Kurukulla: Goddess of Enchantment, Magnetism and Love

Kurukulla, an enchanting and dynamic deity in tantric Tibetan Buddhism, holds a unique and multifaceted place in the rich tapestry of Vajrayana traditions. 

As a manifestation of divine feminine energy, Kurukulla embodies the power of transformation, desire, and magnetism, making her a central figure in rituals and meditative practices.

At the heart of Kurukulla’s symbolism is her association with desire. Unlike conventional perceptions that often view desire as an obstacle on the spiritual path, Tibetan tantric traditions recognize its transformative potential. 

Kurukulla’s depiction with a bow and arrow signifies her ability to captivate and direct desire towards spiritual awakening. In this context, desire becomes a force that can propel practitioners beyond mundane attachments and into the realm of higher consciousness.

The vibrant red color that envelops Kurukulla is not merely a visual choice but a symbolic representation of passion and magnetism. Red is the color of life force, the pulsating energy that animates all existence. As practitioners engage with Kurukulla’s imagery, they are invited to embrace their own desires, recognizing them as a natural and potent aspect of their spiritual journey.

In Tibetan iconography, Kurukulla often stands atop a lotus, emphasizing her transcendence over worldly attachments. 

The lotus, with its roots in the mud and blossoms open towards the sun, mirrors the transformative journey from mundane existence to spiritual enlightenment. Kurukulla’s lotus throne serves as a reminder that, like the lotus, practitioners can rise above their circumstances through the alchemy of desire. She reminds us that in order to reach the heights of enlightenment we must first be rooted in the mundane world.

Kurukulla’s role as a magnetizing deity extends beyond personal transformation to encompass the magnetism of wisdom and compassion. Her enchanting presence is believed to draw forth the positive qualities of enlightened beings, amplifying the practitioner’s connection to the divine. Through invoking Kurukulla, practitioners seek to cultivate not only personal transformation but also a magnetic field of compassion and wisdom that can benefit all sentient beings.

In tantric practices, including those dedicated to Kurukulla, the erotic is seen as a potent force for spiritual awakening. Rather than suppressing or denying sexual energy, practitioners are encouraged to harness and transmute it into a tool for transformation. 

The erotic, in this context, becomes a metaphor for the intense, all-encompassing passion that can propel individuals beyond ordinary states of consciousness.

The erotic, in tantric philosophy, is viewed as a sacred expression of the union of wisdom and compassion. The dance of passion becomes a vehicle for experiencing the interconnectedness of all things and dissolving the boundaries between self and other. 

In tantric rituals dedicated to Kurukulla, practitioners may engage in visualizations that involve the union of male and female deities, symbolizing the integration of polarities within the individual psyche. The erotic imagery serves as a catalyst for transcending dualities and experiencing the divine union that lies at the core of enlightenment.

By embracing the erotic as a path to enlightenment, practitioners of Kurukulla’s teachings embark on a journey of profound self-discovery. The alchemical transformation of desire and the skillful integration of the erotic into spiritual practice become powerful tools for breaking through conventional boundaries and realizing the interconnected, non-dual nature of reality.

The path that Kurukulla represents is sometimes associated with the left hand path, as are many aspects of spirituality that are associated with desire or with the feminine.

As a result, some spiritual seekers shy away from Kurukulla and what she represents. I know that this was true for me when I first set out on the spiritual path. I was uncomfortable with many aspects of my self and my environment. I wanted to transcend reality, rather than embrace it.

When I speak of the erotic, I do so in the same way that Audre Lorde did when she said:

“The very word erotic comes from the Greek word eros, the personification of love in all its aspects – born of Chaos, and personifying creative power and harmony. When I speak of the erotic, then, I speak of it as an assertion of the lifeforce of women; of that creative energy empowered, the knowledge and use of which we are now reclaiming in our language, our history, our dancing, our loving, our work, our lives.”

The path of Kurukulla, and of the erotic in general, requires that we acknowledge all that is true on all dimensions of our being. It pulls us toward what is most true and alive within us. 

I believe this is especially true in my experience as a woman. I have had the type of experience that is common for many women, in which we are encouraged to deny what is real for us in order to please or pacify those around us.

“For the erotic is not a question only of what we do; it is a question of how acutely and fully we can feel in the doing. Once we know the extent to which we are capable of feeling that sense of satisfaction and completion, we can then observe which of our various life endeavors bring us closest to that fullness,” Lorde writes.

