, allowing the physical brain to rid itself of the shadowy echos of these patterns pressed into it during waking consiousness. Dreaming may be that point in a cycle where consciousness and its vehicle interpenetrate and flow together, allowing the patterns and waves of probability to appear without any attempt to focus them to a point. In dream and sleep we experience our point of consciousness dissolving, decoupling and defocussing. The central point of our consciousness when actively thinking or feeling, must of necessity jump around the sea of patterns in our brain. (It is well known through neurophysiology that function cannot be located at a certain point in the brain, but that different areas and groups of nerve cells can take on a variety of different functions.) We all experience this when in meditation we merely let our consciousness move as it will. Then we come to sense the elusive mercurial eternal movement of the point of our consciousness within our inner space. You will find it to be a powerful and convincing experience if you try in meditation to follow the point of your consciousness moving within the space of your skull. Many religious traditions teach methods for experiencing this inner point of spirit. I believe the movement of this point of consciousness, which appears as a pattern of probability waves in the quantum sea, must occur in extremely short segments of time, of necessity shorter than the time an electron takes to move from one state to another within the molecular structure of the nerve cell membranes. We are thus dealing in time scales significantly less than 10 to the power -16 of a second and possibly down to 10 to the power -43 of a second. During such short periods of time, the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle which lies at the basis of quantum theory, means that this central spark of consciousness can borrow a large amount of energy, which explains how it can bring a large degree of ordering into a pattern. Although our point of consciousness lives at this enormously fast speed, our brain which transforms this into a pattern of electro/chemical activity runs at a much slower rate. Between creating each pattern our spark of consciousness must wait almost a eternity for this to be manifested on the physical level. Perhaps this may account for the sense we all have sometimes of taking an enormous leap in consciousness, or travelling though vast realms of ideas, or flashes of images, in what is only a fleeting moment. At around 10 to the power -43 of a second, time itself becomes quantised, that is it appears as discontinuous particles of time, for there is no way in which time can manifest in quantities less than 10 to the power -43 (the so called Planck time). For here the borrowed quantum energies distort the fabric of space turning it back upon itself. There time must have a stop. At such short intervals the energies available are enormous enough to create virtual black holes and wormholes in space-time, and at this level we have only a sea of quantum probabilities - the so called Quantum Foam. Contemporary physics suggests that through these virtual wormholes in space-time there are links with all time past and future, and through the virtual black holes even with parallel universes. It must be somewhat above this level that our consciousness works, weaving probability waves into patterns and incarnating them in the receptive structure of our brains. Our being or spirit lives in this Quantum Foam, which is thus the Eternal Now, infinite in extent and a plenum of all possibilities. The patterns of everything that has been, that is now, and will come to be, exists latent in this quantum foam. Perhaps this is the realm though which the mystics stepped into timelessness, the eternal present, and sensed the omnipotence and omniscience of the spirit. I believe that these exciting discoveries of modern physics could be the basis for a new view of consciousness and the way it is coupled to our physical nature in the brain. (Indeed, one of the fascinating aspects of Quantum theory which puzzles amd mystifies contemporary physicists is the way in which their quantum description of matter requires that they recognise the consciousness of the observer as a factor in certain experiments. This enigma has caused not a few physicists to take an interest in spirituality especially inclining them to eastern traditions like Taoism or Buddhism, and in time I hope that perhaps even the hermetic traditions might prove worthy of their interest). An important experiment carried out as recently as summer 1982 by the French physicist, Aspect, has unequivocally demonstrated the fact that physicists cannot get round the Uncertainty Principle and simultaneously determine the quantum states of particles, and confirmed that physicists cannot divorce the consciousness of the observer from the events observed. This experiment (in disproving the separabilty of quantum measurements) has confirmed what Einstein, Bohr and Heisenberg were only able to philosophically debate over - that with quantum theory we have to leave behind our naive picture of reality as an intricate clockwork. We are challenged by quantum theory to build new ways in which to picture reality, a physics, moreover, in which consciousness plays a central role, in which the observer is inextricably interwoven in the fabric of reality. In a sense it may now be possible to build a new model of quantum consciousness, compatible with contemporary physics and which allows a space for the inclusion of the hermetic idea of the spirit. It may well be that science has taken a long roundabout route through the reductionist determinism of the 19th century and returned to a more hermetic conception of our inner world. In this short essay, incompletely argued though it may be, I hope I have at least presented some of the challenging ideas that lie behind the seeming negativity of our present age. For behind