Magic & Practical Kabbalah

The following (text only) is taken from Chapter 6 of my book

The Secret Garden of the Soul: An introduction to the Kabbalah,

published by Imagier Publishing in 2008.

[The subject of] Kabbalah is so immense that an in-depth exploration of the material it encompasses could never be addressed in a single volume. There are many aspects to this subject, one of which falls under the heading of “Practical Kabbalah”, which many today believe deals with ceremonial and talismanic magic and related disciplines. However, Magic and Practical Kabbalah do not necessarily mean the same thing to a traditional student of the Kabbalah as they do to the majority of aspiring magicians. Indeed, strictly speaking, in traditional Kabbalistic schools there is no such thing as magic. Practical Kabbalah is looked upon as an exercise in practical mysticism rather than an exercise in magic. This distinction is important, because to the Kabbalist the central teachings of Kabbalah are the scriptures, and therein many elements of magic are forbidden, for example: 

“There shall not be found among you anyone who practises witchcraft, or a soothsayer, or one who interprets omens or a sorcerer or one who conjures spells, or a medium or a spiritist or one who calls up the dead. For all who do these things are an abomination to the Lord.” (Deuteronomy 18: 10-12)

Not a popular text in the modern world, yet many traditional Kabbalists would denounce the popular understanding of Practical Kabbalah on this passage alone.       

In some respects the term “Practical Kabbalah” is misleading for it implies that in Kabbalah there are separate departments. But this is simply not the case as all Kabbalah is “practical” in its own way. Indeed, one would do well to remember that the divisions described by different authors of Kabbalistic books are arbitrary divisions that have been employed to rationalise the complex material of Kabbalah, much of which, since the late Middle Ages, has been appropriated by enterprising magicians and adapted to serve their own purposes. A lot of this material is claimed to be “pure Kabbalah”, but in reality has little connection with it or any understanding of its traditions. Furthermore, a great deal of material from the late medieval period onward, which has been classified under the heading of Practical Kabbalah, derives from non-Kabbalistic sources. For example, most of the material from the work of the 16th-century magicians, John Dee and Edward Kelly, has little to do with Kabbalah, practical or otherwise. 

Over the course of the last century Practical Kabbalah has attracted the attention of so many aspiring magicians that today the words “Kabbalah” and “Magic” have become synonymous. It may then be pertinent at this point to ask the question, what is magic, what does the word actually mean? The simple answer is that the word “Magic” has meant, and continues to mean, many things to many people. There is nothing new in this; it has been the subject of a great deal of debate over the centuries and there is as yet no consensus as to its meaning; in fact the meaning of the word has been a matter of uncertainty since classical times. 

What is known is that the word Magic is generally accepted as being derived from the Greek mageia, a word that the Greeks derived from the word Magu or Magi, a title of the sacerdotal caste of ancient Persia and Media, who were followers of the prophet Zoroaster and priests of the god Ahuramazda. The word Magi signifies those who are “wise”, not only in the ways of the world, but also in the ways of God, and because of their wisdom the Magi commanded great respect throughout the ancient world. Plato felt comfortable using them as exemplars of the highest virtue when discussing statesmanship in Alcibiades I, where he describes how a royal prince of ancient Persia, upon reaching the age of fourteen years, was put in the care of four carefully selected schoolmasters (magians). These masters were “reputed to be the best among the Persians of a certain age; and one of them is the wisest, another the most just, the third the most temperate, and the fourth the most valiant. The first instructs him in the magianism of Zoroaster, the son of Ahuramazda, which is the worship of the gods, and teaches him also the duties of his royal office.” Thus Plato held the Magi in the highest esteem, and furthermore, informs us that the work of a magus, or magician, is the worship of the gods (Theurgy).

The Classical world came to an end with the collapse of the Western Roman Empire in the 5th century, to be followed by the Dark Ages and then the medieval era, throughout which magic generally fell under three main headings: Natural Magic, Goetia and Theurgy.

Natural Magic is concerned with the hidden workings of nature; its properties, powers, qualities, substances and virtues. It was held to be the noblest part of the physical sciences, and as such was not forbidden by faith and was therefore not legislated against. For many students of the magical art it was the consummation of Natural Philosophy. The study of Alchemy, Medicine, Astrology, and the manipulation of Nature’s “finer forces” were considered to be the proper domain of Natural Magic.

[for example] One of the greatest exponents of Natural Magic was Paracelsus, a renowned healer of the 16th century who became famous for his Doctrine of Signatures, in which he proposed that natural objects suggest by their external appearance the complaints for which they were cures; thus, some plants may be seen as representing parts of the body, whilst others suggest diseases for which they may be used as remedies. A “signature” was therefore any distinctive feature or quality that indicated a connection between remedy and malady.Natural Magic was understood to be the application of true and natural causes to produce rare and unusual effects by means that were neither superstitious nor diabolical. It follows then, that there is a fundamental distinction between the field of Natural Magic and those of Goetia and Theurgy, for Natural Magic does not involve engaging with spirits or gods, be they good or bad; rather, it is a discipline of enquiring into the workings of Nature, whereas Goetia and Theurgy are essentially disciplines that do engage with spirits and gods, and indeed, with a vast hierarchy of other supernatural beings.