It is in the fullness of that experience that true enlightenment is to be found. It is in embracing all the elements of our aliveness that we can experience what it truly means to reach the highest experience as a human being. 

The goddess Kurukulla reminds us of this path toward an experience of the divine that we may choose to follow if we are brave enough and willing to do so.

The Four Powers of the Sphinx: Know, Will, Dare & Keep Silent

Eliphas Levi, born as Alphonse Louis Constant in 1810, was a 19th-century French occultist and influential figure in the development of Western esotericism. Levi is renowned for his works on magic, the Kabbalah, and ceremonial traditions. Widely considered his most important work, “Dogma and Ritual of High Magic”, explored the synthesis of various mystical traditions. 

Eliphas Levi also wrote “Transcendental Magic”, a book that delves into the realms of occultism and mysticism. Published in the mid-19th century, Lévi explores the concept of magic as a transformative and spiritual practice, intertwining elements of Kabbalah, alchemy, and Hermeticism. 

The book articulates Lévi’s vision of a universal and symbolic language underlying all mystical traditions. Central to his philosophy is the idea that the magician, through the understanding of correspondences and the manipulation of symbols, can access higher states of consciousness and divine truths. 

In Transcendental Magic, Levi writes: ““To attain the sanctum regnum, in other words, the knowledge and power of the Magi, there are four indispensable conditions–an intelligence illuminated by study, an intrepidity which nothing can check, a will which cannot be broken, and a prudence which nothing can corrupt and nothing intoxicate. 

TO KNOW, TO DARE, TO WILL, TO KEEP SILENCE–such are the four words of the Magus, inscribed upon the four symbolical forms of the sphinx.”

These four powers are essential to develop not only in the practice of magic, but for any person seeking to be effective in the world. They should be developed and utilized with balanced discernment.

To Know

The first power, “To Know,” represents the pursuit of knowledge and the awakening of the intellect. In Levi’s teachings, this transcends mere accumulation of facts; it is a call to delve into the deeper truths of existence. 

It encourages seekers to explore the mysteries of the universe, understand the self, and grasp the hidden connections that bind all things. To Know is to embark on a lifelong journey of learning, questioning, and expanding the boundaries of consciousness.

In terms of practical magic, we must first know what we want to achieve before we set out to undertake it. “To know” what we want to do, be or achieve is always the crucial first step.

To Will

The second power, “To Will,” emphasizes the transformative force of one’s intentions and desires. Levi suggests that true power lies in aligning one’s will with the divine will, allowing individuals to shape their destinies. 

This concept is not about mere wishful thinking but about the focused and disciplined application of personal energy. 

To Will is to understand the power of intention, recognizing that thoughts and desires possess the ability to shape reality.

We must truly want something in our hearts before we have the capacity to set out to make it a reality.

To Dare

“To Dare,” the third power, embodies courage and the willingness to confront challenges on the path to self-realization. Levi encourages individuals to break free from the constraints of fear and embrace the unknown with confidence.

To Dare is to step beyond the comfort zones, face adversity, and overcome obstacles that obstruct the evolution of the soul. It is a call to action, pushing seekers to manifest their inner potential in the external world.

To Keep Silent

The fourth and final power, “To Keep Silent,” holds a profound significance in the realm of mysticism. Levi advises that not all truths need to be spoken, and there is wisdom in silence. To Keep Silent is to guard the sacred knowledge acquired on the spiritual journey, understanding that some mysteries are meant to be preserved and shared only with those prepared to receive them.

Out of all the powers of the Sphinx, this is the one which many occult practitioners pay the least attention to. I know this was true for myself when I first started, and unfortunately I had to learn the hard way about the the power of keeping silent.

When we share our hopes and our plans with others without discernment, we invite unexpected energies into the equation. The projections of other people are real energies that have impact on our perceptions and our actions.

When we speak without discernment, we can weaken our will and open ourselves to outside influence. This is true not only on a mundane level (in that we may allow ourselves to be dissuaded by other people’s negative opinions), but on a metaphysical or magical level as well. 

That is why it is wise to always use discernment when confiding in others. I had to learn the very hard way that other people do not always want you to succeed.