the hopelessness and despair of our times we stand on the brink of a great breakthrough to a new recognition of the vast spiritual depths which live within us all as human beings. A threefold alchemical journey through the Book of Lambspring The Book of Lambspring is well known as one of the gems from the Musaeum Hermeticum published in 1625 by Lucas Jennis in Frankfurt, especially for its series of fifteen emblematic plates. It seems that this little book was first published, under the title De Lapide PhilosophicoTriga Chemicum (Prague 1599) compiled by the Frenchman Nicolas Barnaud prominent in the alchemical circles around Rudolf II. However, this tract and its emblemmatic drawings circulated in manuscript during the last two decades of the 16th century, as is attested by a number of copies dated to this period which still survive in libraries and special collections today. [Of these we might mention Ms 16752 in the National Museum in Nurnberg, and the manuscript copy in the University of Leiden.] The Book of Lambspring is a short work with an introductory section in verse and an emblem showing a threefold furnace. Following the tradition of emblem books of the period its series of fifteen emblems each bears a motto or title with a verse on the facing page. The Book of Lambspring is a work of spiritual alchemy, has few references to physical alchemical processes, and it seems unlikely that it could ever have provided any clues that might help someone engaged upon physical experimentation. Instead, it is a clear, powerful and extremely useful statement of the inner work of the spiritual alchemist. Its verses point to the soul and spirit involved in the alchemical transformation and its fifteen emblems are evocative symbols of these inner processes. Unlike some other series of alchemical emblems (say the Mylius Philosophia Reformata, or even the Twelve Keys of Basil Valentine), the Book of Lambspring avoids complex layers of symbols, or paradoxical 'surrealistic' images, and presents its message instead through direct simplicity of imagery. It is perhaps this delightful simplicity, joined with the archetypal power of its symbolism that keeps this work approachable by present day consciousness, and ensures the continued use of these emblems as illustrations in popular works on 'occult' and 'mystical' symbolism. Although individual emblems from the Book of Lambspring still seem to touch our souls through the clean lines of their archetypal symbolism, there does not seem to have been any serious attempt made to reveal the structure of its sequence as a whole and of how to work through the process of inner development sketched by 'Lambspring'. One way of looking at these emblems, which I believe we will find useful as a basis for our inner work, is to see the sequence as forming three groups of five emblems 1-5, 6-10, 11-15. Quote
ronthepon Posted February 12, 2007 Report Posted February 12, 2007 Oh my god, what's wrong with keeping attachments? This much matter in the form of posts doesn't do well. Quote
theblackalchemist Posted February 15, 2007 Author Report Posted February 15, 2007 and this is hinted at further by the fact that Emblems 1-5, and 6-10 have short epigrams placed under each emblem, while the sequence 11-15 does not have this feature. Once we look at the emblems in this way distinct patterns can be seen. The first layer of five emblems deal with the different facets of polarities in our inner world Emblem 1 shows us two fish swimming in opposite directions in our inner sea ("The sea is the body, the two fish are Soul and Spirit" states the epigram). These two polarities coexist though work in different ways. The second emblem shows a different aspect to polarities in the fight between the inner dragon and an armed knight (a St George figure) in the Forest of the Soul. In this emblem there is a sense that the polarities must struggle to overcome each other. Next in Emblem 3 we have the beautiful picture of the meeting in a clearing in the forest of a magnificent Stag and a graceful Unicorn. The Stag as a symbol is often associated with the Sun and the Unicorn is usually linked with the Moon. These polarities are to be coupled together through the alchemist's work. Next, in Emblem 4, the polarities are seen in their manifestation as masculine and feminine, pictured here in the meeting of Lion and Lioness. We note how they raise their opposite paws (Lion - right, Lioness - left) mirroring the posture of the Stag and Unicorn in the previous emblem. Quote
theblackalchemist Posted February 15, 2007 Author Report Posted February 15, 2007 The fifth emblem, which completes this part of the sequence shows the wild Wolf and the tamed Dog fighting for supremacy. These polarities are further linked in the verse with the directions West (Dog) and East (Wolf). Thus we can see that the first five emblems show us different ways in which the polarities appear in our inner world. The dynamically opposed though balanced way of the two fishes, the battling of the Dragon and Knight elements, or Wolf and Dog, and the meeting and relationship indicated in the Stag-Unicorn and Lion-Lioness emblems. The next five emblems seem to indicate different ways in which we must inwardly work to unite these polarities in our beings. Emblem 6 is a clear statement of the Ouroborus, the serpent dragon that siezes its own tail and unites these polarities in forming its circle in the Soul. Emblem 7 shows us two birds - one sits on the nest and cannot move, tied to its earthly task, while its partner attempts to soar into the heavens. As the associated verse states "The one that is below holds the one that is above" echoing the opening lines of the Emerald Tablet of Hermes. The next emblem, number 8, the central emblem of the whole sequence, pictures two birds, a red and a white, fighting each other - one above, the other below. The verse indicates that these become transformed into white doves and becomes a Phoenix. Thus