Philosopher Stone

20 September 2019

I woke to a Promethean poem this morning.  Unfortunately it faded.  I am left with the sense of a large almost-round grey pebble.  The message within its fall to gravity was the fire.  It is the fire. It was bonded with the flow of water. But water is flowing Stone. The water which flows as Stone contains the fire which falls to Earth;  each day a fall of meteorites most of them incandescing to powder in the atmosphere – Air; these primordial processes prevail regardless of small human guilt.

The Stone is in my hand and its weight flies into the infinite core fractal of interior space, and inside each of Jim Ede’s pebbles is God.  This is noticed through the anguished human claptrap.

Two realities reside here: one, that we humans spoil the earth, and the other: how can we so arrogantly presume to?  It is in Gaia’s destiny to clear some of her surface areas for a time and alter the climate composition. As our Solar system moves deeper into the Photon belt, each organism is aware and agitated through changes in the DNA.

This is an unusual and Holistic idea. The substance or impression of Holistic ideas transcends – is greater than their composition.   Their composition – how they print out – is subject to the interpretation: the words.

The substance, the dimensional weight falling through my body however – this is true, and it is what I call transmission, reception of the Promethean fire.


Let it do its work.  Through countless receiving channels it is spelled out into this or that interpretation.  Generally speaking there is agreement, that when we fully embrace and accept responsibility with our suffering, there is joy.  There is unexpected, boundless joy, whatever appears to go on, or apparently engulfs it. Where one spark is covered for a time, another shines out.  Watch a glowing fire in the hearth; it whispers along the wood like a slow snake.

Human beings need to suffer from their rattling thought and its environmental disorders, disasters and creation of deserts, in order to begin to step free from this convention mind – to work with and as Nature, Gaia, not against.

“To begin to” is the operative word here.  Fixed holding-positions get left behind.  Awaken into prayer and progress with the day, again and again and again and again;  recreate the Power of Creation. An infinitesimal neutrino penetrates the leaden shield into the star; from star to star … again comes around the Promethean gift of Fire, the spark within each of us planted; the phoenix bird of song and light and joy in the recovery and resurrection:  “I am the Resurrection and the Light.”  “I am the love of the Light.”  “I am the core of Love itself.”  “Let there be Light.”

Coursing the sap in stem, nectar aflame,
each power to one beloved nadi clings.
The force through spine’s sushumna sings
‘All presence’, ‘Heart’s ocean’, ‘Swan of peace’, ‘Supreme’.*

As Her light pervades my body, I am detached;
my form as Self, Self and the world are matched

* – In one of my Ramana Gita sonnets, these are names roughly corresponding to atma nadi (Self), para nadi (that which is beyond manifestation) and amrita nadi (nectar of immortality) in the text.  The nadis are the meridian map within the Yogic body.]

phoenix bird of fire


The alchemist blows a little on the banked fire, and it glows.   The breath. The body.

In a stone-age cave, the warming flame flows along the log like lava, like water with Light which is air and the Earth’s solar core.  Everything, each and every phenomenon has this potential (See the link to “beyondhumanstories” further down this post) …  within the plastics and perverted materials, nothing is other than the core.  Sooner or later it returns to the core, as technologies arise to biodegrade our unconscious waste, for we become conscious, first individually here and there, and then collectively as a tide through tipping-point.  Alchemists are able to quicken the interior process, and to see above the tide.  Wherever an alchemist is at work, the environment blossoms.  Alchemists are gardeners.  We potter and we ponder and we fish.


The slow fire along the log burns out old Karma and all its fascination and even beauty.  It cleanses the slate, to the horror and grief of all who saw and were aware of, for instance, the burning of the Amazon forest. A cruel human may have caused it or encouraged it to spread; but it was to be.  It shocks and burns the soul.  It starves further the respiration’s resources.  The respiration is the whole planetary balance and swirl of currencies and weathers.  Why is this happening?

I think the new human will have, and has already a bond with nature, with creature, fish, plant, tree and rock which we used to plunder and exploit and harm.  The new human is so deeply, painfully connected with what she harmed that she plays into the restorative power of transmutation and the burgeoning of Life.  Humankind is no longer separate from the forest and creatures of the field, no longer separate from the seas, no longer a player of golf.

The new human re-learns the ancient unifying magic;  the art begins where nature ceases to act.  Already this is developing as a fact.   Those who despaired and yet were willing to hope, drop away from the old system. They begin to work with the Sun, creating local solar technologies.  They nurture the family and patterns of relationships.  Relationships are geometries and sacred forms and problems of harmony.  With the ripple effect, they enter and inspire one another.

A drawing from Douglas Harding’s ‘Hierarchy of Heaven and Earth’

I wanted to say … concentric waves or ripples.  Where the Stone falls and breaks surface, there is a centrifugal ripple: concentric rings.   These move subtly through immediate society and communities, creating further impacts and their rings.  Watch a fall of rain on the pond.  I don’t publish 99% of my work because it could be misunderstood.  I am not totally sure of it myself, or of peoples’ capacity to misinterpret and to twist.  The Stone goes on and on falling into my fractal core and there is no time to stop and buff it up into shape to pass through the gate; for always it comes.  I trust that where I work, the Companions of the Light take care of it. Their power to reach the ground and to start a wave passes through where I sit and write it down, and travels to other antennae.  I write the same thing over and over and over for the telegraph wire.  I’m a starling sitting on it.  There is never enough of it.  I write and sing so others unseen are inspired.  There are notes that travel above and below the standard spectrum; the invisible octaves of the ground of being.

Starling & murmuration – Image from allaboutbirds

While I was cleaning the house upstairs yesterday, Genevieve’s conversation with Paula Aamli ( uplifted and helped me to turn to face my pain; for Paula discovered – through facing hers – that though the present human engine is destroying its future, there is an unexpected response of joy, gratitude, discovery and noticing the infinite resource of life even in a walled in city garden, and certainly within the soul’s courage.  There is more to this than we know.

It is the infinitesimal fractal potency of the small!  The 9thGene key is called the Power of the Infinitesimal.  Beauty is the story, the dimension which cuts through every science.

Brancusi’s Prometheus on Bechstein, Kettle’s Yard

I was told long ago, in 1969: Your beautiful thoughts are not enough.  The stuff of beauty is sterner.  The way is to evoke and inspire that beauty in someone else.   Ah, but I see today, the beautiful thoughts are, and create the Way.  The beauty didn’t come into my hand like soap.  It had to be worked for, leaned into and with, discovered, suffered, recreated.

The new chapter is respirational, back and forth, in and out.  When the old breath is done it dulls and expires: the new breath coming in underneath it be-stirs things.  So rises and falls the Tao in our world.