Now, I am always sure to remember the power and wisdom in using discernment in what I speak and when considering what I share with those around me. It is not enough to know, to will and to dare, but it is also essential to keep silent

Chiron in the 8th House: Delving into Deep Wounds and Creating Transformative Healing

Astrology can be one of the most effective tools for self-discovery and introspection, providing insights into our personalities, life paths, and the challenges we may face along the way.

One celestial body that carries profound significance in astrological interpretations is Chiron, often referred to as the “wounded healer.”

When Chiron is placed in the 8th House of a natal chart, its presence brings a unique blend of intensity, transformation, and deep emotional healing.

Understanding Chiron

Before delving into Chiron’s placement in the 8th House, it’s essential to grasp the essence of Chiron itself. In astrology, Chiron is considered a “minor planet” or “asteroid” and symbolizes the archetype of the wounded healer.

According to ancient Greek mythology, Chiron was a centaur, a creature known for its dual nature, being part human and part horse.

However, Chiron was unique among all centaurs; he was wise, gentle, and profoundly skilled in the healing arts and various forms of knowledge. Chiron’s wisdom and compassion set him apart from his wild and often savage brethren.

The astrological significance of Chiron’s myth lies in his dual nature. According to the ancient myth, Chiron suffered a wound that was both incurable and eternal. This wound, often depicted as an arrow, was accidentally inflicted by Hercules, but with poison he had been given by Chiron himself.

Despite his immense knowledge and healing abilities, Chiron could not heal himself. This myth underscores the idea that even those who possess great wisdom and healing capacities are not immune to their own wounds and vulnerabilities.

In astrology, Chiron’s placement in a natal chart symbolizes an area of deep emotional and psychological wounds. However, it also reveals where individuals can become sources of healing and guidance for others. Chiron’s myth, therefore, teaches us that our own wounds can become sources of strength and that our deepest vulnerabilities can connect us with others in profound and transformative ways.

The 8th House: The House of Transformation

The 8th House in astrology is often associated with profound transformation, shared resources, death, rebirth, and intimate connections. It’s a house of intensity and depth, and when Chiron is located here, it amplifies these themes.

Chiron in the 8th House signifies a deep wound related to intimacy, trust, and shared resources. This wound could manifest as fear of vulnerability, difficulties in merging with others on a deep emotional level, or issues related to inheritance and joint finances.

Significance of Chiron in the 8th House

Individuals with Chiron in the 8th House are often drawn to experiences that force them to confront their deepest wounds. These challenges may present themselves through intense relationships, financial crises, or experiences of profound change. These experiences, while challenging, can ultimately be opportunities for growth and healing.

The 8th House rules over matters of intimacy and trust, and Chiron’s presence here can indicate significant wounds in these areas. Individuals may struggle with letting others in, fear betrayal, or grapple with issues of power and control in their relationships.

Chiron’s placement in the 8th House also bestows individuals with a unique ability to empathize with the pain of others. They can often become skilled healers or counselors, using their own experiences of healing and transformation to guide and support others on their journeys.

Over time, those with Chiron in the 8th House can develop remarkable resilience and inner strength. Their ability to confront and heal their deepest wounds gives them a sense of empowerment and a profound connection to the cycles of life, death, and rebirth.

Ultimately, Chiron in the 8th House represents the “dark night of the soul,” where individuals must confront their inner demons and face their fears head-on. It often represents a journey from woundedness to wisdom, where the individual can learn to harness their own transformative power. The symbolism of this placement is much like to that of the phoenix rising from its ashes—a powerful metaphor for rebirth and renewal.

Ultimately, this placement teaches us that our deepest wounds can be sources of strength and that through embracing our own vulnerability, we can facilitate powerful and enduring transformation in our lives and the lives of those around us.

Healing Chiron Issues in the 8th House

Understanding the archetypal significance of Chiron is just the first part of the process of healing issues associated with the 8th house

There are many types of practices that can help us process our inner experience and transmute what is in darkness or unconscious within. Seeking support in this way can provide us with the tools we need to navigate the depths of the 8th House and integrate the transformative power of Chiron. Let’s explore some of them:

Shadow Work

Shadow work is a profound psychological and spiritual practice that involves delving into the hidden, often unconscious aspects of the self—the shadow. With Chiron in the 8th House, this type of work takes on a heightened significance. To start engaging with the shadow in your own personal unconscious, you can start integrating these practices into your life:

Self-Reflection: Engage in regular self-reflection to identify recurring patterns, fears, and unresolved emotional wounds related to trust, intimacy, and shared resources.

