3.3.11. The Magus

“With our thoughts, we make the world.”

— Dhammapada, verse 1

I find myself now standing upon ground that feels altogether new, even though the path leading here was etched by countless familiar steps. There is a quiet clarity in this stage — a sense that what once appeared solid has become transparent. I see how the mind built a prison out of thoughts, a self out of fleeting impressions, and a world out of projections. Here, as the Magus, the dream of self falls away. What remains is startling in its simplicity: experience without a centre.

Once the alchemist truly sees that all subjective experiences are merely experiences of mind — not of a self — everything changes. The relationship with conditional reality transforms. Peace no longer depends on circumstances, for it is found beyond cognition itself.

At this stage, there is little control over what phenomena arise, but phenomena are simply observed now, not claimed. Up to this point, our investigation has been confined to the arena of thought — a vast terrain we once assumed limitless. Yet searching for answers within thought only cements our role as protagonist, suffering through a story. To be the protagonist is also to be the prisoner.

The alchemist recognises that cognition itself is the engine of saṃsāra. There is little left to do but sit with this profound seeing. We cannot think our way out of saṃsāra, for thinking is saṃsāra. Accepting that the cognitive construct we call “self” is a fiction proves painfully difficult to unwind. Yet, after persistent effort, we stand at the edge of this prison. Now we understand how it was built — and crucially, how it may be escaped. The key is to stop scrutinising the prison and instead turn our attention to the “prisoner.”

In the path of Alchemy, the grade of Albedo is known as the Master of the Temple. Here, the seeker sees through the illusion of self and ceases to defend or uphold it. The mechanisms that once bolstered identity and engaged with the world are no longer sustained. This allows for gentle relinquishment of social masks and the emergence of a saintly, selfless perspective.

Citrinitas follows — a brief yet radical stage. It signals a complete turn in spiritual orientation. Where Albedo dismantles external fetters — the coarse attachments tied to identity and society — Citrinitas confronts the subtle, inward fetters. Here, the delusion of an inner self collapses, ushering in deep personal liberation. Confidence in the Dhamma is now rooted in direct meditative insight, strong enough to sever any lingering clinging to a self.

This stage is marked by a startling discovery: cognitive effort is no longer helpful. In fact, it becomes clear that true being lies beyond thought.

It feels like stumbling into a new dimension where “this reality” is simply contained. Thoughts, perceptions, matter, feelings, consciousness — all arise within mind. There is no longer a compulsion to relate these processes to a personal self. Previously, we needed thoughts and feelings to piece together an identity. We took ownership of cognition, mistaking it for self. This mechanism — of objectifying and then subjectifying experience — spun out the dual illusions of “self” and “other.”

The Magus sees this with piercing clarity. The world is recognised as a dream — vivid, yes, but without a dreamer. Once awake, prior concerns are understood for what they were: ephemeral images. They may still hold interest, but not the same weight.

Conditional reality is now seen as a kind of simulation — a hypnotic overlay of meanings atop inherently empty phenomena. This is not the design of some malevolent architect; it is simply the nature of conditioned existence. Sentient beings hypnotise themselves.

If we meet existence innocently, without overlaying significance, it can be profoundly delightful. But when we grasp or recoil, we become ensnared by illusions that were never solid to begin with.

The ultimate culprit is the mind — not merely the discriminative mind busy comparing and judging, but the deeper substratum from which all arises. This is sometimes called the “ground of being,” a spacious awareness beneath conditional experiences. It is more than mere emptiness, though cognitively, “space” is our best approximation.

From this ground, mind unfolds in two aspects: essence, akin to pure potential, and manifestation, the arising of conditioned phenomena.

Before certain insights mature, it is impossible to separate our sense of being from thoughts and sensations. Yet with the requisite scope of understanding, we see that conditional reality is a subtle distortion of something deeper. This is the ground of being — an awareness that, in unenlightened beings, revolves around a core of ignorance. This confusion misreads the process of subjective experience as evidence of a distinct, enduring self.

Buddhahood does not arrive from outside. There is no Buddha to be discovered “out there.” Buddha-nature is already present in the ground of being within each sentient life. The distinction is this: for a Buddha, awareness is pure and rests on wisdom, untainted by conceptual overlays. For most beings, that same subtle awareness is enshrouded by layers of cognition.

Having dismantled both the gross and subtle fetters, the Magus no longer invests in saṃsāra. They see the emptiness of phenomena, and so any concept built upon them is ultimately arbitrary. This does not negate careful observation or precise language, but it places these tools in a gentler perspective.

Now, thinking is recognised as an event within its own boundaries. The person is not a cog in a machine of sensations and thoughts; rather, this “machine” is itself nested within a grander concept of being.

This is the Mahāyāna — the Great Vehicle. Having dissolved the illusion of a personal self, one can let go of the conceptual ego and inhabit a more expansive view. Life’s dramas diminish in urgency, overshadowed by a far more compelling reality.

Thus freed, the Magus observes reality as “the universe experiencing itself.” They may still navigate the affairs of saṃsāra, but without dread seriousness. They might seem irreverent or even mad to others, yet their heart is light.

From here, the Magus is free to wander wherever life flows. They are an arahant — one who has mastered personal liberation.

As alchemists on this journey, we are close. After nearly three volumes, we stand at the threshold of grasping what this “ground of being” might mean. Now we must explore it further. For there are ten bhūmis — grounds of being — each more subtle than the last. The bodhisattva continues refining awareness with the aim of severing the arising of conditional reality at its very root: the mind itself.

At the stage of the Magus, the illusion of a personal self dissolves completely. Conditional reality is recognised as both dream and simulation — beautiful or burdensome depending on whether we grasp or simply witness. What remains is an intimate understanding of the ground of being, and with it, a profound lightness. The journey continues, but now from a vantage beyond the prison of 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.