When I woke this morning with the Promethean poem I lay for a while listening to the hammering builders who’ve taken off a roof, up the road.  I could just hear the dark yammer of their radio.  Listening to radio news and watching media is a yammering, de-sensitising skin which most of us wear. It reinforces the screen of isn’t it all dreadful and bad, and it deadens the feeling.  Journalists are able to witness and report horrors with this leaden blanket.  I don’t have that protective numbness.  The Guardians force me in this way to stay sensitive.  I don’t read the papers or watch the media. My ear is to the ground; I pick up what I need to know.  The human commentary on atrocity and damage and guilt, is more than I can bear.   Many of us walk with only one side of our bodies and half of our brains and heavy clouds in our heart and loins.  I used to have dreams about only being able to walk with one foot, the other was tightly curled up asleep underneath.

The Tarot key that intuitively blossoms today is the 8th– Soul strength, the woman guiding the lion to sing and to speak.  “Make your pattern accurate, profound, honest, courageous.”

It is another such beautiful September day, this morning, sharp and fresh.  Water, stone, meteorite – recollect that vast numbers of comets and meteorites and cosmic bodies are  petrified water.  Water of Life.

The Stone warms up to flow as water with the fire inside.




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My adventure invites fellow travellers. I am a poet, an artist and a seer. I welcome conversation among the PHILO SOFIA, the lovers of wisdom. See also Aquariel

All art and creative writing in this blog is copyright © Janeadamsart 2012-2019. May not be used for commercial purposes. May be used and shared for non-commercial means with credit to Jane Adams and a link to the web address



Watershed Tales -The Tree is a Fountain: The Man in the Ravine

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This post, and the next few – though probably not consecutively – will include a story from my Watershed collection.   In the mid 1970s I went through a very difficult time, which flowered at night – or under earth – into hundreds of vivid dreams, many of them visionary.

I wrote them all down, and years later, began to de-code and compose some of them into stories.  They became my experiential laboratory; the archetypes arose. 

I call it the Watershed, because it is like a mountain ridge.  The “waters” from it, irrigate the channels of my whole life and landscape around it, far into the past and future.  Because of the Watershed, I don’t perceive a life-time as a linear progress, but as a solar orbital system:  a sphere.  A pulse.

My spacetime diagram is of a leaf dropped on water: the concentric ripple.  The same are soundwaves, light cones, and the Watershed: from which the events of a lifetime descend and flow to manifest in all directions …the way a tree grows.   We are not normally sensitive enough or “programmed” to detect the wavelengths of warning and encouragement which come from “future” wisdom.  But they are there!  and hindsight always reveals them.

A peak of intensity in any lifetime irradiates the past and future equally.  It is that life’s gravitational centre and purpose to be.  It is like the circling beam of a lighthouse.

Thus we are seen from “Above” – like ourselves looking down at rain-circles on the lake.


Comprehending this, is in the way we breathe consciously.  What is the fountain breath?

The fountain breath is this, in whatever shape or teaching it takes, up and down, root and shoot.

Invoking the very best in life:  peace to all beings:  a prayer for a friend in pain, or those in the storm:  a drawing together of the Great Work … light the candle, focus the third eye, and stretch open armed  a Tree, a Chalice, an Albion witch, moving a little with the dancing Ch’i.

The Tree’s branches receive the sun.  The sun bedews and sparkles in them.  The sunlight trickles down them into the trunk.  The trunk with all its oaky bark flowing upward is a fountain, resplendent from the ground.   This is “meditation”.

tree diva

Think of the trees everywhere now, whose leaves turn gold and fall, preparing for the winter nude, the cold deep dark waters of polar tide – the tide beneath the waves;  receive back into essence the wet, wild kingdom, Mother Ceres of the tiny seeds that grow – Persephone in Hades – in the ground.

Ceres & John 

Drenched I am with the rain, the frost and sea salt, dark and drenched and wet my wood:  and vibrant is my capillary in the sky, its leafy burden shed.  Vibrant are my fingers in the silver sky – the throbbing of the festival.


Here is one of my Stories of Life – 

“The Man in the Ravine” …  Dreams No.189  27 September 1975

Events led me down the valley into this very deep ravine.

It is like the tale of the Water of Life.   Three princes set out to find the Water of Life for their sick father.  The first two were walled up in a ravine along the way because of their churlish behaviour.   Others, I know, have been here before me,  and come to grief.   Perhaps I’ve come here to find out what happened to them.

The ravine had sheer high cliffs that walled it around three sides.   It was a cul de sac.  So deep down was it enclosed that in here it was always night or a very murky twilight.  If you looked far up, right up the mountain walls, you could see daylight or the sinking sun.   But the base of the ravine was not much larger than the floor of a large room or hall.   To reach its depths you went down a natural stairway of rock, a kind of ramp.   Over the floor of the ravine you had to pick your way over the mud and over the puddles of water murkily shining.   It had a warm and velvety miasma.   I explored it carefully.   I had to cover the whole of it or reach the enclosing wall over on the far side, what was I looking for?   Because assuredly I was seeking out something.   What happened to those poor fools right down in this darkness from whence if you looked up the walls you could see, like a great rose, the day above?   The place was repugnant.

Suddenly I stepped in some soft mud and was sinking.   I had waded into one of those bogs that suck you down and down into the morass to drown.   I fell full length on the mud and struggled to get my right foot free of the all-enveloping ooze, and I succeeded.   I pulled myself out.   Then I went over to the right side of the ravine where there were some big stagnant puddles, and began to wash my feet and sandals which were covered with sticky smelly mud.   From there I watched the bog where I had almost sunk.   It was displaying a curious activity.   A sort of waterspout or turbulence of liquid mud began to jet out of it like a fountain.   Out of that unrest came a small solidity, a box or a square tin;  it fell and lay upon the quivering mud.   Then out of that mud came a man!

A man lived here, within the mud, within the bottomless floor of the ravine.   He emerged, a stocky sort of man.   The place had been disturbed by a question, and out he came.   It was extraordinary that he should live and breathe down under the mud.   He had a malign power.

We had a conversation, him by his bog-hole and me by the puddles where I’d been cleaning my feet.  He is a sorceror.   He causes in me very strange physical changes.  A certain look from his eye immobilizes all my nerve.   I can see him a little.   Stocky, squat, with dark curling hair.   The lines of his face flow downward.

“What is in the box?”   I ventured to wonder.

“I am,”  he said.

That makes perfect sense.   The box is discarded.   It contains me.   The mud erupting flies apart into disjointed brown crescents of time.  Between them are swirls of chaos.   The newborn cannot read the signs.   Lots of animals live down here.   My right arm has gone.   But now I have three heads,  and I see and believe in a different world from each one of them.   I am terrified.   But I have been told to open to my fear.   Now I am an animal, a creature I do not know.   Now I have branches like lopped limbs from a tree.   This branch waves from one of the rock walls of the ravine.  But this one too is deep in the silty floor.   Yet another strains in the sky in a great bolt of wind.   All over the ravine is scattered the (w)hole not I.   It is the darkness.   It is the vivid strength of the man in the mud, his trident, his trident touches and jerks me into three-plane being.