at this stage, the polarities fight, absorb each other and are reborn in a new form. The ninth emblem shows us the King of the Forest seated on his throne with his feet set upon the Dragon he has overcome. This marks the inner stage which completes the integration of the polarities revealed in Emblem 2. Now, no struggle with the Dragon is necessary, for the King has emerged in the Soul as ruler of the dark realm of the Forest. His throne also bears fish upon its arms, echoing the symbolism of Emblem 1. Significantly, seven steps mount up to his throne This second sequence ends in Emblem 10 with the image of an alchemical adept roasting a Salamander in the fire. Here the inner fire works upon the Salamander or spiritual remnant of the Dragon, purifying and elevating it, and investing it with a new spiritual energy, till it becomes the glowing living interior source of the Philosophers' Stone, or inner foundation for the solidity of the Soul. This contrasts with the picture of the inner sea of the initial emblem 1, with its implication of the lack of solidity in the flowing soul forces. We can therefore recognise in this second grouping of emblems some indication of ways in which the polarities must be woven together and brought into a relationship through the inner work of the soul alchemist. The first group shows the ways in which these polarities appear in the soul, the second points to ways of working with them towards an integration. We note some cross correspondences between these two groups :- [1] Water - [10] Fire element. [2] Dragon/Knight - [9] Dragon/King relationship. [4] Lion/Lioness - [7] Two birds 'married' together. [5] Wolf/Dog of East and West - [6] Ouroborus uniting two directions. The last grouping of emblems introduce a new set of characters - an old King, young Prince, and winged spiritual guide - and show in sequence the stages an alchemist must go through to complete the work begun in the earliest stages of his inner work. This sequence is rather strange and we will here consider it as a whole. Quote
theblackalchemist Posted February 15, 2007 Author Report Posted February 15, 2007 In Emblem 11, the old King gives his son into the charge of an ancient spiritual guide, who leads him up a high mountain in order to give him a glimpse of the heavenly throne. The young Prince delights in this vision but realises the great sorrow of his father who was not not able to undertake this journey, and decides to return to the old King. In Emblem 12, we see the guide with his charge high upon the mountain standing on the threshold of the spiritual world, the archetypes of the Sun, Moon and Stars around them. The old King was as dead without his son and when the young Prince returns with his guide, his father is so pleased to see him that he swallows his son. This is pictured in the thirteenth emblem. Emblem 14 shows the old King lying sweating in his bed, while a gentle dew descends from above softening the father's body so that his son may be reborn from him. The final emblem shows the rebirth of the son from his father, and the verse states "The Son ever remains in the Father, and the Father in the Son", which echoes Christian sentiments. One interpretation is of the old King or father as the earthly part of the alchemist's soul, or that aspect turned to the body and outer senses - the young Prince or son as that part of the soul that is free to rise to the spirit - and the Guide as the spiritual part of the alchemist. Strangely, this sequence seems to indicate a path of spiritual development which is almost an inversion or mirroring of the christian path. In the tradition of the christian mystical path, there is a sense of the incarnation of spirit in matter, as a sacrifice of the spirit descending from the Heavenly Father to become involved and incarnated in matter as the Christ, to suffer in the body, and to become resurrected and return to the spirit. In the alchemical path outlined here, the father is the earthly King, rather than Heavenly Father, the son is given an opportunity of rising into the spirit to leave the material realm behind, and kneel at the heavenly Throne, but elects to return to the material world and become reabsorbed by his earthly father, who is the suffering one. (We don't have here a picture of the spirit suffering in matter, but of the matter suffering without the spiritual). The father undergoes a strange process of transformation through the dew that descends, and the sweat that rises out of his body. Eventually the son is emanated again and yet they remain inseparable, and as the text has it "they perish no more and laugh at death". This is not so much a resurrection from death as a transcendence of death. Thus this is a process of excarnation and suffering then incarnation, rather than a picture of incarnation then resurrection through suffering. In some ways this alchemical work is paralleled with the christian idea of the incarnation and resurrection, but here we seem to have a mirror image of the process. The Book of Lambspring is an important work that points us especially to the inner aspect of the alchemical process. The indications I have presented here are only hints at one possible way of entering into the Lambspring process. However, as with all such hermetic systems of inner exercises, we cannot entirely grasp it through our thinking and if we wish to work this process we must take an inner journey into the strange landscape of Lambspring's work. By studying the text and meditatively penetrating each emblem in sequence we will be able to experience the symbols working within our souls. The indications I have presented here, hopefully might be a useful map for exploring this process. Quote