Goetia To the ancient Greeks, what we in our time might generally understand by the terms sorcerer, witch and witchcraft, was known by the name Goës or Goëtes, from which the term Goetia and Goetic are derived. Indeed, from the earliest times the term Goetia has been employed in a sinister and disreputable sense. Goetia has invariably been linked with magical ceremonies devised to control and manipulate spirits for questionable reasons, often to the detriment of others.  

Today Goetia is usually associated with the 17th century Grimoire, Lemegeton Clavicula Solomonis, otherwise known as The Lesser Key of Solomon, around which a vast amount of fanciful myth and legend has accumulated. Indeed, Goetia has long been considered to be synonymous with Black Magic. Historically, Goës (sorcerers, witches etc.) were often seen as a threat to the social order and there were many occasions when the laws against them were vigorously enforced, particularly in the Roman Empire. Almost from the beginning Rome introduced laws against the exponents of sorcery and witchcraft, and the earliest Roman code of Law, the Twelve Tablets, introduced in the mid 5th century BC, and so named because they were publicly displayed in the Forum on twelve tablets of Bronze, forbade people from using magic to harm others, the punishment for such a crime being severe. In the first century BC the Patrician, Felix Lucius Cornelius Sulla, reformed these laws. Part of the reformed laws, the Lex Cornelia de sicariis et veneficis, (the Cornelian Law Concerning Assassins and Poisoners) includes the following statements with regard to magic: 

Persons who celebrate, or cause to be celebrated, impious or nocturnal rites, so as to enchant, bewitch, or bind anyone, shall be crucified, or thrown to wild beasts.

Persons who are addicted to the art of magic, shall suffer extreme punishment; that is to say they shall be thrown to wild beasts, or crucified. Magicians themselves shall be burned alive.

No one shall be permitted to have books on the art of magic in his possession, and when they are found with anyone, they shall be publicly burnt, and those who have them, after being deprived of their property, if they are of superior rank shall be deported to an island, and if they are of inferior station shall be put to death; for not only is the practice of this art prohibited, but also the knowledge of the same.” (Sentences of Paulus in  Stephen Benko's Pagan Rome & the Early Christians) 

Obviously, the ancient world was no bed of spiritual roses, for society then, just like today, had its share of unscrupulous people who were prepared to use both natural and supernatural forces to take advantage of, and or intimidate their neighbours. However, in Plato or Sulla’s time it would have been unlikely that a sorcerer or witch would have been mistaken for being a member of the Magi, for the Magi, whether from Persia, ancient Egypt, Greece or Rome, were the elite of their civilisation. They were extremely learned, not only in spiritual sciences such as Theology and Psychology, but in all of the known empirical sciences, including Astronomy, Mathematics, Metallurgy, Philosophy, Medicine and Physiology, and as such were highly respected. As Plato so eloquently put it, the work of the Magi was the worship of the gods; work that is formally known as Theurgy.

Theurgy The word ‘theurgy’ is based upon the Greek words Theos (God) and Ergos (work), from which is derived the word theourgia – which means “works of God” or “Divine Workings”. These Divine Workings were the sacramental rites or mysteries that were central to the spiritual life of the ancient world. One of the main exponents of Theurgy in the ancient world was Iamblichus, who was born in Syria in the middle of the 3rd century. He was a pupil of Porphyry and the author of several books, most of which are now lost. Fortunately one book, entitled De Mysteriis survived. It is an account of a lengthy correspondence about Theurgy between an Egyptian High Priest called Abammon, and Iamblichus’s teacher, Porphyry. It is perhaps the most significant work concerning ancient theurgic principles and dynamics still in existence.

Over the course of time the ancient rites of Theurgy were absorbed into the sacramental system of the Church, and have since fallen into disuse. They are no longer valued either by the Church or the State; indeed, our society has barely any knowledge of the sacred rites of spiritual regeneration that were so important to the ancient world. This is hardly surprising as the secular world views the spiritual dimension of life as a pot-pourri of primitive beliefs, practices and superstitions promoted by the unscrupulous with the intention of fleecing the naïve and the incredulous, or by the misguided and the irrational as a delusory mystical science that rests more on hopes, dreams and misconceptions than on any objective truth or observation.

Even the majority of those who are knowledgeable perceive Theurgy and Goetia to be by and large one and the same thing. Unfortunately it is a potentially hazardous perception in the sense that the objectives and dynamics of both are very different: on their own terms they are diametrically opposed. Eliphas Levi says of Goetic Magic:

“This torrent of universal life, it is this which brings to our evocations and to the conjurations of our Goëtic Magic such swarms of larvæ and phantoms. Therein are preserved all the fantastic and fortuitous assemblages of forms which people our nightmares with such abominable monstrosities.” (Eliphas Levi, Transcendental Magic, A.E. Waite, Trans. London, Rider & Co, 1923, p. 95) 

Herein we may perceive the distinction between Goetia and Theurgy, for in Goetia the magician seeks to control the forces of nature and the spirits that abound in creation, to take heaven by storm, to become as a god; ‘Let my Will be done’ is the rule, whereas the Theurgist seeks purification, liberation, and salvation of the soul, following a path of “Thy Will be done” as opposed to “My Will be done”. This is best summed up by Iamblichus himself, who wrote:

From the beginning, it is necessary to divide ecstasy into two species: one is turned towards the inferior, filled with foolishness and delirium, but the other imparts goods more honourable than human wisdom. 