I am the Great Cat.   I am the life that runs in cold metallic vein through the fish.  I run like a rat, the colour of the ground.   I am the bull and the goat and the twins.   We are having a kind of conversation, him by his bog-hole and me …  ah yes, that is it,  he has stopped the time.   The quintessence of each animal spirit broods in this place where no beginning ends.   “You are too mercurial …”  but my shoulder has burst.   I cannot describe it.   I fall yet I stand.   I have no control over any of these changes that succeed one another rapidly as air.   They are all in his alien hand, whatever he draws or gestures,  that I form,  and then form un-begun suddenly an owl.   The bird is shrieking.   The form like soft clay silent is putty and quicksilver in his alien hand, my penance.   This is not me.   It is according to his powers.   I accept this, for I trust him.   I have no choice but to trust him.   There is no other way save submission to these curious disturbances and transformations.   Some of them are painful like fire and blood.   Some are nauseating, and some are cataracts of water:   it is a tempest buried in earth.   This is where I am.   I am here with this man of the bog and his powers, and that is that.

That is clay on the potter’s wheel.   That is the bed of the river.

“Water,”  I said to him  “the Water of Life.”   (I think the others were devoured by the bog).

“You are their successor,”  he replies  “but you didn’t succumb you know, to what drowned them”  “What was that?”   “It was the walls you know.   Walls they rode themselves into, grew up around them.  These people were interested only in their own ends.   You must pay the price.   But we can speak.   Here we may speak.   There never was any prince with whom I could hold conversation.  This is unique you know.   You must stay.   You are the first of them returned.   So I must hold you here.”   And thrice with his wand he struck me.  Water gushed from this rock, this matter.   Life.   Cried out.

I am the prisoner of the man of the bog who till now killed everyone,  the wrestler without a friend.   The angel is all of the night.   A curious friendship seems to be developing between us.  In this dim grey light we became close.   He came over to the puddles where I am and I stroked his arm a little, to teach myself to like him.   He didn’t bite.   He didn’t stomach-sickeningly change me into anything else.   He emerged, a stocky sort of man, so darkly invincible that my strange commitment to him must be total, else I die in darkness, unseen.   I surrendered.  There is no escape from the ravine.

Once he told me, gesturing skyward, that in the east with dawn, there rises the lotus of a thousand petals white and pure.   It floats over the azure sky, the tip of every petal blushes with gold, but earth dark,  deep and dank holds her underwater root.   He said that in the west this flower sets.   It furls into a great rose, rosy red song of the heart, the scent of the Spirit.   I have to learn to love and obey the one who reveals to me such things.   He is stronger than me.   Many of me that came down here before, have come to grief, and are prisoners.   My bond with him may release them.   “You are their ransom,” he said “if you survive.   There are more to come, Proserpine.”

Whether or not I wanted to escape from the ravine, I cannot now remember, nor what I did in captivity.   I know only what the hostage knows.   He was stronger than me.



This post combines a Pluto initiation with the fountaining tree of life.  The pictures and images for this, proceed in waves, an alternating current.

Tree lovers, Quantock hills

Dark Hades and Persephone the day.



Trees love, by a creek in Arizona



Descend:  look down from the cliff top through trees to Sea – (Alet, St Malo, Brittany 1988)



Stone slab and secret hieroglyph (language) 1987



Hermes and Persephone 1987.

This drawing has many Hadean elements:  three ears of wheat, the Goddess under earth, the ferrying of souls.  The curving spinal column is a “shorthand” reminder of my ancient lizard nature, containing all those souls and deaths of life and consciousness to come – in horizontal mode.  The ears of wheat are seasonal appearances.  Hermes Trismegistos, top left, oversees.



Pluto and Persephone ’87

Persephone meets her subterranean dark lover.  Alchemical engravings often feature a Saturnine gentleman with an injured leg.  I used to see this in my dreams also.  It is a place or a someone where some healing or completing or time is needed.  And time and the way it unfolds and manifests, is Karma !



Plutonic Mysteries (1) 

This was the first time I twigged the graphic relation of the Venus and Mars glyphs.



Plutonic Mysteries ’87(2)

Looking down through spinal chord into a Yab-Yum of sorts.  I didn’t know the terminology when I did the drawings, and had not heard of Kundalini.  The language arose spontaneously.  It was explosively satisfying to create and combine the light and darkness.  I drew quite slowly and thoughtfully in the surfacing storm.



Elephant trees: Alet, near St Malo, Brittany ’87

Studying Castaneda’s books at the time, these drawings explore and outline the space between the branches and the leaves – my defining lesson as a visual artist.



Conference in the  Wind:  Alet, near St Malo, Brittany ’87

Another outdoor study.  Tipp-ex is a marvellous enhancer, depending what you are drawing.

Tree space atoms ’87

Living upside down and inside out like this, was scary and exhilerating – every atom of the air alive.  Space and the feeling of interior and outer space, is the key.  That same awareness implanted the dimensions of the Cube of Space and the Tree of Life, yet to come.  It acts subconsciously nowadays, but informs my life and work, generally.



4our Trees

They form a four-towered “tower of alchemy” – the vessel, our body, the Tree of Life all in one.  For a lucid and detailed guide to this practice, combining Kabbalah, the Grail, Yoga, breath work and Tibetan Buddhism, see The Tower of Alchemy by David Goddard, Weiser books 1999.



Caduceus Tower Tree 2002

Here is everything combined – the caduceus or healing polarity, the Kabbalah Tree, the levels of the Tower, an oyster idea, and a stimulating problem for the right and left brain:  try to draw the solar and lunar spirals, both hands simultaneously, crossing over, without stopping or leaving the paper.



Grail Trees 2002

Sanctus sanctorum:  rose cross:  the trees’ rings:  oyster shell:  pyramid:  pearl


Fountain linga 

A much more recent drawing, done earlier this year.  I copied it from a photo of a carved Shinto shrine in The Cosmic Embrace by John Stevens.  Apart from reminding me of the Fountain symbolism in trees and human beings, it makes an unusual door-knocker.



Tree Spirit ’88

This image combining bud, yoni and encircling growth of time, is in my mind’s eye this week.  It is like a baby’s hand in utero.



The Chakras on the Tree of Life (1992)

There are seven surrounding sheaths, probably for the planets.  The sheaths of a tree become its bark.  They fountain through the crown, and encircle again the root.



Roots in the Quantock hills



Tree seed Siva Shakti Yantra


31 October, this morning’s thought before posting:  regarding cosmic synchrony, with life’s small details.  This is more apparent to some of us, than to others.  The visibility depends rather on the type of astrology pattern we are born into – and whether we can honour or whether we resist what we are given.

If it is hard to see synchrony as a whole, if daily life is frustration, fog and violence – focus on any one event, relationship or understanding, that has harmony.  Cultivate it like a rose in a garden.  Be creative with it.  The principle invites its own, and gradually expands and links to its own – the osmosis of oasis.  It is like a pattern of fields slowly becoming visible as fog or impediment clears:

“the silvery light that gleams around the clouds 
breath taking, undulates 
a floating, patchwork cloth of fields 
whose margin into faery fades …” 

But we have to keep practicing.  That part of life which is magical or wise – it is not just an island.  Keep giving it attention.  The unfaltering principle is Self created.  If I put my money on connectivity, sooner or later the connections appear for real, and are sustained.  It is a dialogue, Self reflecting:  but left to right, always changing.