theblackalchemist Posted February 15, 2007 Author Report Posted February 15, 2007 ALCHEMICAL PROCESSES 1. AblationThe separation of a component by removing the upper part, sometimes by skimming it off the surface or by wicking it up using a feather or cloth. 2. AlbificationThe making of the matter in the alchemical work become white. 3. AblutionThe purification of a substance by successive washings with a liquid. 4. AmalgamationFormation of an amalgam, or alloy, of a metal with mercury. This term is sometimes extended to mean any union of metals. 5. AscensionWhen the active or subtle part rises up in the flask, usually by heating. 6. AssationThe reduction of a substance to a dry ash by roasting. 7. CalcinationThe breaking down of a substance by fierce heating and burning usually in an open crucible. 8. CementationActing upon a substance by mixing it in layers with a powdered (often corrosive) material, such as lime. This mixture is then be made to react and weld together by heating to a high temperature in a cementing furnace. 9. CerationThe making of a substance to soften and appear like wax. This is often accomplished by continually adding a liquid and heating. 10. CinerationThe reduction of a substance to ashes by heating. 11. CirculationThe purification of a substance by a circular distillation in a pelican or closed distillation apparatus. Through heating the liquid component separates, is condensed and descends again to the substance in the flask. 12. CoadunationAnother term for coagulation. 13. CoagulationThe conversion of a thin liquid into a solid mixture through some inner change, as with the curdling of milk. This can be accomplished by a variety of means - by the addition of a substance, by heating or cooling. 14. CoctionThe cooking or heating of a substance at a moderate heat for an extended period. 15. CohobationThe frequent removal of the moist component of a substance by heating. Often the moist component (or some other liquid) is added and the process continued. 16. ColliquationThe conjuction or melting together of two fusible substances. 17. ColorationTinging a substance by adding a dye or coloured tincture. Colouring can by either by tinging the whole body or by producing a surface coating. 18. CombustionThe burning of a sustance in the open air. 19. ComminutionThe reduction of a substance into a powder, either by grinding, pulverising, or forcing it through a sieve. 20. CompositionThe joining together of two different substances. 21. ConceptionThe marriage or union of the male and female aspects of substances. 22. ConcoctionThe cooking or heating of a mixture of substances at a moderate heat for an extended period. 23. CongelationThe conversion of a thin flowing liquid into a congealed thick substance, often by heating. 24. ConglutinationThe conversion of a substance into a gluey mass, often by a putrefaction. 25. ConjunctionThe joining of two opposite components, often seen as the union of the male and female, the subtle and gross, or even the elements. 26. ContritionThe reduction of a substance into powder only by means of fire. 27. CopulationA conjunction, or joining of two opposite components, seen through the metaphor of the union of the male and female, or the union of the fixed and the volatile. 28. CorrosionThe eating up of a substance by an acid, alkali or corrosive material. 29. CribationThe reduction of a substance to a powder by forcing through a sieve or mesh. 30. CrystallizationThe formation of crystals out of a solution of the substance usually in water, either by their gradual formation from the liquid, or by evaporation of the liquid. 31. DealbationThe making of the black substance of the alchemical process become brilliant white. 32. DecoctionThe digestion of a substance in the flask without the addition of any other material. 33. DecrepitationThe crackling and spliiting apart of substances, for example common salt, on heating. 34. DeliquiumThe reduction of a solid placed in a damp place to a liquid by its absorbing water from the air. 35. DescensionWhen the subtle or active part of a substance is made to go down to the bottom of a flask, rather than ascend as a vapour. 36. DessicationThe drying or removal of all the moisture in a substance. 37. DetonationThe explosive burning of substances on heating, for example substances mixed with nitre. 38. DigestionThe slow modification of a substance by means of a gentle heat. 39. DisintegrationThe breaking down or dissociation of a substance into different parts. 40. DispoliarationThe dissolving or transforming of a dead substance into a liquid. 41. DissociationThe breaking down or disintegration of a substance into different parts. 42. DissolutionThe dissolving or transforming of a substance into a liquid. 43. DistillationThe separation of a volatile component from a substance by heating so as to drive off the component as a vapour which is condensed and collected in a cooler part of the apparatus. 44. DivapourationAn exhalation of dry vapours from a substance, which can occur at different degrees of heat. 45. DivisionThe separation of a substance into its elements. 46. EbullitionAn effervescence produced through fermentation. 47. EdulcerationThe washing of a salty substance till all the salts are removed. 48. ElaborationThe general term for the process of separating the pure from the impure, and leading a sustance towards perfection, which can be done through a variety of means and processes. 49. ElevationThe raising of the subtle parts of a substance upwards, away from the bodily residues, into the upper parts of the vessel. 50. ElixerationThe conversion of a substance into an elixir. 51. EvaporationThe removal of the watery part of a substance by gentle heating, or being left a long time in a dry place. 52. ExaltationAn operation by which a substance is raised into a purer and more perfect nature. 53. ExhalationThe release of a gas or air from a substance. 54. ExpressionExtraction of juices by means of a press. 55. ExtractionThe preparation of the subtler and purer parts of a substance, usually by macerating it in alcohol. The extract can then be separated from the residue. 56. FermentationThe rotting of a substance, usually of an organic nature, often accompanied by the release of gas bubbles. 