Alchemy and Tantra

In his final blog, Giles Oatley reveals the secret to the philosopher's stone...

Throughout the writings of Samael Aun Weor you will find many of the key elements of the formulas of Highest Yoga Tantra, otherwise known as Alchemy.

The Two Trees of the Garden of Eden are the two essential branches of all knowledge. The Tree of Life is the science of Kabbalah. The Tree of Knowledge is the science of Tantra, or as it is known in the West, Alchemy.

Alchemy: Al (Arabic, as in Allah) means "God." Also El (Hebrew) for "God." Chem or Khem is from kimia (Greek) which means "to fuse or cast a metal." Also from Khem, the ancient name of Egypt. The synthesis is therefore Al-Kimia: "to fuse with God."

Tantra: Sanskrit for "continuum" or "unbroken stream." This refers to the continuum of vital energy that sustains all existence, and also to the class of knowledge and practices that harnesses that vital energy, thereby transforming the practitioner.

The Tree of Knowledge (Alchemy/Tantra) is Daath (Hebrew for knowledge), which is the same as Gnosis (Greek for knowledge).

This science was known and practiced by the ancient Egyptians, Aztecs, Mayans, Chaldeans, Greeks, Tibetans, Indians, Zen and Chan Buddhists, Zoroastrians, Sufis, and many, many more. The understanding of the Tree of Knowledge (Daath) is fundamental in order to understand any religion or mysticism.

Books and classes on Alchemy and Tantra are becoming as common as weeds. There is a growing fascination with this subject, and yet, what of it is genuine and pure?

“If you feel that the view and practice of Dzogchen (Tantrism) is quite simple, it is a sign that you have not understood it properly. It would be quite ironic if the highest of the nine vehicles, the Great Perfection, were the most simple. That would be very ironic indeed.” (The Fourteenth Dalai Lama)

The ancient and long-revered tradition of Tantrism is synonymous with the true heart of Western Alchemy. Both seek to transform the initiated student into the ultimate fulfillment of human existence: a purified soul, an angel, a Buddha, a Master, free of suffering and marked by the spontaneous expression of pure and selfless compassion.

While Alchemy is best known for greedy gold-seeking "chemists," there were a handful of real alchemists, men and women who learned how to conquer death, spontaneously generate precious metals and gems, and cure incurable diseases; most of all, they were known for creating the Philosopher's Stone: a magical item which could work miracles and bestow eternal life.

These stories are identical to the tales of yogis and monks of the East who walked upon the winds and performed all manner of miraculous acts.

The Philosopher's Stone is related with the foundation stone mentioned repeatedly in the Christian Gospels.

“The stone which the builders disallowed, the same is made the head of the corner, and a stone of stumbling, and a rock of offence.” (1 Peter 2: 7-8)

The Philosopher's Stone is created by perfecting our own rough and unworked stone, the Brute Stone of the primeval Masons. The secret wisdom of the Tree of Knowledge reveals the science to develop the Philosopher's Stone, or in other words, the Intimate Christ re-vested with the bodies of gold, working with the human soul.

Giles Oatley lectures in forensic statistics, data mining and decision support systems for crime detection and prevention. He has also worked in the care sector for several years with adults with challenging behaviour and severe learning difficulties. He chairs the Gnostic Institute of Anthropology.
Getty
Show Hide image

What David Hockney has to tell us about football

Why the sudden glut of blond footballers? A conversation I had with the artist back in 1966 gave me a clue. . .

In 1966, I went to interview David Hockney at a rather run-down flat in Bayswater, central London. He was 28 and had just won a gold medal at the Royal College of Art.

In his lavatory, I noticed a cut-out photograph from a newspaper of Denis Law scoring a goal. I asked if he was a football fan. He said no, he just liked Denis Law’s thighs.

The sub-editors cut that remark out of the story, to save any gossip or legal problems. In 1966 homosexual activity could still be an offence.

Hockney and a friend had recently been in the United States and had been watching an advert on TV that said “Blondes have more fun”. At two o’clock in the morning, slightly drunk, they both went out, bought some hair dye and became blond. Hockney decided to remain blond from then on, though he has naturally dark hair.

Is it true that blonds have more fun? Lionel Messi presumably thinks so, otherwise why has he greeted this brand-new season with that weird blond hair? We look at his face, his figure, his posture and we know it’s him – then we blink, thinking what the heck, does he realise some joker has been pouring stuff on his head?

He has always been such a staid, old-fashioned-looking lad, never messing around with his hair till now. Neymar, beside him, has gone even blonder, but somehow we expect it of him. He had foony hair even before he left Brazil.

Over here, blonds are popping up all over the shop. Most teams now have a born-again blondie. It must take a fortune for Marouane Fellaini of Man United to brighten up his hair, as he has so much. But it’s already fading. Cheapskate.

Mesut Özil of Arsenal held back, not going the full head, just bits of it, which I suspect is a clue to his wavering, hesitant personality. His colleague Aaron Ramsey has almost the full blond monty. Paul Pogba of Man United has a sort of blond streak, more like a marker pen than a makeover. His colleague Phil Jones has appeared blond, but he seems to have disappeared from the team sheet. Samir Nasri of Man City went startlingly blond, but is on loan to Seville, so we’re not able to enjoy his locks. And Didier Ndong of Sunderland is a striking blond, thanks to gallons of bleach.

Remember the Romanians in the 1998 World Cup? They suddenly appeared blond, every one of them. God, that was brilliant. One of my all-time best World Cup moments, and I was at Wembley in 1966.

So, why do they do it? Well, Hockney was right, in a sense. Not to have more fun – meaning more sex – because top footballers are more than well supplied, but because their normal working lives are on the whole devoid of fun.

They can’t stuff their faces with fast food, drink themselves stupid, stay up all night, take a few silly pills – which is what many of our healthy 25-year-old lads consider a reasonably fun evening. Nor can they spend all their millions on fun hols, such as skiing in the winter, a safari in the spring, or hang-gliding at the weekend. Prem players have to be so boringly sensible these days, or their foreign managers will be screaming at them in their funny foreign accents.

While not on the pitch, or training, which takes up only a few hours a day, the boredom is appalling, endlessly on planes or coaches or in some hotel that could be anywhere.

The only bright spot in the long days is to look in the mirror and think: “Hmm, I wonder what highlights would look like? I’ve done the beard and the tattoos. Now let’s go for blond. Wow, gorgeous.”

They influence each other, being simple souls, so when one dyes his hair, depending on where he is in the macho pecking order, others follow. They put in the day by looking at themselves. Harmless fun. Bless ’em.

But I expect all the faux blonds to have gone by Christmas. Along with Mourinho. I said that to myself the moment he arrived in Manchester, smirking away. Pep will see him off. OK then, let’s say Easter at the latest . . . 

Hunter Davies is a journalist, broadcaster and profilic author perhaps best known for writing about the Beatles. He is an ardent Tottenham fan and writes a regular column on football for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 22 September 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The New Times