3.3.3. The Peacock

“There is a joy of this world, and there is a joy of the world to come. The joy of this life is limited; but the joy of the life to come is wholly unlimited.”

— Aberdeen Bestiary, c.1200 (MS 24, f.53v)

I find myself pausing before a peacock’s tail, mesmerised by its shifting eyes. Each plume seems to watch in silent judgement, yet also invites me closer. It is a curious paradox — how something so vivid and ostentatious could teach humility. In this stage of the work, we stand before such contradictions, learning not merely to endure them, but to allow them to reveal the deeper laws that guide our transformation.

The stage of Cauda Pavonis — the Peacock’s Tail — emerges during the alchemist’s manufacture of the philosopher’s stone. It is marked by a sudden iridescence, a radiance of many colours spreading through the matter. In this symbol, we find layered meanings that echo through spiritual traditions: the peacock associated with Christ, with spiritual resurrection, and with a certain incorruptibility. Its flesh, they say, hardly decays. It thrives on poisonous snakes, yet wears their venom as a dazzling display of deep blues, greens, and reds. Each feather bears what looks like countless eyes — a living tapestry of awareness.

Arriving at this stage means confronting a profound insight: that my experience of reality has always been filtered through prior experiences. Nothing stands alone; every perception is conditioned. This recognition dismantles the illusion of independent choice. Where once I believed I chose freely between pleasure and pain, I now see these choices are driven by habits formed long before conscious deliberation. In seeking what is pleasant and rejecting what offends, I remain bound within the very cycle I hope to escape.

For the alchemist, then, the problem is not the choice of objects — pleasant or unpleasant — but the act of choosing itself, driven by conditioned craving and aversion. Only by loosening this grasp can one begin to free the mind from paṭicca-samuppāda, the dependent origination that spins the wheel of becoming.

Yet this is not a philosophy of cold withdrawal. The peacock becomes our teacher here, embodying the Bodhisattva’s path. Rather than turning away from what is noxious or difficult, I learn to face it squarely. Like the peacock consuming snakes, I take in the bitterness of the world, transmute it, and reveal a subtle beauty. Unlike those who seek solitary liberation, the Bodhisattva deliberately engages with suffering — both personal and collective — transforming it into wisdom and compassion.

This is not some burdensome task. When readiness has matured, it unfolds almost naturally. One sees that pleasure and pain alike reinforce saṃsāra, keeping attention entangled in duality. And so, doubt deepens — not cynical doubt, but a liberating suspicion of the claims of conditioned reality. This gentle scepticism opens space for freedom.

In Nigredo, we learned not to reject our own darkness. Now, in this stage of the work, we extend that embrace to the darkness of others. We look beyond their misguided toxicity, seeing how it too arises from causes and conditions. In this way, the mind gradually learns a supreme equanimity (upekkhā). We cannot stop phenomena from arising — karma assures that much — but we can train ourselves not to rush out and grasp them. When this reflex of objectifying experience subsides, awareness remains bright but undisturbed. This is how the Veil of Isis falls away, revealing a non-dual, non-conceptual clarity.

Symbolism of the Peacock (As Interpreted in the Aberdeen Bestiary)

So we become like the peacock: seeking not to avoid life’s poisons but to ingest and transmute them. In returning to our world, we discover the alchemical work continues — not in seclusion, but amidst the chaos of daily relations. Our stone may now be purified, yet it must still be cut and polished. And this is done, quietly and steadily, by walking through society with open eyes and an undefended heart.

Of the peacock.

The peacock gets its name, pavo, from the sound of its cry. Its flesh is so hard that it hardly decays and cannot easily be cooked. Martial writes: “You are lost in admiration, whenever it spreads its jewelled wings; can you consign it, hard-hearted woman, to the unfeeling cook?” (Epigrams xiii, 70). Solomon’s fleet brought peacocks from Tharsis along with gold and silver — Tharsis being interpreted as the search for joy. The joy of this life is limited, followed by pain and sadness, but the joy of the life to come is wholly unlimited, unaccompanied by suffering.

The bestiary describes how Jehosaphat’s fleet, like confession seeking purity, was wrecked at Asion Gaber — “youth” or “strength” in Hebrew — suggesting how the rashness of youth often disrupts the course of spiritual progress.

The peacock itself serves as a vivid emblem for preachers and teachers. Its fearful voice is like the preacher warning of Gehenna. Its unaffected walk shows humility. The serpent’s head signifies cautious wisdom. The sapphire breast longs for heaven, the red feathers signal love of contemplation, and the tail covered in “eyes” indicates foresight. Yet the bestiary also warns: when praised, the peacock lifts its tail, exposing what should remain hidden — a reminder that spiritual pride undermines all virtues. Thus the peacock is admonished to keep its tail down, as teachers should perform their duties in humility.

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.