This self portrait was done without a mirror, with left and right hand simultaneously;  building the bridge through the brain’s sides, subconscious and self conscious, crossing over.  Here’s looking at you!   The power of my left hand, which falters in life, is where the Teachers are.

Profiles welcome across atlantic;  1987

My heart goes out to all whose homes and lives are devastated in the big East Coast storm, and have to rebuild, recover and be prepared.

At election time:  a wake up call.  It makes the campaigning circus look somewhat irrelevant.  Who looks best able to respond? Who has the gravitas and the troops?  Who is truthful and trust worthy in emergency?  Open question.


Elephant sky 1998




The Man in the Ravine” echoes and invoked a certain spine tingling sound – for me – in Liszt’s late piano piece Sunt Lacrimae Rerum.  It is in the Third Annees de Pelerinage.  The music plummets to a fracturing, jarring depth and height: then into the abyss enters a Hungarian lullaby, far away and ancient like an angel, tender as a child – a strangely integrating  alchemy.  My favourite recording of this, if you can find it, is by Zoltan Kocsis; but this Youtube of Nyiregyazi playing it, has an antique curiousity value;  and Liszt’s manuscript is displayed with it.  The link in caps will find it on google, and other interpretations.  Or the weblink, pasted onto your address bar, opens the video:



On the Liszt topic – (see my 11 August post Maestro – Some Views of Liszt) – there is  more material on his and other composers’ work with Rosemary Brown – including recordings and sheet music – on Elene’s interesting blog,  Elene Explores.  (





My adventure invites fellow travellers.  I am a poet, an artist and a seer.  I welcome conversation among the PHILO SOFIA, the lovers of wisdom.

This blog is  a vehicle to promote my published work – The Sacred India Tarot (with Rohit Arya, Yogi Impressions Books) and The Dreamer in the Dream – a collection of short stories (0 Books) – along with many other creations in house.  

I write, illustrate, design and print my books.   Watch this space.

Beyond the Box

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Sarada Devi, the wife of Ramakrishna

“Put to good use, the powers of the astral plane, to reign with heaven.”

Reflect on “conscious participation”.  This is what an artist does, who generates “new” images and astral temples and landscapes.  (Nothing is new – just freshly reconstituted!) All the astral plane’s brilliant beauty and terror and muck is made up of what the human psyche has installed there and impressed to believe.   It is the realm of the embedded Imagination.

On a visit in a dream, when the landscape has that tell tale illumination, colour and clarity, it was travelled in by a soul, perhaps recently, perhaps repeatedly, perhaps in very ancient history.  It is something their life, their delight and their problem made, and it is there for ever.

Similarly I visit nightmare, panic, depression and loss when I am vulnerable or in transition.  And I learn by trial and error solve and coagula – what I truly wish to sponsor, and to withdraw from what I would not add to.   This last is difficult, because anxiety and violence – co-dependency at any level – are truly attractive and compelling.

The Age of indelible inputs which we have now (by cyberspace network) only copies and makes a little more manifest what is there already and has been for unknown millenia – an infinitely expanding backlog.   Governments get all excited and think they can exploit and control it to keep tabs on everyone, and people are furious;  but it makes a small difference only to those who magnify the idea.  A government is no different from myself or any individual.   Any detail dwelled upon, becomes all-encompassing and engulfing – a universe, a MAYA.   That is why sages and Masters touch on life lightly.    “The situation is desperate, but it isn’t serious.”

Theatre Arunachala Vichara

The shape and consistency of “me” is extraordinarily powerful, to counteract and disregard the universal borrowing that goes on.   Each individual is a Clapham junction.   Trains – individualities, traumas and long life histories, themselves shiploading souls containing eggs and sperm – zoom in and out in shades, occupying an hour or a day or a passing breeze.   Learning to identify the moods as persons or flourishes of the Goddess, may help to release from “identification”;  and to begin travelling consciously within the dream…  like Castaneda.

Paradoxically, identification happens when we do not have good, clear boundaries.

The dreamer in the dream!   Which is which?   Visually, we are cocoons, dreamily interacting with other self absorbed cocoons – a mutual fog.  At a party in a garden, coastlines chat to coastlines of the dark continent and cheerfully restrict each other.    “Here be dragons.”

Coastlines meeting socially

The raised eyebrow of Ramana and the sound of water pouring through Skanda-ashram, reminds me to dislodge the cocoon and ask who … ?    Unanswerable!   My “touch-base” with Ramana has no ashram enclosure.  Ramana “who sports in the Self” … helps me to navigate the quicksand and return to space and base.

In bird watching mode

Ramana Maharshi’s life and atmosphere is embedded in my hard drive, with the Tree of Life.   I hardly notice it!   Why did these useful friends get embedded so?   Not by sitting meditation, but by years of hands-on apprenticeship to a craft.   In my case … drawing, writing, and then learning to use a mac to archive things.  

The computer copies the neural mind.  It demonstrates psychological menus and the way the memory base works.    So the screen is fascinating.  It is a self portrait.   It reflects faithfully, our obsessions.   It displays our private subconscious in full view…  to the extremities of twitter fallout.

wood bird yantra

Then it is up to us to select … what to bind, and what to loose.

The universal snapshot is oblong, like a house, a car, a phone.  As three-dimensioned beings, the oblong and – (with a stretch of imagination) – the Cube … is how we view life and ourselves, habitually.   Conscious participation lifts the lid a little.   Conscious participation accepts Life above and below the screen, and to each limitless side; and fore and aft.   Conscious participation invites a larger spectrum.

The Cube of Space.  See Builders of the Adytum for the course work


Habitually the planetary orbits around the Sun are viewed as an ellipse –  a thin slice across a hard boiled egg.

Conscious participation intuits –  “above” and “below” that plane – the Solar system as the egg-in-shell of nesting spheres … feel it, taste it, be it.  An electron wave-pulse enspheres the atom so, and gives it number, weight and significance.   The planets in the physical plane, are points: positions in the Heisenberg position-or-motion principle.   The observer’s consciousness “collapses” the observed into one or the other, and records the observation locally.

 The energy-field of each planet – whose physical globe we perceive – does not encircle but enspheres the Sun.   This concept releases an entirely different information:  such as the elder science of astrology:  the interconnectivity of the solar system with galactic wheels, eggs and atoms.