57. FiltrationThe process or removing the grosser parts of a substance by passing through a strainer, filter or cloth. 58. FixationThe make a volatile subject fixed or solid, so that it remains permanently unaffected by fire. 59. FoliationThe making some substances puff up in layers, like leaves lying on top of one another, usually undertaken by heating. 60. FulminationThe preparation of a fulminate or explosively unstable form of a metal. Sometimes applied to any process in which a sudden eruptive event occurs. 61. FumigationThe alteration of a substance by exposing it to a corroding smoke. 62. FusionThe joining of powdered substances together, or the conversion of a substance into a new form, by means of an extremely high degree of heat, sometimes using a flux. 63. GlutinationTurning a substance into a gluey, glutinous mass. 64. GradationThe gradual purification of a substance, often through a series of stages. 65. GranulationThe reduction of a substance to grains or powder. There are various means of doing this - pounding, grinding, using thermal shock by heating and rapid cooling, and many others. 66. GrindingThe reduction of substances to a powder, usually through the use of a mortar and pestle. 67. HumectationA process by which humidity is given to the substance, usually not by the direct additon of liquid, but by a gradual process of absorbing moisture. 68. IgnitionThe self-calcination of a substance by it burning itself in a crucible. 69. ImbibitionThe feeding of a process by the gradual and continuing addition of some substance. 70. ImpastationWhen the matter undergoing putrefaction thickens or congeals into the consistency of molten black pitch. 71. ImpregnationThe alchemical process is sometimes paralleled with the gestation of a child. Thus impregnation follows from the union or copulation of the male and female, and leads to the generation of a new substance. 72. IncerationThe making of a substance into a soft waxy consistency, usually by combining it with water. 73. IncinerationThe conversion of a substance to ashes by means of a powerful fire. 74. IncorporationThe mingling of mixed bodies into a conglomerate mass. 75. IngressionThis occurs when substances combine in such a manner that they cannot afterwards be separated. 76. InhumationTo bury under the earth, sometimes used to mean any process that buries the active substance in a dark earthy material. Also applied to placing a flask in the warm heat of a dung bath. 77. LiquefactionThe turning of a solid material into a liquid, either by melting or dissolving. 78. LixiviationThe oxidation of sulphide ores by exposing them to air and water. This forms vitriols. 79. LutingThe sealing of a flask or other apparatus through the use of a lute, or resinous paste which once applied sets hard and produces an airtight seal. 80. MaturationA general term applied to identify the appearance of a degree of perfection in the work. 81. MeltingThe reduction of a metal or substance to a liquid through heating. 82. MortificationHere the substance undergoes a kind of death, usually through a putrefaction, and seems to have been destroyed and its active power lost, but eventually is revived. 83. MultiplicationThe operation by which the powder of projection has its power multiplied. 84. PrecipitationThe descent of a substance out of a solution. The precipitate descends to the bottom of the flask. 85. PreparationThe process by which superfluous substances are removed from the matter and that which is wanting is added to it. 86. ProjectionThe throwing of a ferment or tincture onto a substance in order to effect a transformation of the substance. 87. ProlectationThe separation of a substance into a subtle and more coarse part by the thinning or rarefaction of the subtler parts of the substance, rather than the coarsening of the earthy part. 88. PulverisationThe breaking down of a substance to smaller fragments through being repeatedly struck with a blunt instrument, such as a hammer, or mallet. 89. PurgationThe purging or purifying of a sustance by it casting forth a gross part. 90. PutrefactionThe rotting of a substance, often under a prolonged gentle moist heat. Usually the matter becomes black. 91. Quinta EssentiaThe making of a quintessence, or highly elevated form of a substance. 92. RarefactionThe making of a substance extremely subtle or thin and airy. 93. RectificationThe purification of the matter by means of repeated distillations, the distillate being again distilled. 94. ReiterationThe repetition of a process, particularly applied to circular distillation, in which the distillate is returned to the vessel, and the process continued for many cycles. 95. ResolutionThis occurs when substances which are mixed together become violently separated by being placed into a solution. Thus milk is in this sense resolved by vinegar. This process is similar to coagulation. 96. RestinctionHere a substance at white heat is brought to perfection by being quenched in an exalting liquid. 97. ReverberationAn ignition or calcination at a high temperature, in a reverberating furnace. 98. RevivificationThe bringing of a mortified matter back to life, or reactivating it. 99. RubificationThe making of the matter in the alchemical process from white to red. 100. SegregationThe separation of a composite substance into its parts. 101. SeparationThe making of two opposite components separate from each other. Often alternated with the conjunction process. 102. StratificationAn operation which produces layers in the substance in the flask. 103. SubductionThe separation of abstraction downward of the subtle part, as in filtration. 104. SublimationThis occurs when a solid is heated and gives off a vapour which condenses on the cool upper parts of the vessel as a solid, not going through a liquid phase. An example is sal ammoniac. 105. SubtilationThe separation of the subtle part of a substance from the gross. 106. TransudationThis occurs if the essence appears to sweat out in drops during a descending distillation. 107. TriturationThe reduction of a substance to a powder, not necessarily by the use of grinding, but by the application of heat. 108. VitrificationThe making of a substance into a glass but strong heating and sometimes the addition of lime. 109. VitriolificationThe making of a vitriol. Most often from a metal by the direct action of oil of vitriol, but sometimes by a more indirect route. Quote