Journaling: Maintain a journal to record dreams, thoughts, and emotions. Explore the symbolism and archetypal themes that arise during this process.

Therapy or Counseling: Seek guidance from a trained therapist or counselor, especially one who specializes in depth psychology or Jungian psychology. They can help individuals navigate the depths of their psyche and provide tools for healing.

Rituals and Ceremonies

Rituals serve as powerful symbolic acts that connect individuals with archetypal energies and facilitate transformation. When working with Chiron in the 8th House, consider incorporating some of these rituals into your practice as part of your healing journey:

New Moon Rituals: Align your healing work with the cycles of the Moon. New moon rituals, in particular, are excellent for setting intentions and releasing old wounds associated with Chiron’s placement.

Candle Magic: Light candles of specific colors associated with the 8th House (for example, deep red) to create an ambiance conducive to inner exploration and healing.

Meditation and Visualization: Use guided meditations and visualization techniques to journey into the depths of your subconscious, where Chiron’s wounds are often stored. Visualize these wounds transforming into sources of strength and wisdom.

Astrological Consultation: Consult with a skilled astrologer who specializes in Chiron placements and how to work with them. They can provide insights into your unique journey and offer guidance on harnessing the transformative potential of Chiron in the 8th House.

By engaging in practices meant to cultivate self-awareness and transformation, individuals can transmute their deepest wounds into sources of wisdom and strength. When working with these issues, we should also remember that any healing process is deeply personal and ongoing, and each person’s path is unique.

The bottom line is that with dedication, self-awareness, and the willingness to confront the depths of the psyche, Chiron’s placement in the 8th House can become a catalyst for profound inner changes and personal evolution.

Gorgias and Language as Enchantment

For centuries, the Sophistic movement of ancient Greece was either ignored or marginalized, likely due to the negative portrayal they received at the hands of Plato. They were written off as charlatans and frauds who had little to offer of philosophical value. 

Gorgias of Leontini

Of all the Sophists, Gorgias even today remains the most recognized and well known. In contrast to his contemporary Plato, Gorgias did not believe in the possibility of absolute truth. Instead, he believed that the best we can manage is an educated opinion, and that all knowledge is subjective and contextual.

He is famous for the following paradox: “Nothing exists; or if it does exist, we cannot know it; or if we can know it, we cannot communicate our knowledge to another person.”

In the past, some have read this statement either as a parody, or as an excessively resigned and nihilistic take on epistemological reality.

But for Gorgias, this state of affairs was not to be lamented, but rather something to be accepted and worked with.

The impossibility of absolute truth was no cause for despair, but instead simply a recognition of the limitations inherent to human language and cognition.

For Gorgias, the purpose of rhetoric was to allow us to navigate the uncertainties of a reality created by and shared through imperfect language. In a world where truth always remained elusive and uncertain, rhetoric could help us to establish consensus as the basis for action.

The rhetoric of Gorgias is firmly rooted in a relativistic epistemology that views all language and all argumentation as inherently deceptive (in that it obscures the full truth, a position which foreshadows Burke’s concept of the terministic screen).

He even directly compares the power of language to magic, with its capacity to enchant and to cast a spell over the listener. For him, words are creative, rather than merely descriptive. Words are the best tools that we have at our disposal to create a shared consensus reality in a world where nothing is ever certain.

It is better, for Gorgias, to recognize the powerful but limited nature of words as a kind of spell or enchantment–for only then may we hope to retain some measure of control and skill in their use and application.

The Tower of Babel

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind.” –John 1:1

For most of my life, my greatest passion has been the search for knowledge.

A lonely child, I found refuge in books: in fiction, tales about foreign lands and fantastic creatures; in practical books about science, the earth, and life processes; in languages, philosophy, religion; in the paranormal, occult, and mysterious. You name it, I had to know about it.


I often felt like everyone else had gotten the instruction manual on this thing called Life, and I was the only one left empty-handed.


And so I took this business very seriously. I read anything and everything I could get my hands on. Somewhere out there was the answer, one day I would find the truth behind it all, and everything would make sense.

In college, I studied literature and languages, and later went to graduate school for a master’s degree in Rhetoric & Composition. I developed an obsession with epistemology, the study of truth, language, and what we can know.


