The Symbol of the Rose in Alchemy

Alchemy is an ancient practice that involves the transformation of base metals into gold and the attainment of eternal life or immortality. It is also a spiritual and philosophical discipline that seeks to understand the nature of the universe and the relationship between humans and the divine. One of the most prominent symbols in alchemy is the rose, which represents a variety of different concepts and ideas.

In general, the rose represents the process of transformation and the attainment of perfection. It is often associated with the idea of the Philosopher’s Stone, which is the mythical substance that alchemists believed could transmute base metals into gold and grant eternal life.

The rose is a complex symbol in alchemy that represents a range of concepts, from purity and innocence to passion and transformation. It is often depicted as a red or white rose, with each color having its own specific meaning. The red rose symbolizes passion, desire, and the transformative power of love, while the white rose represents purity, innocence, and spiritual enlightenment.

Another example of the rose as a symbol in alchemy can be found in the work of the famous Swiss psychologist Carl Jung. He believed that the rose was a symbol of the psyche, representing the process of individuation or the journey towards self-realization. He saw the rose as a powerful archetypal image that could help individuals connect with their deepest selves and unlock their full potential.

One of the most common interpretations of the rose in alchemy is as a symbol of transformation. In this context, the rose represents the process of turning something crude and unrefined into something beautiful and valuable. The transformation of base metals into gold is one of the most famous alchemical pursuits, and the rose is often used to represent this process.

In many cultures, the rose is seen as a symbol of the divine feminine, representing love, compassion, and beauty. In alchemy, the rose is often used to represent these same qualities, as well as the idea of nurturing and growth.

In alchemy, one of the central concepts is the idea of the union of opposites. The rose is sometimes used to represent this idea, as it combines the opposing qualities of beauty and thorns, fragility and resilience, and growth and decay. The rose is seen as a symbol of the delicate balance that must be struck between opposing forces in order to achieve harmony and balance.

 Here are three more examples of the rose in alchemy:

my altar at home
  1. The Alchemical Rose Cross: The rose cross is a symbol used in alchemy that combines the rose with the cross. The rose represents the spiritual nature of humanity, while the cross represents the physical nature of humanity. The combination of the two symbols represents the unity of the spiritual and physical realms, and the transformative power of alchemical work.
  2. The Red Rose Garden: The red rose garden is a metaphor used in alchemy to represent the alchemist’s laboratory or workshop. It is said to be a place of transformation, where base metals can be turned into gold, and where the alchemist can cultivate their spiritual growth and enlightenment.
  3. The Rosarium Philosophorum: The Rosarium Philosophorum, or “The Rosary of the Philosophers,” is a famous alchemical text from the 16th century. The text is structured as a series of 20 woodcuts, each depicting a stage in the alchemical process. The final woodcut in the series depicts a garden filled with roses, symbolizing the culmination of the alchemical process and the attainment of the philosopher’s stone.

The symbol of the rose in alchemy is a complex and multifaceted one, with many different interpretations and meanings. By exploring the various meanings of the rose in alchemy, we can gain a deeper understanding of this ancient practice and the symbols that were used to represent its ideas and concepts.

The Ouroboros

The ouroboros is an ancient symbol that has been used throughout history in various cultures, including ancient Egypt, Greece, and Rome. It is a symbol of a serpent or dragon eating its own tail, forming a complete circle. In alchemy, the ouroboros is considered a symbol of unity, wholeness, and the cyclical nature of life and death.

Carl Jung, a prominent Swiss psychiatrist and psychoanalyst, explored the symbol of the ouroboros in his theories on alchemy. According to Jung, alchemy is not only a precursor to modern chemistry but also a spiritual and psychological practice. Jung believed that the alchemical process was a metaphor for the journey of self-discovery and the integration of the unconscious and conscious mind.

The ouroboros, for Jung, represents the paradoxical nature of the self. The snake eating its own tail represents the idea that the self contains both the beginning and the end, the past and the future, and the light and the dark. The ouroboros is a symbol of the eternal cycle of life, death, and rebirth.

In alchemy, the ouroboros is also associated with the concept of the Philosopher’s Stone. The Philosopher’s Stone is a substance that alchemists believed had the power to transform base metals into gold, and also had the power to grant immortality. Jung believed that the Philosopher’s Stone was a symbol of the self, and that the alchemical process was a means of achieving individuation, or the realization of the self.

The ouroboros is also a symbol of the union of opposites. Jung believed that the self was composed of both masculine and feminine elements, and that the process of individuation required the integration of these elements. The ouroboros represents the idea that the self contains both the light and the dark, the conscious and the unconscious, the masculine and the feminine.

The ouroboros is a powerful symbol in alchemy that represents the cyclical nature of life and the paradoxical nature of the self. The ouroboros is a symbol that continues to fascinate and inspire people today, and its message of unity and wholeness remains relevant in our modern world.

Rubedo: the Red Phase of Alchemy

After the whitening of the albedo comes the last phase of the Great Work: the red phase, or reddening.