theblackalchemist Posted February 16, 2007 Author Report Posted February 16, 2007 Emblematic tradition The stream of mystery wisdom we know as the hermetic tradition, embraces many facets. It has a coherent set of metaphysical ideas that continue to make sense even within the currents of present day scientific thought, a spiritual psychology which recognises the importance of the process of change and transmutation very relevant to the present condition of the human soul, and an elaborate system of symbols which can still speak directly to us, and seem to be a map of archetypes etched into our innermost being. When we begin to look at the material of the hermetic tradition we are quickly struck by the elaborate and beautiful emblematic engravings especially from the late 16th and early 17th centuries, such as those of De Bry, Merian and others, illustrating the works of Robert Fludd, Michael Maier, Mylius, Khunrath, etc, which now seem almost mandatory for inclusion in today's popular books on the 'occult' and related themes. Only rarely in such present day popular books are the symbolic contents of these emblems addressed by any meaningful or sensitive commentary, and they are all too often used merely as a form of decoration, or to pad out an otherwise inadequate text. Although these emblems have within the last decade or so been rescued from neglect becoming recognised as some of the finest examples of the engravers art, I hope that they will not become too overexposed and familiar as to have their impact on the soul diluted. In my work with the Hermetic Journal and Magnum Opus books, I have focussed especially on these emblems and tried to provide meaningful commentaries rather than using them in a decorative way. I believe these emblems are too important to be dismissed merely as fine examples of symbolic engravings. Indeed, if we work with them with any sensitivity, we will come to recognise that they possess a kind of inner life, a numinous quality. They are not merely symbolic keys to unlock the mysteries of hermeticism, but can be experienced as bearing a kind of living spiritual force that can still work in our souls today if we are preapared to contemplate them in the right way. In this short article I would like to suggest some ways in which we can work sensitively with this material. Some Suggestions for working with Emblematic Meditation. First of all it is important to get good examples of these emblems as so often small details in the symbolism will be found to be important. I prefer to work with them as individual emblems each on separate sheets of paper rather than bound up in a book as they are then free of any context or implication of hierarchy or sequence, and can begin to reveal their own internal architecture. The hermetic emblems are often found forming series as with Michelspacher (4), Rosarium (20), Pandora (20), Splendor Solis (22), Mylius (28), Maier Atalanta (50), Stolcius Hermetic Garden (160). To begin with we should merely familiarise ourselves with the symbolism of the emblems we have decided to work with, rather than immediately trying to analyse their structure. For until we have fully breathed their complex net of symbols into our souls, initial intellectual analysis usually results merely in our unconsciously projecting our own ideas and preconceptions onto the symbols, rather than allowing them to unfold their being to us. There are quite a few writers who, rushing headlong into an interpretation, reveal their own preconceptions and philosophical outlook rather than truly encountering the inner ground of the emblems they seek to grasp. (A prime example of this is Johannes Fabricius in his book Alchemy : The Medieval Alchemists and their Royal Art, in which many hermetic emblems are beautifully illustrated, but are interpreted only through the authors attachment to a Freudian psychological model, and his text often seems to overwhelm and ignore the essence of the emblems.) If we are to work with the emblems we should initially be aware that we have to guard ourselves against such projections. The sheer density, enigmatic, and at times almost surrealistic nature of the symbols on the emblems allows them to echo back almost anything we care to project upon them. However, I believe we have to recognise that they are not merely mirrors in which we can narcissistically reflect our own philosophy and view of the world, but in fact they possess a living spirit that transcends such projections. So with these points in mind, we must begin by trying to build up in ourselves an inner version of the emblem. Beautiful as it may be as fine lines etched on a copper plate and pressed into paper, the essence of an emblem stands outside its particular depiction. Our initial work then involves freeing the content of the emblem from the paper and dissolving it in our soul. Some of us will find copying or redrawing the emblem, and even colouring in its symbols a useful exercise at this stage. As we work in the right way with some series of emblems, we find we are developing a kind of dialogue with the symbols and that slowly they seem to be becoming a part of our inner life. In a sense we are breathing in their essence. This process is best undertaken sporadically in response to our feelings and inspiration, rather than pushed too hard with the kind of discipline we might apply to learning a mass of facts about a subject, in order to write about it or pass some exam. I find that