The concept uplifts the interior life to walk tall.   A Yantra is a cross-sectional projection of the tree of life’s organic and actual growth.   The tree – our body – grows up through the Yantra, root, stem, sap, crown and birdsong, through the seasons.

tree yantra

Truth is largely hidden from the daily grind.  It is unavailable to the general news media and entertainment, because it is perpendicular to our limited sensory horizon.  I do not go along with the idea of “conspiracy theories” keeping the human race asleep.  I know too well the pattern of my own inertia momenta to keep me asleep (by habit), to pass the buck!   It is natural, given the habitual pathways, tensions and comfort zone, for this to happen.   The half-conscious state is indeed susceptible to crossroads of bacteria, cancers, ancient kundabuffer (see Gurdjieff), space invaders and what-have-you.   But to imagine a conspiracy is part of the fantasy.  It has no real substance.   It finds no grip.

Are we not, each of us, responsible to …?   Doesn’t each plant wrestle with resistant earth to reach the sun? – (often over many cycles, many lifetimes.) And are we not buds on the same tree, all destined to open, but not at the same time?   What am I to do, right now?  To pass the buck to anyone else, any country, society or government, is day-dreaming and depletive.   Right here, and no where else, is where the quantum leap begins.

Quantum physics knows the morphic resonance of atomic particles.   Where one bows, or hops to a higher orbit, others distant beyond the reach of light and space, behave simultaneously.   We are never alone.  I am never alone.

Sri chakra yantra

I do accept I am hypnotized by what I am conditioned to believe.  Where do I put my concentration … that is the training –  which in due time, manifests?  Esoteric and occult schools drum in the alternative way, by REPETITION.   By repetition is how we view ourselves from infancy, by repetition a musician rehearses, and by repetition we learn.   By repetition the seasons turn.  That makes the scriptures and schoolbooks of Ageless Wisdom seem very boring!

The dimensions:  point (dimensionless) to line, plane, solid, spatial (after Ouspensky).   The Point, its infinite potential in any direction, inward as outward, is the geometry of the sphere, and is perhaps the fourth dimension.

In all the teachings, the Fourth dimension – the grasp of the Whole – is perpendicular to our time and space, inward as outward.   The box falls open!

A tapestry or Sufi blanket is woven into patterns horizontally – lifetimes:  but the thread entering it vertically, at any point, is Consciousness.    At the heart of the thread is pure lambs’ wool, undyed.

The Tailor of the Dark Field

Needles' eye!   
My heart's thread sews   
heaven into fields   
of day and night.   

The point!   
In fragrant flowering night   
are drawn in paths of light   
those patterns of the bright   
sapphire sky.    

Creating the One!   
Passing through point's eye   
into unbound and brilliant hour,   
I AM the sacred thread    
of dim, dark lifetimes gathered   
O Lord of Caves   
and of the meeting rivers!   

Listen to the sound   
where waters meet;   

my point opens   
the way a diamond   

from Siva Poems, circa 1994



Tetrahedral Tree of Life (1993)

Mouni Sadhu – (in Meditation, chapter 33 The Possibility of Miracles) gave a useful exercise to train the mind to step out of the box:

“(1) Take a small box, a match-box will do.  Look intently INSIDE it and study it, so that every detail will be firmly impressed on your mind, and you can then recreate it in your imagination in full when you are not actually looking in the box.  It is not easy, I know, but no important undertaking which is rich in results has ever been easy! 

“(2) When you have finished with the ‘inside’ of your box and can build an exact picture of it in your mind, pass to a study of its OUTER surface, exactly as you did with the INSIDE.  Check the results carefully, so the new picture is just like the first (1), clear cut and definite. 

“(3) Now comes the actual test:  try to get a SIMULTANEOUS picture in your mind of the inside and outside of your match-box.  If you succeed, you have enriched yourself with a certain enlargement of consciousness, which leads to a realisation of the possibility of higher dimensions. 

“This exercise may take a lot of time (weeks or months) if it is to be performed as intended.  And it is quite possible that you will feel yourself completely unable to perform it.  Then leave it alone, nobody can exceed his actual powers, and it is not essential. 

“Most probably, you would like to hear how a unit of say, the FOURTH dimension may look in relation to its predecessor, the cube.  Well, it must be built by the creation of a body, which will be simultaneously perpendicular to all the surfaces of our cube, as our former deliberations about the three known dimensions and their formation have shown us.  Only a mathematically skilled mind may see such a possibility clearly. 

“The problem is up to you to decide and try it for yourself. 

“Incidentally, this ‘fantastic’ four-dimensional unit, derived from a cube, is often called ‘THE TESSARACT’.”

Mouni Sadhu


Orbits meet




My adventure invites fellow travellers.  I am a poet, an artist and a seer.  I welcome conversation among the PHILO SOFIA, the lovers of wisdom.

This blog is  a vehicle to promote my published work – The Sacred India Tarot (with Rohit Arya, Yogi Impressions Books) and The Dreamer in the Dream – a collection of short stories (0 Books) – along with many other creations in house.  

I write, illustrate, design and print my books.   Watch this space.

Drawing the Sri Chakra Yantra: some early Notes

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The most visited post in this blog is the one which “began” it – “How to Draw the Sri Chakra Yantra” in early June.   This exercise was foundational to my creative projects down the years.  The wedding of Siva and Sakti through the cosmic lattice – whether subtle or physical – is the groundwork.  It underwrites and ensures a healthy lotus.

I discovered the other day, the following sequence of drawings and diagrams, which may be of some interest.

In 1993, I kept (with my beloved of that time) a log-book.  We were laying foundations for a spiritual dwelling.  So to begin with, the two pages which follow are thoughts of the Sun, from Maitri Upanishad chapter 6:

“(1) – the Self bears himself in two ways, as he who is breath and he who is the Sun.  Therefore, two, as true, are these paths inward outward.  They both turn back in a day and night.  Yonder sun is the outer self;  the inner self is breath.  Hence, the course of the inner self is measured by the course of the outer self. 

“For thus it has been said: 

“Whoever is a Knower, who has freed from evil the overseer of his senses, is pure minded and firmly established in that which is locked away from outward objects, is even so, the Self.  Likewise, the course of the Outer Self is measured by the course of the Inner Self.  Now that golden person who is within the Sun, who looks on this earth from his golden place, is even he who has entered into the lotus of the heart and eats food. 

“(2) – Now, he who has entered the lotus of the heart and eats food …


The action of the Sun in all directions, inward as outward


Following this, the Upanishad says:  “There are two ways of contemplation of Brahman:  in sound and in silence.  By sound we go to silence.  The sound of Brahman is OM.  With OM we go to the End: the silence of Brahman.  The End is immortality, union and peace. 

“Even as a spider reaches the liberty of space by means of its own thread, the man of contemplation by means of OM reaches freedom.”


A cutting for the logbook, with a quote from the Yoga Vasishta


Here are the early Sri Chakra diagrams from 1993.  The method is from Saundarya-Lahari – The Ocean of Beauty by Sri Shankara-Bhagavatpada, a translation by the Theosophical Publishing House in Madras, 1937.    The method opens the hymn as a whole.  I tried it out, and simplified it just a little, to understand it.




