Much bullshit has been said on the subject, repeated by many ignorant people. I save you yet another annoying version by jumping into the big bath without a duck buoy. The alchemical couple, I have experienced it several times. And I still live it. Yes, at 71 years old. I admit, I had this triple chance – with so many others.
On the inner path represented by the 22 major mysteries of the initiatory tarot, the Lover designates the phase of individuation, at the end of childhood, when the man takes woman and when woman takes off – or the opposite. The first love ends in a bitter failure. It’s necessary. The young protagonists have a torn heart, a terrible sorrow, even the desire to end this thankless life.
Thus the heart opens, in tears of blood. And the child is an adult through this terrible baptism. So terrible that many adults have forgotten it. Totally forgotten. It is the mother engram that the ferrymen of the little mysteries are looking for. I have served this office for over 15 years. But the techniques of the past are no longer working. Arcane XIII goes by itself, without relapsing engrammic, almost without suffering. The transition to The Tower is asking for my help now.
Awakening! Sometimes so long to come, when it just takes a click to install it. So lucky I am to live in such a beautiful and powerful place, where the energy of the earth blends with winds and waves. On my Armor coast, clinging to the wild garden, two houses contemplate the bay of Erquy. Mine and my visitors’. Two houses, one garden. A protective tree, a jungle of mimosas, flowers around and the view, oh the view!
Here I have developed a technique inherited from my benefactor. Energy practise must constantly evolve over time. Each era requires an updating of gestures and rites. I invented the Erquy reki, by tapping into the particular energies of this place that I have lived in for 7 decades.
Erquy reki? Intense experience. As spectacular as the results are, my reki is superfluous for the lucky ones who live in an alchemical couple, as for the followers who dedicate themselves to tantrism. Others are most welcome.
Some authors have attempted to bring tantrism and the alchemical couple closer together. Serge Hutin strives in vain: he probably did not choose the best example.
The alchemical couple? We immediately think of the most famous case, the most familiar, that of Nicolas Flamel, the most famous of the followers of the late Middle Ages, and his faithful wife, Dame Pernelle.
We could easily draw a parallel here with a great secret oriental magic tradition: tantrism, where there is the distinction between the so-called right path (that of solitary asceticism) and that of the left (experienced as a couple).
(…) Analogy with, in Western alchemy, the success of the great work lived either by a solitary ascetic, or by a couple. In both cases, there would be use, control and transposition of the sexual energy, “returned” to let appear the liberating magic force. (source)Serge Hutin, La tradition alchimique : Pierre philosophale et élixir de longue vie
The Flamel household was a couple of alchemists, which does not make them an alchemical couple. They both tried their hand at the great work, but as good Christians that they were, I doubt that they sought the holy orgasm of Tantrism.
It’s crazy the stupidities that we can read here and there! The older I get, the more I dig with a shovel. Do they only know their subject, these pranksters who copy and paste what was said before them without understanding a single word? Are they looking for some noble achievement, are they looking for something other than recognition or are they satisfied with making a good impression? A mystery that I have no desire to solve.
Unquestionably, the relationship between tantrism and alchemical couple is intimate. Both come from the same ancestral practice, itself initiated by the knowledgeable, the former gods who taught us everything. They are the descendants or heirs of the visitors of the stars who have been terraforming this planet eons ago.
Omniscient, all-powerful, over-equipped, they arrived on a wandering planet several billion years ago. An artificial planet the size of planet Venus. Their mothership which has a host of names, Nibiru, Eden, Paradise, Olympia – the Greeks call it Hyperborea.
Planet Venus is named after the Greek Goddess of love. Lascivious, active, enjoyable Aphrodite, you concoct your elixirs and your love potions. Your body is the perfect athanor, made to serve as an altar. As a sacrifice, a triple offering is celebrated: the heart, the soul and the body sublimated in the ultimate pleasure, the holy orgasm.
Tantrism uses sexuality to merge the body and the soul, the feminine and the masculine and achieve, after a long process of meditation, the ecstasy of the mind and the body. Clearly, it is a question of reaching the orgasm without emission of fluids, and this in order not to lose its sexual energy. (source)
This is what we can read everywhere. I do not see meditation in the process of sacred union. But I see action there. What I have experienced makes me think that Tantrism is more physical than meditative. It aims at the fusion of bodies, avoiding the confusion of people. The male adept must retain sperm to prevent the energy of the kundalini from being released at the level of the sexual chakra. Then he must bring up the energy to the upper chakra, that of the belly. And thus, from chakra to chakra, the vital energy is milled and transmuted to end up deified by the effusion of the crown chakra, the fontanel.
Here sex is a means, not an end. It’s about achieving perfect union and total orgasm, involving all of the chakram, not just the sexual chakra.
The alchemical couple
The loving passion of two soul mates and the controlled flame of Tantrism are two ways to use sacred sexuality to achieve enlightenment. It is indeed alchemy, sexual magic. The alchemy in question is a magical, deep, immediately intense and delicious contact. Nothing to do with athanors, retorts, brick ovens and reductions in a crucible. On the contrary, everything to do with the Song of Songs, the passion-unreason of King Solomon and the Queen of Sheba, the fusion without confusion of two beings who recognize themselves as similar and complementary.
In a momentum that can last a lifetime, they marry and give each other pleasure. A rare pleasure, as intense as exhilarating, without restraint, without thought, the dance of your skin on mine, the dance of your breasts in my hands when our thighs unite, oh my love, my rare pearl, ocean of bliss. If you give me a son, let him come to me in his age as a man, here is a ring with my seal, by this sign I will recognize him. (source)
This alchemy – body chemistry, physical harmony – is to be compared, in my opinion, to the elective affinities of Goethe, the famous hooked atoms which generate love at first sight and sacred passion.
Often fatal passion for Jean-Jacques Rousseau and romantic authors. Romanticism is an excess. Fatal, all passion is not. To lose one’s mind ? Big deal ! It is used in vain for years, when it suffices to love!
Sacred passion because it is prayer, thanksgiving, obedience, humility, impetus, priesthood, humanity, tenderness, holiness, health, sobriety, and many other excellent and comforting things in itinerant sales.
To say that I can’t help messing around is to state the obvious. The more serious the subject, the more serious I am – seriously mad as you say: he’s in a bad shape this poor guy.
Praise of laughter
This kink has its interest. The cleverest got it. To the fool that I am, the most idiots prefer stilted scientists, clad in certainties, imbued with their ashes, for whom laughing is characteristic of dunces. Pity them, they don’t know what they are.
Laughter is the warrior’s delight, the scientist’s notch, the engineer’s happiness. Laughter is the healer. A cure. One day without laughter is a lost day. I find them all. There are so many occasions to laugh in an ordinary day! What makes it extraordinary.
Take yourself seriously, admire yourself, engorge yourself, glorify yourself, put yourself forward, fart yourself, make yourself look beautiful, strut your stuff, adorn yourself with peacock feathers, it’s you that you pluck, it’s you that you hang, stuffing turkey, partridge of the year, ridiculous little naked man facing the multiverse.
You are the frog that wishes to be as big as the ox. You cling to the old paradigm, but this parachute is pierced on all sides, it lets through the carrier air, the savior air that your fellows have mercilessly polluted and which you lack, you fall, little man, you tumble from your perch and for the first time in your life you ask yourself the right question: what the fuck took me to climb so high?
You discover at your expense the evils of gravity. And in your head, finally empty, this sarcastic evidence resounds: the harder they come, the harder they fall, one and all. In this case it is the opposite.
Better read it twice. Three is free. The fourth is Force. (Lao Surlam)