3.2.1. The Threshold of Non-Return

“He is endowed with unwavering devotion to the Buddha, Dharma and the Sangha. He is joyous and swift in wisdom but has not gained release. Having destroyed the five lower fetters, he is reborn spontaneously where he will attain Nibbāna without returning from that world. That man is entirely released from the states of woe.”

— Sarakāṇi Sutta, Saṃyutta Nikāya

I find myself lingering at a threshold, a quiet place between what was and what must now be let go. Here begins the domain of the Anāgāmī, the “non-returner,” who has severed the grosser chains that bind one to sensual rebirth. The air here is lighter, yet it hums with subtle, almost imperceptible tensions — the traces of desires that run deeper than I ever thought possible.

The journey to this place has not been a single leap, but a gradual yielding. It unfolds typically in three phases. First, the initial awakening of a Sotāpanna, when the view of an enduring personality dissolves, and trust in mere rites and rituals gives way to a direct confidence in liberation. Doubt weakens its grip. Then comes the Sakadāgāmī, who further tempers sensual longing and ill-will. Finally, in the Anāgāmī, one lets these last coarse fetters fall entirely away.

Having relinquished the chains of sensory craving and hostility, the Anāgāmī stands on the cusp of profound territory. If death were to come now, there would be no return to this human sphere; instead, rebirth occurs spontaneously in one of the highest realms of the fine-material plane — the Pure Abodes (Suddhāvāsa) — where final liberation is assured.

The Fetters and the Fermentations

It is helpful, I find, to consider the five lower fetters in relation to another schema the Buddha offered: the three fermentations (āsava) — moral taints that sour the heart.

The Anāgāmī has fully overcome kāmāsava, having seen through the illusion of sensory delight. What remains are the deeper ferments: the drive to continue existing (bhavāsava) and the subtle haze of ignorance (avijjāsava).

At this stage, the path becomes less about avoiding coarse mistakes and more about refining the hidden mechanics of being itself. The work grows inward.

The Subtle Fetters

The teachings list ten fetters (saṃyojana) in all, with the last five called subtle for good reason. They no longer deal merely with how we engage with sights, sounds, and tastes, but with the very architecture of identity and becoming.

Progress at this stage is delicate. One must become almost obsessively familiar with how these fetters arise in one’s own mind. When I catch myself longing to be someone or to achieve something, I must pause and recognise: this is simply the desire to be. Likewise, the wish for oblivion is merely the flip side — the desire not to be.

Conceit is especially tricky. It flowers precisely when progress is made, whispering, Look how far you’ve come. I remind myself that humility — even if still a kind of conceit — is at least a softer variant, less likely to breed delusion.

Restlessness seems to be the last to yield, a subtle vibration of the mind still grasping for objects. It often only quiets when ignorance itself begins to dissolve, either through repeated glimpses or through a trust in the Dhamma so profound that the mind finally learns to rest.

The Two Types of Seeker

There is a curious observation in the lore of both East and West: that some who reach these lofty heights seem to press forward solely for themselves, while others are stirred by concern for the world.

It is speculated that those driven purely by personal liberation may reach Arahantship, only to pass away soon after, their final task complete. Without a vow to serve or guide others, they have no lingering thread to hold them here. I once read that an arahant outside the monastic context often dies within seven days — having fulfilled all conditions for departure.

By contrast, the Bodhisattvas appear as those who, out of great compassion, defer full release in order to assist countless others. Their path continues into realms beyond my current understanding, but it suggests something profound: that the culmination of alchemical work — the Rubedo — might demand a heart turned outward, willing to remain among the flames for the sake of others.

A Subtler Landscape Ahead

And so this book, Citrinitas, will follow the journey from the white clarity of Albedo (the Anāgāmī’s domain) into this deeper, subtler landscape. Together, we will examine each remaining fetter, the latent tendencies (anusaya) that fuel them, and the ways both ancient and contemporary traditions advise we proceed.

These are not yet fully eradicated even in the Anāgāmī. But with each recognition, each gentle turning of the mind toward clarity, their grip weakens.

This, then, is the threshold we now stand upon. May we step carefully, yet with a confidence born of wisdom and a growing compassion for all that still struggles in the dark.

This text is excerpted from the upcoming book Citrinitas: A Course in Modern Alchemy. The complete volume will include additional study guides, glossaries, and extended teachings. Learn more about the book here.