The white phase consisted of an intense process of purification, in which all the rotting decayed matter that had died during the nigredo was thoroughly cleansed of impurities. What was left was then considered clean but also very sterile, incapable of producing new life and lacking animation.

The purpose of the red phase was to make the matter come alive again. This process was initiated with the completion of the last phase of the albedo, conjunction, which was known to alchemists as “the marriage of the sun and moon.”

The rubedo continues this work of uniting opposite energies or elements until the Great Work has been completed.

The first process in the red phase of alchemy is known as fermentation, where the alchemist receives visions and other types of inspiration that will ultimately guide them to the end of the Great Work.

This is followed by a long process known as distillation, in which the alchemist is tasked with separating “the earth from the fire, the subtle from the gross.”

The final phase, coagulation, marks the completion of the Great Work and the creation of the Philosopher’s stone.

Separation | The Third Operation of Alchemy

After calcination and dissolution, the third phase of alchemy is known as separation. In practical or laboratory alchemy, it is the process of extracting what is left over and still has value from calcined and dissolved remains. This is then carried forward into the next phase for further processing through heating, filtering, and sifting through the material. 

During the nigredo, the ego is broken down, burnt down by fire and then dissolved in the waters of our psyche. As this happens, the person undergoing this process starts to become more aware of the complex material within, and is often surprised to find that much of it is contradictory, at odds with other psychic elements and with the conscious personality. 

The third phase of the alchemical process involves the close examination of these psychic contents. Using the power of the logical mind, we engage in a reasonable examination of ourselves to determine what represents our true self, and what is merely an ego adaptation that has arisen as a reaction to challenging circumstances in the outer world. 

Like the others before it, this process can be painful, as it often means recognizing the ways in which we have become inauthentic, betrayed ourselves in order to fit in and please others, or have even hurt others in an attempt to protect our self-concept, our illusions around who we think we are (or should be). 

The final end towards which we work in this stage is the recovery of our higher selves. We seek nothing less than reconnection to what in some traditions has been known as our Holy Guardian Angel or True Will. This part of us is discussed by Carl Jung as the Self (with a capital S, in contrast to our smaller ego-based self). 

James Hillman has elaborated on this further in his book The Soul’s Code, where he refers to it as our personal daimon (as did Plato and Plotinus before him). This is the part of us that transcends our current circumstances, or even this physical incarnation. It comprises our immortal soul, the part of us that is eternal, and which carries the seeds of our destiny into this physical existence when we are born, and guides us through the twists and turns of our individual fate as time goes on. 

Ultimately, the process of separation we engage with here seeks to leave behind the parts of ourselves that are inauthentic. We detach ourselves from the ego structures we once built up to protect ourselves, in order to be reunited with the core of who we truly are. 

Finding Gold in the Shadow

I’d spent a lifetime running

seeking

needing

using

fearing

hoping

destroying

doing anything to fill the narrow, trembling void between

self and shame.

One day I stopped running, and my shame

she turned, and came to me.

She took me over and she held me down

in soft savage embrace,

when I finally caught my breath and

dared to look at her straight in

tender eyes, I saw more beauty and more

goodness and more

grace than I’d ever found

in years of wild flight.

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This is what it means in alchemy to “find the gold in the shadow.” To be able to look within at all of what is hidden, to see and to know the self in its fullness without fear, no matter what may come—that’s the moment when we first die, and when we are first born.

“We know that the mask of the unconscious is not rigid—it reflects the face we turn towards it. Hostility lends it a threatening aspect, friendliness softens its features.” —Carl Jung

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Don’t be afraid to change direction. It might be that you end up finding a friend in what you once feared.

All the World’s a Stage, and the Sun and Moon merely Players

This morning I woke up from a very difficult dream. I had spent most of the night crying in my sleep. Here’s what happened: 

In my dream my dad and my brother were going to all these different events and giving speeches about everything that was wrong with me and why I deserved to be rejected. I sat at all of them, trying to plead with them and convince them otherwise. No one listened to me, and I cried as I saw them give speech after speech on everything that was “bad” and “wrong” about me.

Oddly enough, my mom was by my side at every one of these events with me. Sometimes in their speeches they would briefly mention how bad and wrong she was too, although the focus was mostly on me.

When I woke up, I felt very upset and saddened by what I had experienced over the course of the night. 

What really stood out to me, though, was how my mom was on my side at every point during this dream. It’s really not like her to stand by me (in fact, she would have been the most likely of any of them to give a speech like that attacking me).

So I had to ask myself, what could this apparently small detail mean? I was sure it was significant.

Pretty quickly, it occurred to me that maybe it was my unconscious trying to show me the way my anima and animus related to each other. 

The Marriage of the Sun and Moon

The anima/animus was a concept developed by Carl Jung which in a sense, describes the anima as the part of our psyche which can be thought of as being “feminine.” The anima is associated with the unconscious, the body, and our feeling and emotional states, as well as our desires and needs.

The animus, on the other hand, is believed to be the part of our psyche which analytic psychologists associate with the masculine. The animus is thought to relate to our conscious mind, our rational thought processes, as well as order, reason and logic.