Eventually I started to think that maybe Socrates had it right all along, and the answer was that we truly can know nothing;  but my obsession now had a life of its own, and the demon inside me demanding answers ate every piece of text and trivia in its path, never satisfied, always hungry for more.


I was building my very own Tower of Babel, and it was destroying me. Every Word was another brick in this tower, growing higher and higher into the sky, and I thought that in this way I would one day touch God.

This tower was not built of truth, but of ego. It was a fortress meant to protect me from this reality: that I was terrified, confused, lost and alone.


As all I had built crumbled in a flash, I saw that each little piece of knowledge, each little fact, each bit of data was a line of defense against the world, against chaos, and against life.

It was awareness that I was seeking, and consciousness that I needed.

Words can be a useful tool in directing thought, in guiding the mind to greater consciousness. The word is creative, it is generative, it directs the manifestation of life, but it is not life itself.

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.

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.

VITRIOL

I’ve been thinking often about the past.

That is nothing new. But what is new are the things that are coming up for me.

So many long-forgotten memories are coming to the surface.

So many feelings and events and versions of me that I have mostly been avoiding. The past is so painful, I’ve just wanted to bury the entire thing and forget about it all.

But I’ve been surprised by my self the past few days; not all of these memories are bad ones.

There are actually many, many things which have made me smile. And some which have even made me feel very proud of my self and the person I was.


Mostly, it has been bittersweet.

I’ve been able to look back and see that there were so many good things about me that I have chosen to not recognize.

And I have found that even in the most painful, tragic circumstances of my past, there is the recognition that I was truly doing the best I knew how to do.

Now that I’m further removed from it, I can see the impossibility of the situation for what it was. I can forgive myself now. What I did then didn’t mean what I thought it did at the time. Even in my greatest darkness, I find that there is some redemption.


Visita Interiora Terrae Rectificando Invenies Occultum Lapidem

“Visit the innermost parts of the Earth; by setting things right, you will find the Hidden Stone.”


I came across this as I was reading a book on alchemy last night.

I wrote it down immediately. I felt it was perfect for the process I am undergoing now.

I’m visiting the deepest parts of myself, places I didn’t even know existed still. I am going to the core of my being, and with new vision, I find that I am capable of setting things right.

I am finding that what I pushed down as unworthy, the things that weighed heavy on my heart like lead, often contained a secret shimmer of gold.

Earlier this week I was reading more about alchemy in my new book, “The Emerald Tablet.” I learned about the concept of the rejected stone, or what manifests from the parts of ourselves we have not accepted and integrated. It comes from the persistance of what we keep in the shadows, unwilling to recognize and transmute.

So I said, in my mind, “I want to see my shadow. I want to know what I’m hiding from myself, so that I can work with it, and stop the cycle of manifestation into my life.” I didn’t really expect much of an answer; it was more of like, “I’ll put that on my to-do list for later.”

But I did get an answer. I entered the field of Hermes, I know that for sure. I was shown a lot of things that made me uncomfortable. That I didn’t want to accept. That even still, I tried to deny, or justify, or rationalize.

I knew that I was in the presence of Hermes, because of the play of language that was fighting it’s self in my mind.

One of my attempted justifications was, “Well, you didn’t know better. It’s understandable that you would act that way based on your past experiences & what you’ve been taught.”

Then I heard myself answer, “Okay well you are an adult now, and every day you have the choice to do differently. You don’t have to live as an extension of your past; you have a responsibility to do better now.”

I attempted to deny those words, too, but I couldn’t: they were the same things I had just said the day before about my parents. I could acknowledge that, yes, it would make sense for them to act as they did & do, but that’s never an excuse.

“Music is the space between the notes.”

Claude Debussy

So I kept going. I kept seeing. I kept accepting. I kept staying in that space between understanding and questioning. Of accepting and knowing I could do better. This space in between in where the magic is.

I’m working on staying grounded in this liminal space. At the border between two truths, between the inner and the outer, at the crossroads of above and below, the masculine and the feminine, of my light and my own darkness. To look both ways as I leap into this infinite void, the place of all possibility and of true presence.

It’s an ever-changing dance, a beautiful and delicate stepping into the future, a jump divinely inspired and grounded in truth.

Step by step, I’m here, and I’m ready for whatever may come.