2.1.1 The Seven Deadly Sins
“Hatred does not cease by hatred, but only by love; this is the eternal law.”
— Dhammapada, verse 5
We begin Albedo gently, by shifting our attention. If Nigredo was a descent into shadow, here we begin a slow emergence — not yet toward light, but toward discernment. The lens now sharpens, not to condemn, but to see clearly the energies that perpetuate suffering. While the language of “sin” may seem at odds with the alchemical or Buddhist lens, it still offers us a practical map of human tendencies that obscure awareness. In this chapter, we turn toward these forces — not to battle them directly, but to understand how they operate, and how, through awareness, they may be naturally relinquished.
The idea of sin, in its conventional religious framing, is often inseparable from the image of a judging God. But from the alchemical or Buddhist view, no such judge is required. Karma operates without moralism. It is not a divine accounting system, but a simple principle of conditionality: actions arise from causes and give rise to effects. What we call “sin” is simply action rooted in ignorance — action that disrupts harmony, and in doing so, sets in motion the conditions for its own undoing.
In this light, karma behaves less like punishment and more like a physics equation. The self-imposed distortion — the belief in a self acting upon a separate world — is the seed. The consequence is not moral wrath, but the unfolding of results. In time, all error unwinds itself. No external judge is needed — only clarity to see the mechanisms at play.
The Seven Deadly Sins are not, in themselves, a Buddhist framework, but their emotional and psychological terrain is mirrored in the Abhidhamma. Greed (lobha), hatred (dosa), and delusion (moha) form the core unwholesome roots. What follows is a meditation on these tendencies, not to pursue virtue for its own sake, but to create the open ground in which genuine insight may take root.
We do not begin with the wholesome. Not because goodness is absent, but because it requires no effort to foster. Like sunlight upon a cleared field, virtue arises naturally once the obstructions are removed. Our task is to clear the field — to recognise the weeds of unwholesomeness and pull them gently, without haste or pride.
Pride
Pride is more subtle than it first appears. It arises not only as a sense of superiority, but also as equality and inferiority — a threefold conceit (māna). To think oneself better, equal, or worse than others is still to operate within comparison. Yet comparison depends on a fixed sense of self, and this is precisely the illusion we seek to dissolve.
Even humility can become a disguise for pride. A mind that thinks, “I am nothing,” is still grasping at a thought of self. True freedom does not destroy conceit by force, but sees it clearly as mere concept — and simply ceases to cling.
Even the enlightened may use conventional identity to navigate the world, but without attachment. They accept praise or blame without internal commentary. Thus, pride must be watched — especially as spiritual progress begins. It can quickly shift into subtle arrogance. One should always assume that any insight gained is likely the fruit of past effort, not present merit.
Wrath
Anger (dosa) is born of misunderstanding. We believe our anger concerns another person, but in truth we are reacting to our own concept of them. We never truly know them — only our idea of them. When we rage, it is our own mind attacking itself.
Anger, like a snake biting its own tail, feeds upon its own fire. Clarity collapses, reaction feeds reaction. The first step is simply to stop biting. Recognise that the perceived insult or injury is internal, not external — a script enacted by mental actors who have misread their cues. We do not suppress anger, but see it clearly. In seeing, its power begins to dissolve.
Lust
Lust (kāmacchanda) is craving for sensory experience. It is the joy-seeking mind that has not yet recognised the trap. Lust is not limited to the sexual; it is the restless pursuit of pleasure, the chase of delight. It is innocent, in its way — it believes in its own satisfaction. Yet satisfaction always recedes just beyond reach.
For one advancing along this path, lust must eventually be released. Not out of repression, but from the direct discovery that desirelessness is more joyful than possession. One may still eat the cake — but if it falls to the floor, no distress follows.
Envy
Envy is not the same as jealousy. Jealousy desires what another possesses. Envy resents that they have it at all. It is a form of ill-will (vyāpāda) that quietly corrodes the heart. Envy rests upon conceit — the belief in a self that is lesser, deprived, lacking.
Seeing envy as a subtle form of hatred can be illuminating. It is not merely a painful emotion — it is the mind wishing harm upon another, often without recognising it. When this is seen clearly, it becomes far harder to indulge.
Gluttony
Gluttony is not truly about food. It is about compensation — a hunger that cannot be met at the level it is expressed, so it repeats itself in excess. The longing to fill, to be full, to satisfy a craving that never quite resolves. It may fix on food, or just as easily on prestige, sex, or wealth.
At its root, it is craving (taṇhā) seeking relief without understanding its cause. Gluttony’s remedy is found less in restraint than in insight — seeing the true origin of the hunger.
Greed
Greed is craving with ambition. It does not merely seek enjoyment, but possession. The need to own, to dominate, to expand one’s territory. It is not always loud. Often it appears as a quiet desire to accumulate — objects, followers, power, control.
Unlike lust or gluttony, which chase experiences, greed strives for permanence. It wants things to last, to be held, to be mine. Yet all things pass. Greed’s kingdom is built on sand.
Sloth
Sloth is perhaps the most misunderstood of the seven. It is rarely simple laziness. More often, it is a symptom — of doubt, fear, or subtle resistance. It may be the body’s quiet protest against a path not fully aligned. Or it may be leftover craving, disguised as inertia.
Rather than battling sloth, try redirecting it. If you cannot study, meditate. If you cannot meditate, read. If you cannot read, listen. Keep close to the fire, even if you do not yet feel its warmth. Consistency outweighs intensity. And kindness — even toward your dullness — is part of the work.
We explore the Seven Deadly Sins not to shame, but to name. They are simply tendencies, arising from conditions. By understanding their roots and disguises, we begin the quiet work of weeding. Not in haste, not in condemnation — just steadily, patiently, clearing the ground for wisdom to bloom.
This text is excerpted from the upcoming book Albedo: A Course in Modern Alchemy. The complete volume will include additional study guides, glossaries, and extended teachings. Learn more about the book here.