Note:  alchemical sulphur (fire) is represented also by a triangle atop a cross – see next drawing.   In the “trinity”, sulphur is rajas-guna, salt is tamas-guna, and mercury their balance is sattva-guna.  The alchemical qualities corresponding to eastern gunas are an interplay of elemental humours – dry, damp, ardent, and so forth.   Water mixed with earth is damp:  earth mixed with air is dry.  Each element inclines to fire or to water.  It all embodies prana, breath.   Upon these very basic qualities the universe is woven.

Flame is an upward triangle:  water a downward droplet.  Flame is phallus and water is womb.



A reference to the same interpenetrative law, in the Tao philosophy:  I Ching Hexagram 11 with Earth over Heaven: Peace.  When Heaven-creative trigram (three Yang lines) stands above  Earth-receptive trigram (three Yin lines), they draw apart – the static “Standstill” hexagram.  But when they are infolded the other way round, the Heavenly power ascends through gravitational Earth – the male through the female – fertility – which is “peace”.



This archive is by way of an embellishment.  For the method to draw it yourself, see How to Draw the Sri Chakra Yantra 12 June.


This was used as the logo for the Ramana Foundation UK journal, SELF ENQUIRY.


More recently, in 2008 I drew this version, as part of an Ananga-Ranga series …

The Sri Chakra Yantra, fountain of eastern wisdom, combines here with the Tree of Kabbalah.  The lovers are seated at Tifareth: Consciousness.   Crucial to spiritual development, world peace and all good intentions, is health and loving-kindness in our sexual nature (whether active or sublimated) and relationships.   We are on and in this earth for the Great Work.  The flasks, retorts and pelicans in alchemical engravings, contain the lovers at every stage of the “cooking”.  Their prana breathes the Divine One in and out.




Inner and outer Tetrahedrons. A Tetrahedron is a triangle with four sides. The fourth point is a fulcrum – the dimension of volume or understanding, in any relationship.

The points of the interior, inverted Tetrahedron, touch the sides of the exterior Tetrahedron. Extending through the sides to equal size, they form with it, the Platonic Seal of Solomon.

Star of David/Seal of Solomon/Cube of space – 3dimensional tetrahedron structure



Finally, another newspaper cutting …

… from the logbook in 1993.   “Kate Adie” (celebrated war correspondent) was my bossy persona …  anxious to keep myself updated on the militant-esoterickal scene.



My adventure invites fellow travellers.  I am a poet, an artist and a seer.  I welcome conversation among the PHILO SOFIA, the lovers of wisdom.

This blog is  a vehicle to promote my published work – The Sacred India Tarot (with Rohit Arya, Yogi Impressions Books) and The Dreamer in the Dream – a collection of short stories (0 Books) – along with many other creations in house.  

I write, illustrate, design and print my books.   Watch this space.

A Tendency of Concentric Rings: Violin



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Spun delicately before dawn,   
God's patient web on the window pane   
for catching flies   

draws rings of the seasons' turning wheel   
across the stem of a tall and flowering tree   
through gold star-born sap   
to wooded coagulant, the furrowed bark to touch; 

so also, the Sun's magma   
caught within the ore within earth   
cools to the planet's floating   
continental crust;   

so also, sailing outward,   
the ripple of a leaf at fall   
onto sombre water dropping,   
draws concentric spheres    
into itself, like sound, to melt.   

Under the gossip of alders   
by an arched stone bridge, those   
melting crescents of brief sky   
glide as boats of mine afloat.

Their ripples borne    
are brief chambers   
of a mandala catching time. 

The grain of the wood   
is a river caught in flow.

The song of the maple wood   
was planed and painted with petal on petal   
coats of varnish, each to each year eroding   
until by the brook, it heard and played itself. 

It came from an Italian valley   
across centuries, to a Devon dingle. Why?   
Who know why the instrument   
finds that place to sing?     

A violin that sleeps   
without hair or strings upon it   
vibrates the beloved silent sound   
and from its velvet case awakes.

There is a curved hollow, whose strings   
have that tendency of concentric rings   
by wide and questing finger tip touched, to sing.

If you live in a Devon dingle   
the secret life of alder and chestnut tree   
- (whose rough dark leaves with starlings   
mimic chatter and crowd the stream)   
- is rooted in the silent minim   
like a dew arising.      

Your roots, awakening   
pass above and below the lane   
which rumbles from time to time a truck   
across the water's song.




There are roses on my window sill at fall   
this morning.   
Rose, around the petal crisp, is rusting   
and petals drop, soft touch on wood.   

Wood grain in wood plank flooring   
polished, and mirroring deep light   
is the petal of my sight and being, and I   
can go no further than this   
unbordered edge of things   
which cannot repeat.

The story of my mind is based on repetition.   
The art of seeing has no memory, nor anything   
that ever was not seeing.   

The grain of the wood   
is a river caught in flow ...

From Poems of Eclipse 1999



an elder brother




My adventure invites fellow travellers.  I am a poet, an artist and a seer.  I welcome conversation among the PHILO SOFIA, the lovers of wisdom.

This blog is  a vehicle to promote my published work – The Sacred India Tarot (with Rohit Arya, Yogi Impressions Books) and The Dreamer in the Dream – a collection of short stories (0 Books) – along with many other creations in house.  

I write, illustrate, design and print my books.   Watch this space.

Dark Brown is the River


Paper hat boat, 1988

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26 June 2012

My boat on the brook – dark brown is the river, golden is the sand … – is a paper one, the little folded hats I launch, to flow and float downstream.

I have a vision, a song, a full journey to the sea:  each one we are absorbed in one little thought;  they two are universe-i …  a vast and private matter.

(See the Avatamsaka Tower sutra in my earlier blog.)

Small whorls turn softly in the brown brook, ever flowing, ever welling from the hill’s heart – they are galaxies.   Being identified with “flow”, it is not surprising that pain/blood episodes flow too, until they fade.

The water now – the ripple-crescents are soundless, deep and free of think.

Who am I?  A little twig, little particle carries essential dharmas, and is the waters to the sea.  The waters to the sea, carrying I, are all and every I.  This thread is read in the “library” in a House of the Psyche – but the silence feels it.   IS.

Bindhu point contains every circle of sound.

Like a lighthouse, like a bell or percussion, like a growth of tree’s yearly ring, it pulses and resounds.  The river moves, trembles and merges as the One.  This is everywhere with the rain.  In the heart from whence it pours, it vanishes.  There is infinitely room for more.



How to Draw the Sri Chakra Yantra


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This is my article about the Sri Chakra Yantra, and how to draw one for ourselves.  It first appeared in “Self Enquiry”, a number of years ago.   Readers of The Sacred India Tarot will note, that the back of the cards carries this design, white on ochre gold, the colour of Sannyas on the traveller’s path.

I refer you also to – Rohit’s essay on The Symbolism of the Sri Chakra Yantra – you will find it in his May archive.

The Sri Chakra Yantra with its divine flowering of masculine and feminine energy, is a crucial agent in the creative process.   The Siva Sakti blend acts rather like Ganesha does, to facilitate beginnings.   The Self Enquiry Journal (Ramana Maharshi Foundation UK) carried this Yantra as its logo.   The Yantra appears in two of the Sacred India Tarot cards:


Tarot card 3 The Empress – Lakshmi   Here, the Yantra as her throne, extends through the landscape, her inter-connected golden net of prosperity.