Although most of us within a given culture will tend to have these basic conceptions of what our anima/animus are like, the way that they actually present themselves within a given individual’s psyche is highly personal, dependent on life experience and unconscious psychic material.

I think this dream was trying to show me the way that my inner masculine or conscious mind relates to my inner feminine, or emotional/feeling part of me. 

I saw how my masculine side was in fact very abusive to the feminine parts of me. The “rational” conscious side tends to dominate and hurt the emotional feeling side. It has all of these unrealistic expectations about how things “should” be, and it punishes and hurts the parts of me that refuse to comply.

I began to see how I have internalized the roles that I saw my mother and father play. I introjected their beliefs and patterns of behavior, and in turn had my inner masculine/feminine adopt the same roles within myself.

One of the unhealthy ways in which this has manifested for me has been that I have very little ability to care for myself. I refuse to listen to what my body is telling me, or to accept what I am feeling. 

Instead, I tell myself: “No. You need to work harder. You don’t deserve to rest until you’ve done better. You don’t deserve anything until you’ve achieved what I tell you to. Not until you stop being bad.” 

This usually results in me forcing myself to do what I don’t want to do. I hurt myself this way because I’ve long believed that’s the only way to “discipline” the parts of me that are “wrong” and “bad.” These bad parts are always the feeling parts, that part of me which has needs and desires and wants to rest and feel okay.

I’m starting to understand that my animus does not necessarily possess some kind of truly evil intent toward the anima. The attitude of my animus, in fact, reflects the very same beliefs which my father has held toward my mother. He has always tried to “help” her, but in a way that reflects some pretty toxic underlying beliefs about her (and possibly about women in general). 

My mother has been perceived, in his eyes, as being: unintelligent, even stupid; incompetent and incapable; crazy, confused and irrational; and even bad, wrong, and unwilling. 

This, in turn, is perceived as requiring his need to act to control and dominate and coerce her into “seeing the truth” and accepting the superiority of his more rational and “right” values and ways of being.

Even though this is obviously insulting, selfish and even maybe abusive, I can see that there is a genuine belief that he is doing his best to “protect” and “provide” for her. It is based on a perceived inferiority on the part of the feminine in general and my mother in particular.

Just as my father treated my mother, my “thinking” conscious self now treats my unconscious (my body, my feelings and my desires) in very much the same way.  

It seems to genuinely believe in the fundamental “wrongness” of my feminine or feeling side. As crazy as it might seem, it wants to protect it, and it does so the only way it knows how: by bullying it into doing what it thinks is “right.”  

The psychological rule says that when an inner situation is not made conscious, it happens outside as fate. That is to say, when the individual remains undivided and does not become conscious of his inner opposite, the world must perforce act out the conflict.”

Carl Jung

I’m starting to understand how this impacts my relationships, as well. If I can’t have my inner parts of myself relate to each other in a way that is positive and healthy, I’ll never be able to have a relationship that is any better. 

If I don’t do anything to shift the roles inhabited by my anima and animus, then I will continue to recreate these same roles in all of my romantic relationships that I may enter in the future.

This dream seemed to be the way my unconscious was trying to get me to see what I needed to change in myself before I could move beyond these patterns in my life. 

I can see now that I must begin to make these changes starting from within. I know and trust from experience that if I can do this, then the problems I’ve experienced in the outer world will begin to shift naturally as a result of the changes in my inner world. 

As above, so below. As within, so without.”

The Emerald Tablet

The Archetypal in Astrology

According to Richard Tarnas, the archetypal is the spiritual and energetic. It was originally experienced by human people as “Gods” and “Goddesses,” and described in terms of mythologies.

The archetypal is about the essences and qualities that transcend the human.

These ideas were later expounded upon in Ancient Greece, with the philosophies of Plato and Plotinus, among others. They were forgotten for many years until their recovery by the likes of Nietzsche, Freud, and Carl Jung.

Jung’s depth psychology explored the idea of the archetypal pleroma, the pantheon of archetypal energy, both within and without. It was Jung who recognized that we are in psyche. It informs not only us but all of nature. This is what is meant by the Anima Mundi, or world soul.

It was through myths that man tried to understand and convey its experience of this world soul. Myth, as well as dreams, are the narrative form of archetypal energy. According to Tarnas, this is how the cosmos pours its consciousness through us humans. The archetypes are thus the mediators of the cosmos, the way the Anima Mundi often speaks to us directly of its secrets.

Plotinus says that astrology is like a script that the soul of the sky is writing. Meaning is something that extends and permeates through all levels of reality and existence. We are living in a pan-psychic universe, and if we wish to, we can be active participants with this consciousness or sentience.

The cosmos gives us guidance on how we can participate constructively. The archetypes don’t “cause” human affairs or outer events to occur in some mechanistic way. Instead, it is open to our human participation.

It is as if the universe or nature is providing us with symbols or guideposts regarding the qualitative meaning of our unfolding. We can choose to participate actively in our own evolution by noticing and following the signs provided for us by the macrocosm.