if I place the particular set of emblems I currently wish to work with, on the wall of my study, or just carry them around as a set of cards that I can bring out whenever I want and spread them on a table or on the floor, then after a few weeks of living with them in this way, even the most elaborate sequences unconsciously, without any stress or pressure, have become woven into my inner world. Indeed, only at the point where we hold its entire complex of symbolism within ourselves, can we begin to work in a creative experiential way with an emblem sequence. Emblems are flat plates, usually square, rectangular or sometimes circular windows through which we glimpse an elaborate world of symbols. As such we are forced by the format to adopt initially the role of observers at a peep show. It is this format that in fact makes the emblems so powerful. In a sense they are esoterically protected. Profound esoteric exercises have been compressed into these emblems in such a way that they remain entirely harmless to those who are unable to find in themselves the inner resources to work with them and bring them to life, and resurrect them in the activity of their souls. This is not so true of some other methods of transmitting esoteric exercises, such as ritual or group meditations, which can often have an unsettling effect upon the unprepared soul. Rituals used in any public context, outside of a working group of esotericists, should be carefully designed and balanced so as not to unduly disturb any of the participants. The esoteric content of the hermetic emblems are not so restricted because people initially view them from the outside as observers, and consequently intense and powerful esoteric material is found openly displayed and yet simultaneously hidden in these emblems. An emblem only comes alive, or active esoterically, when one steps through the frame of the picture and becomes a participant and not merely an observer of the symbolic peep show. Just as the emblem steps towards us, freeing itself from the printed page and rebuilding itself in the imaginative pictures of our inner world, so if we are to truly make relationship with it, we in our turn must step into the sphere of action of the emblem. [At this point I would like perhaps to expand somewhat the concept of an emblem. Although we can identify them as engravings, woodcuts or coloured drawings in manuscripts, in a sense the hermetic allegories found in various texts should be seen as paralleling emblematic material. Indeed, if we contemplate such an allegory in something of the same way suggested for the emblems, then we arrive at the same point where we bear the emblem or allegory living within our being and have to step into the symbolic action to give it life.] We have to transform our emblem from a flat plate into a three-dimensional landscape of symbols within which we can stand. At this stage it will be found useful to begin meditating on the symbolic content of the emblem. Say we have chosen to work with a particular series of emblems and have reached the point where we have their symbolic content living within us. Occasionally, without necessarily any great preparation or ritual, we can slip into a visualisation of the emblems as windows upon a landscape of symbols, one after another in the order in which they were originally depicted. The first few occasions we might fail to get through the sequence without tiring, however, this doesn't matter and we should just repeat this short exercise say once a day for a week or so. After a few sessions, this exercise should become more and more tedious as we are able to easily recall before our inner gaze each emblem in turn, and a point will be reached when we find our seeming good progress is disturbed (in a way in which it wasn't earlier) by symbols shifting around and getting muddled, even though we know quite well where each of the symbols ought to be the tableau. Unless we have had any indication in the meantime through warning dreams or intuitions, this is the point where we step decisively into the space of the emblem. Now our meditations should become perhaps less casual as we begin to explore this inner landscape of symbols. At this stage I find it useful to provide a structure within which the emblem is free to unfold and yet is bounded and contained in the soul. For this purpose one can build the image of an inner walled garden say, or a mystical island bound by a calm sea, or a strong fortified castle or palace, an alchemical retort or vessel, or the enclosed sanctuary of a temple. The purpose of such a meditative container is to provide a space within which the emblem can unfold its symbols and allow us to explore them with a sense of inner security, in that we can at any moment in our meditation return into our inner garden, vessel, or sanctuary. If we chose not to use such a technique it is not really a problem for the experienced meditator, but some people find that the symbols in an emblem occasionally lead them off on trains of associations which leave them feeling uncomfortable or disoriented. Although this is not especially troublesome and will wear off in a few hours it can interfere with our everyday work and responsibilities, and such experiences in fact usually lead to people giving up their inner work rather than continuing to feel dissociated. This feeling is in fact a positive one, a sign that psychic energy is being developed by polarities being exchanged between archetypes. The discomforting aspect arises from it being initially misplaced and unintegrated within the existing patterns of our inner life. It is not possible to go into great detail on meditative techniques and experiences in such a short article, but I hope given time to be able to write at length on these matters. We will find that there are four different levels of working with emblematic meditation. Spiritual existential level - pure consciousness of being Astral - energetic flow of