Tarot card 18 The Moon – Chandra.    The Yantra in this enigmatic image appears like a tree section:   it is also the Path of Life, which this threshold deity guards.    Classic western Tarot decks show a winding path between two towers, to the distant Mountain.   The 18th Arcanum conducts an unbroken stream of embodiment, from the earliest forms of life, to Consciousness, through the aeons.

Prefacing “How to Draw the Sri Chakra Yantra” are two of my earlier poems and an article by Krishna Bhikshu, which was published in The Mountain Path in 1965.

            TWO POEMS:  June 1989

Goat/Crab Landfall

Sometimes my dear
though stepping on golden land 
I have still 
the sea in my ear. 

Come forth, comes answer: 
Go into the land, come sea-legs; 
mind not the morrow, nor yester 
year, O jesters, but
step forth 
walk in the land of flowers and mountains 
feasting your eyes, my dear 
about you.  

One step 
two step, like 
a teddy bear, remember? 
The scale of Ursa Major has 
no fear.  Up into the place of meeting 
and piano in the palm 
of your hand, my dear. 

And the second poem ...


There is a point of 
light in my heart, to rest 
in the core of being 
the stem, deep beyond measure. 

Look only within 
to see and be. 
The point of the
infinite deep 
is drawing "I"in. 

My flower face is drawn in the heart 
of a body of God, 
indivisible the stem 
as into a well. 

In my green stalk 
of the watery world, 
the silent star, a point so bright, 
indivisibly, infinitesimally 
pulls me in. 

daisy crystal fire 
in boundless vibrant 
darkness, cannot see; 
she is.



Introduction to Sri Chakra Yantra

In a 1965 issue ofThe Mountain Path”(Ramanasramam journal), Krishna Bickshu wrote:

“Out of the Bindhu or causal state, are manifested light and sound, which appear on a formal plane as form and name.  The whole process of manifestation is dependent on and governed by the shakti who is 1) Consciousness, 2) Desire and 3) Action.  Action (3) is the combined result of the first two, and is represented as the apex of the triangle of which they form the base.


“Although one says ‘base’ and ‘apex’, the triangle is usually inverted, with its apex pointing downwards.  It represents the descent of the Divine into the manifested world.  The sadhaka or aspirant is represented by another triangle with its apex pointing upward.  The two triangles interpenetrate.  In the heart of them is the Bindhu or point.

“All the geometrical figures used in the Sri Chakra are variants of circles and triangles.  A Bindhu surrounded by a triangle in a circle can represent the entire Creation.  But all the manifestations of power have to be realized in the completed Yantra.  The original shakti manifests at each node(crossing-point) of the triangle as three different shaktis, or three primary forms of the Divine Mother.  Each of them has various aspects which are then manifested in the larger triangles. 

“The powers of the shakti are legion.  Cosmically each larger triangle represents a wider and grosser manifestation.  The tantric texts give the names of presiding deities at each of the nodes of each of these triangles.  In sadhana however, the order is reversed.  For the individual, what is in seed form in the first upright triangle has to be expanded by his practice into the larger triangles which represent wider powers latent in him.  These finally lead the aspirant back into the amplitude of power, consciousness and peace, which is the essential nature of the Divine Mother.  The mind becoming one-pointed, merges into the indescribable Beyond, which is the Mother.

“It is taught that the cosmos is in three stages: causal, subtle and gross.  For one of tantric temperament, all this is richly symbolized.  For the advaitin (follower of non-duality) this is not necessary.  The ultimate result is the same for both.

“Sri Ramana, prescribing Self enquiry, also instituted this type of temple worship for those who are helped by it.  The beneficent power he brought into earth is induced into the Sri Chakra sanctified by his touch.  Those drawn to the more elaborate path may continue then to receive his grace, as well as those who practise Self enquiry alone. 

At the installation in the Mother Temple, Ramana took great interest, personally added details to the forms of the Chakra (etched in a piece of granite two feet square upon a gold plate) and supervised the entire Temple construction.  He inspected each stone for the workmen to eliminate defects, and at every stage of the work he was the final authority on form, on the ritual to be adopted, and on the deities to be worshipped.  Before the ceremony, he stood for some five or ten minutes with both hands placed on the Sri Chakra in blessing. 

“After the installation, Major Chadwick who had stood at his side throughout, said “How magnificent this is:  such pujas should be performed regularly.”  Ramana replied, “Yes, but who will see to it?”  So Major Chadwick undertook to establish the Sri Chakra pujas six times a month.  He remarks, “The explanation for this unusual show of interest by Bhagavan is probably to be found in the necessity for the Shakti always to accompany Siva.  It is not enough to have Siva alone.”



On the Method:   The Ocean of Beauty

On 19 April 1937, a respectable gentleman asked Ramana about the Sri Chakra.

Ramana replied, “It has a deep significance.  There are 43 corners with sacred syllables in them.  Its worship is a method for concentration of mind.  The mind is wont to move externally.  It must be checked and turned within.  Its habit is to dwell on names and forms, for all external objects possess name and form.  Such names and forms are therefore made symbolic mental conceptions so as to divert the mind from external objects and make it dwell within itself.  The idols, mantras and yantras are all meant to give food to the mind in its introvert state so that it may later become capable of concentration, after which the superb state is attained automatically.”

(Talks with Ramana Maharshi, p.380)

Shankara wrote a long love-poem on the Sri Chakra, entitled Saundarya Lahari – “the Ocean of Beauty”.  To receive the full benefit of a sacred symbol or yantra, it can be helpful to draw it, and earth its components into one’s being.

What follows is an initial exploration along these lines.

The Sri Chakra Yantra seems to have been given through a celestial comprehension beyond any mathematical agent of the human understanding.  Contemplation discovers an exquisitely asymmetric equilibrium of movement and stillness – a musical note being tuned.  No manifestation in the universe quite accords with our logic or the bound laws of arithmetic.  Everything is a movement towards and into perfection.

In the Sri Chakra, nine interwoven triangles come to meet each other in a dance which is not symmetrical, but wondrously balanced.  This dance is an expression, or shakti, of the central point:  the Bindhu, the formless focus –purusha – of being.  The point is primordially Siva.  The flaring outward from the point to form a triangle is the projected universe or shakti power:  his consort Parvati.  From each point in the triangle, a movement flows out to meet its self.


In tantric scripture, the triangle – particularly with the apex pointing downward – symbolizes the female, the womb.  The Sri Chakra is worshipped as a manifestation of the Mother who both proceeds from and gives birth to, the formless source.  However, the Sri Chakra is constructed from a dual movement or marriage of ascending and descending triangles.  For general purposes, the ascending or realizing power can be regarded as masculine, and the descending or manifesting power as feminine.  Likewise, we see the ascent of our spiritual practice, through the descent of grace:  its fruits.



