3.2.4. An Introduction to the Subtle Body

“In this body, O monks, which is fathom-long and endowed with perception and mind, I declare the world, the origin of the world, the cessation of the world, and the path leading to the cessation of the world.”

— Saṃyutta Nikāya 1.62 (Pāli Canon)

I come now to a subtle and intricate part of our journey — the exploration of the subtle body. This chapter unfolds like a quiet revelation, offering a glimpse into the delicate architecture behind both our physical form and the landscape of perception itself. It is a contemplative map, meant not to overwhelm but to deepen our sense of how layered and impersonal this life truly is.

The subtle body is a marvel — a matrix of fine channels (nāḍīs), animated by currents called winds (prāṇa), woven through centres we know as chakras, and holding luminous droplets of energy called bindus. Together, they create the energetic scaffold upon which both our physical existence and subjective experience depend.

From the teachings of Tögal, I learn that reality is far stranger than it first appears. My mind, conditioned by countless lives, simultaneously creates the sense of being an observer (what is known in Yogācāra as the seventh consciousness) and the very objects it observes — the sensory and thought experiences arising through the other six consciousnesses.

To understand this is to begin to see how artificial reality truly is. The only distinction between a Buddha and an ordinary being lies in the subtle programming of this energetic system. As ancient texts note, only the bodhisattva, moved by compassion and clarity, finds true value in plumbing these depths.

The Creation of the Subtle Body

It begins simply: with the union of the white elements (śukra-dhātu) from the father and the red elements (rajas-dhātu) from the mother. The white seed carries the subtle blueprint of mind and structural instruction, while the red provides the nourishing substance that becomes our body. Modern science, remarkably, echoes this — sperm, bearing centrioles, directs cellular structure, while the ovum offers all the cytoplasmic substance.

When the sperm’s centriole enters the ovum, it initiates the astonishing cascade of cell division. One could imagine this first polarity as the seed of all dualities: the subtle skeletal framework from the father intertwined with the receptive substance from the mother.

Within each cell, the centrioles form nine sets of triplet microtubules that look almost like tiny tunnels. At the cell centre, they arrange into a star-shaped aster. Some speculate these minute structures may even channel photons, hinting at an intersection between biology and the quantum — perhaps offering a glimpse into how consciousness engages with matter.

The Channels

Rangjung Dorje, in The Profound Inner Principles, writes vividly of these channels:

“The madhyama passes through the middle of the six chakras, extending from the secret place to the crown of the head… Its upper end is blocked by the quintessence of the white element, at the navel lies the red element, and between rests the life-force wind, like space.”

This madhyama — the central channel — arises between the poles of the white and red elements. While some see it as rooted in the very first dividing cell, scriptural descriptions place it within the energetic body, stretching from the base of the spine to the crown. Its essence is space, suggesting something subtler than any material structure.

From this centre grow two main side channels: the rasanā (right, solar, subjective) and the lālanā (left, lunar, objective). These give rise to the interplay of observer and observed. The mind dances between them, sometimes flipping roles — what was once subject becomes object and back again. Thus, within this delicate body, the entire drama of perception is staged.

As the embryo grows, the channels proliferate with astonishing complexity. By around three years post-conception, they have multiplied into millions of fine strands. Major intersections become chakras, each with a pattern of “petals,” branching out like the spokes of a wheel.

Over time, these channels naturally decay, as does all conditioned form.

The Winds

If the channels are wires, then the winds are the currents that flow within. All winds arise from a single life-sustaining wind housed in the madhyama. When this ceases, life itself departs.

Each wind ties to a particular consciousness, element, direction, and even a syllable that serves as a meditative key. Five are primary, governing vital processes, and five are secondary, linked to the senses.

Secondary winds subtly maintain our sensory experiences — sight, hearing, smell, taste, and touch — and continue to operate even into the earliest stages of decomposition.

The Bindus or Drops

These luminous droplets rest within four main chakras: crown, throat, heart, and navel. Each is linked to a colour, syllable, and state of consciousness. In their deluded aspect, they sustain ordinary perception. When purified through practice, they become gateways to direct insight into emptiness.

I will explore these more deeply in Rubedo. For now, it is enough to see how profoundly impersonal our lives are — constructed by forces we did not choose, guided by patterns set in motion long before this body drew breath.

Whether we pursue detailed yogic work with these energies or simply contemplate their architecture, the subtle body reveals a truth that humbles and steadies me: this life is far less “mine” than I ever imagined.

So I stand quietly, feeling the subtle winds that move even as I sit still, knowing that this intricate lattice of channels and energies carries me until it no longer does. Here lies both mystery and deep simplicity: the recognition that all I call “me” is woven of elements not truly mine, dancing according to causes beyond any self.

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.