psychic energy, drama Etheric - weaving into life forces Physical - encountering the emblem outside ourselves In the first level we encounter the emblem in its physical manifestation as a pictorial image outside ourselves. We have to take this through our eyes and imprint it in our physical brain so it becomes in a sense a physical pattern within ourselves. However, when we build up an inner picture of an esoteric emblem we find something different occurs from the common process which we do all day long with mundane things we have to remember for our work or everyday life. The emblems contain carefully polarised and balanced symbols that stimulate and resonate with archetypal structures in us. In a sense they begin to send out roots and grow into our being, and at this stage we can say that they have come to life within us released from the dead outer image on paper. In present day esoteric parlance we can say that the emblems have permeated through into our etheric body. Those more attached to physiologically based models of the psyche could well describe this as the fact that the emblem has been transferred from a initial mere mapping of its physical characteristics onto visual memory in the brain, to a less localised pattern of energy ramified throughout our being, free to make associations on different levels. It could be pictured as the movement of the image from the localised receptors in the visual cortex till it becomes non-localised over the two hemispheres analogous to the way all the information borne in a hologram can be found at every point in its two dimensional plate. It does not really matter just how we chose to describe this process to ourselves intellectually, the experience of the emblems coming to life within us remains the same. The next stage of stepping into the frame of the action, can be described in esoteric language, as experiencing the substance of the emblem working in our astral body. It involves relating to the symbols and letting them communicate with us, and at this stage the symbols can dramatically metamorphose, weaving around themselves emotional currents. The emblem often temporarily takes the form of an inner dramatic action, and we will sometimes have the sense of receiving communications or messages from some deep underlying part of ourselves. The symbols begin to speak to us. This process can be disturbing to inexperienced meditators, and it is best if the exercise is pursued with certain safeguards or techniques (for example the meditative container of the safe inner sanctuary). I will be describing some of these methods in a later article. The best safeguard is to have a kind of map or model of the process we are undertaking. This gives us an inner vantage point or centre from which we can temporarily withdraw to consider the significance of some inner event experienced in emblematic meditation. Some present day esoteric exercises use a technique of "pathworking" which is underpinned by the kabbalistic Tree of Life system, so that at almost any point one can gain some understanding of what is happening in an inner experience by mapping this onto the Tree of Life and looking at the correspondences. Of course the Tree of Life system does bear within it certain underlying philosophic and religious structures which may make it unsuited to those individuals who do not wish to work within this Kabbalistic current, and it is not in itself essential for such pathworking or inner journeys. There are other systems for understanding inner polarities and archetypal forces which arise out of the hermetic alchemical tradition and are equally valid. In the longer term I hope to be able to articulate and describe such a map of inner work which can be used to find our way easily through the experiences gained in meditation on hermetic emblems. This stage of moving the emblem from the etheric to the astral realm within us can give rise to dramatic and exciting experiences, and perhaps the biggest danger here is that we cannot readily digest these experiences, and that they rattle around inside our souls making making us feel quite uncomfortable. Such imaginative experiences are inevitable in this kind of inner work, indeed this stage involves the development of just this inner ability of being able to inwardly digest polarised astral energy thrown out by the archetypal symbols. If we persevere then eventually we will come to gain this inner ability, and can then become more inwardly free of the emotional currents generated by the archetypes living within us, which are stimulated by resonances from such emblems. We are then free to move to a final stage of inner work with an emblem in which we encounter the spiritual being that resides there. Esoteric exercises are in essence merely vehicles for incarnating spiritual being. They are devised to have definite forms which reflect in outer physical symbol, etheric and astral substance, a spiritual principle which has a core or essence we can describe as having an immanence of 'being'. The emblems we are heirs to in the hermetic tradition were devised by people experienced and adept in a wisdom of the spiritual ground of consciousness. Each emblem sequence has had woven into its symbolic web a reflection of some spiritual essence, and it is only when we are able to touch upon this level that we can truly say we have encountered the being of an emblem. Hermetic emblems thus bear within them seeds of being that can tinge and transform our innermost essence. When we are able to absorb them in our lower vehicles through such meditative work, like drops of quintessence they subtly transmute our souls and make us glow with inner spiritual life. The wise adepts of the hermetic tradition have left to us their most precious treasure, their tincture and philosophers' stone, revealed and yet still hidden from us until we resurrect them within our being through inner work. Quote
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