The Inner Circle of the Sri Chakra, to draw it, consists of :

One Vertical Diameter, divided into 48 equal parts

(2 millimetres each, seems to be a good measurement to use.)

Nine Cords, or horizontal divisions of this vertical line, marked at 6, 12, 17, 20, 23, 27, 30, 36, 42 parts, working from the top down.  Number these 1 – 9 inside the Circle, and let them, as a grid of pencil lines, cross the vertical diameter at an exact right angle.

Five shakti triangles pointing downward, their inverted “baselines” at 1,  2,  3,  4,  5 of the nine.  (This is the female yoni).

One Bindhu point at the Circle’s centre.

This is purusha, the unborn, undying source.

Four Siva triangles pointing upward, their baselines at 6,  7,  8,  9 (This is the male linga).

In this construction, it helps to draw first the Triangles upon baselines 3 and 7.

These – the one descending, the other ascending – are the largest pair.  Encompassing the whole universe, they are the only ones to touch circumference.  They provide the framework for the remaining seven triangles to intersect one another accurately.  These are constructed on baselines 1,  8,  2,  4,  5,  9,  in that order, referring to the illustration for the apexes, and adjusting the intersections by using one’s eyes.  These points or nodes, intersecting three lines, are called marmans.

It is interesting in this context, to note that each key of a piano is tuned to resonate three strings.  There is a natural correspondence with the law of three in all cosmologies, including the play of three gunas in Advaita Vedanta.  It seems that sattva – as purity of sound – emerges from the attunement in relation to each other, of rajas and tamasRajas expands, is fiery and whirls:  tamas contracts and is dark and dense.  Tamas is the inertia momentum inherent in any creative process.  Without tamas, rajas could never come to form.  Excess to either side becomes toxic:  but their dynamic equilibrium is harmony.   The same principle, applied to Yin and Yang, is Tao.

To continue the musical analogy:  the keyboard of a piano is tuned not to mechanically exact intervals – which would produce an actual dissonance – but centrifugally:  from each octave, to its higher and lower registers, in mutual relationship and approximation. In fact, an exact physical symmetry is discordant in subtle plane harmony.  The earthly expression of the subtle plane is a Tao – a dance towards unity.  So the Sri Chakra is a living organism on strings which are tuned and pulled taut, to resonate.


Do not strive to draw exact intersections or marmans at baseline 5, for it is actually off-centre.  The inmost shakti (or womb) triangle on it, pointing downwards, embraces the central mystery of the Bindhu point.   You will also find you need to pull and tug your lines a bit, through the three-way intersections to get them all in place;  it is like weaving a rug with uneven threads to pull tight.  This is not a mechanical process:  but you will if you have measured carefully, get a good approximation, which ‘sings’ as a unified structure.  When the Yantra is completed and inked in, erase the 9 working pencilled divisions across the Circle.


Notice also, from the centre outwards, a radiating movement.  This is revealed in:  43 small triangles (or ‘corners’).  Their outward-pointing apexes make four concentric circles around the first triangle in the centre (apex 6, below the Bindhu, and baseline 5, just above it.)  The inner circuit around this has 8 triangles.  The second and third circles each contain 10.  The fourth which is outermost, contains 14.

These four circles correspond to the Four Worlds of Kabbalah in the western tradition.

Upon the horizontal frame of the Yantra are strung nine “cords”.

They form a vertical movement – the interpenetrating triangles, shakti (downward pointing) with Siva (upward).  The coming-to-meet motion, or love-knot of the Yantra, through its nine horizontal strands, suggests the Unseen Weaver’s warp and weft: the universal play of the three gunas – Rajas, tamas and satvic – through the Divine tapestry.

The Bindhu at the heart of the marriage, is clear, formless source.  The Bindhu point is the potency of all energy, the essence of any movement of mind before it begins to sing.  From it, is generated the prakrti (primal world-stuff).  This radiating or concentric movement, pervades all atoms of time and space simultaneously.  Upon it, the fabric is projected into existence like a standwave;  a pattern or vibrancy.

The radiant movement echoes, if seen cross-sectionally, the rings of a cut tree –  the sun’s action over the years.  But osmosis – the tree’s “invisible” realization – is root and shoot, the growth, seasons, branches and foliage upstanding, and lifts away from the world’s flat plane.  It crosses the orbital rings.  It encompasses what was, is now and is to be.

The world whose surfaces we perceive with our sensory spectrum, cross-sections Reality, like a slice across the tree.  The radiant movement of Sri Chakra should be sensed not only as a mandala or wheel, but as encompassing and extending all directions:   a hologram.

The marriage of  9 interwoven triangles is consummated over a horizontal web.

The concentric movement of the 43 “corners” suggests a dimension perpendicular to the triple depth of our world – being at once horizontal as vertical, inward as outward, immanent, all-Present.

If the interwoven triangles suggest the dual nature of Ishvara (the transcendent Divinity), the irradiating triangles through the tapestry imply the immanent Brahman, embraced in all beings as their One Self.  The “Ishvara” triangles descend as grace.  The upward movement is an illumined aspirant’s readiness.

If followed sequentially, the downward and upward movement in the Sri Chakra leads the aspirant inward to his or her core, to contemplate infinite peace in “Brahman”.  At this point the aspirant attunes to the “spirit-level” of the human soul, which is mostly obscured, but here and there awakened;  for the meditative focus touches universal verities.  The upward and downward triads dive into one another.   The Bindhu glows.

An exact harmonic in the subtle plane marks an inexact resonance in the world of our senses – rather as the perfect orbital Circle of platonic philosophy translates to ellipses in our physical solar system.  Through molecular stresses in the biosphere, there is a gap.  Within the gap we discover love.  The love-necessity is the Mother;  the cosmos flowing out to be reabsorbed in and as the Son.   Gravity is this cosmic connectivity.

This paradox – accessible to contemplation, but beyond the powers of ordinary thinking – occurs in all revealed cosmologies.  Physical science is able to perceive the expansion of the galaxies from an initial point:  Vedic, Buddhist and Kabbalist sources speak in their own ways of the kalpas – the breathing in and out, of God, over inconceivable spaces of time.

The Sri Chakra, whose installation in the Mother Temple was meticulously supervised and blessed by Ramana Maharshi (who was not otherwise interested in religious trappings) delicately evokes the mysterious “interval” which out-stretches the aspirant in life, and awakens a path of enquiry, surrender and grace.

Two concentric circles surround the Yantra.  The inner, consisting of eight lotus petals, represents centrifugal force.  The outer circle is centripetal formation, containing and defining the force;  it has sixteen petals.

Outside these, and outside the three concentric rings which circumscribe them, is formed, as in all classical Mandala construction, the Square with four gates – the world of the senses and of nature  – which surrounds the abode of the Divine.


This essay on the Sri Chakra Yantra was first drafted in about 1994.  The method to construct and draw it, was found in Shankara’s “Saundarya Lahari – The Ocean of Beauty”

Article & Illustrations copyright(c)Jane Adams 1994-2012