 The former is unstable, the latter unchangeable; the first is counter to nature, the latter is beyond nature; the former makes the soul descend, the latter raises it up; and while the former entirely separates the soul from participation in the divine, the latter connects the soul with the divine. (Secret Garden of the Soul by Allan Armstrong, p. 161)

From the foregoing it becomes obvious that describing what is meant by “Magic” is at best a little tricky. As mentioned above, magic has meant different things to different people at different times but if there is a common theme that runs throughout the history of magic it is control. In all systems of magic throughout history people have sought to control both their material and spiritual environments and all things in it through magic. In material terms such mysticism is seen in today’s world as a delusory pseudo-science, and so it might be, but in spiritual terms magic is a term for the inevitable technology that emerges from theology. However, as we have seen, there is magic and there is magic. Broadly speaking, Natural Magic was traditionally concerned with exploring the natural world, and over the course of time has naturally evolved into the sciences, but there is a system of magic that falls either under the banner of “Divine Workings” or under the banner of the diabolical.
 
In Kabbalah the Divine Workings are not magic and the Kabbalist is neither a magician nor seeks to become a magician. It may be difficult for an impartial observer to grasp the significance of this point, but it may become clear if one understands that to the Kabbalist, Practical Kabbalah is concerned only with the Divine Names of God as derived from the scriptures and their mysterious workings as unfolded in Kabbalistic processes. The Divine Names are intimately connected with the Sephirotic world and its emanation thus, to engage with the Divine Names is to engage in a sacred process, not a magical process. To the Kabbalist, such processes are geared only to the regeneration of the soul, not to its elevation, aggrandisement, or for intellectual curiosity. From the time of the Sepher Yetzirah, and probably before, a complex and sophisticated system evolved concerning the application and use of the Divine Names. For the Kabbalist this system constitutes the essence of Practical Kabbalah. However, in the late Middle Ages, this system passed into the realms of ceremonial magic from which a degraded form of Practical Kabbalah emerged, and many scholars and magicians have never really seen the two as separate entities. Concerning this, A.E. Waite states: 

The White and Black Magic of the Middle Ages constitutes a kind of spurious practical Kabbalah which represents Jewish esoteric doctrine debased to the purposes of the sorcerer, and it is necessary that we should estimate it at its true worth, because it has been the subject of misconception not only among uninstructed persons but even professed expositors. A study of Zoharistic writings, their developments and commentaries will shew the ends proposed by the Speculative Kabbalah are very different from evocations of spirits, the raising of ghosts, discovery of concealed treasures, the bewitchments and other mummeries of Ceremonial Magic. The Kabbalah does, however, countenance, as we have seen, the doctrine of a power resident in Divine Names, and it is in fact one of the burdens of its inheritance. ( Waite, The Holy Kabbalah pp. 518-519)

finis 

If you would like to know more about The Secret Garden of the Soul then visit http://www.imagier.com/books/tsgots.htm

Alternatively, you can order a copy through your local bookshop.
Details: The Secret Garden of the Soul, by Allan Armstrong;
ISBN: 978-0-9558415-0-7
Price £15.50

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Colour Symbolism

The following (text only) is taken from a foreword I wrote for a book 

published in 2011 entitled Symbolic Colours by the Baron Frederick de Portal.

Although the world today recognises that the spectrum of light available to the human eye provides us with a vast range of colours, it hasn’t always been so. In the ancient world, indeed even up until recent times, it was generally accepted that the spectrum consisted of seven colours only, and although artists and other specialists knew of a wider range, convention still maintained the tradition of seven basic colours from which all other colours were derived.

in the ancient world this spectrum did not stand alone, in splendid isolation. Colour was then, as it is now, not only a fundamental part of everyday existence, but was also fully integrated into the various cosmologies of the many significant religions and cults of the ancient world. As diverse as the many belief systems of the ancient world undoubtedly were, they generally thought of the structure of the cosmos as consisting of a spiritual heaven and a material earth, between which lay a succession of worlds, each represented by one of the seven planets and ruled by a deity and/or a hierarchy of ‘spiritual’ beings. Each planet was also thought to correspond, among other things, with a colour; with the primary sounds we call vowels, and with the seven notes of the musical scale – a veritable compendium of correspondences, many being as relevant in esoteric circles today as they were then.

Of particular significance in this context were the teachings of Pythagoras, who flourished in the sixth century BC. He sought to establish human society upon the principles of the harmony that he perceived as underlying the structure of the cosmos. To him sound, colour and form were all expressions of one divine essence recognisable in number, in geometry, in the division of the octave and in the spectrum of colour: analogues of the one all-embracing harmony that is divine providence. Pythagoras’ efforts, although perhaps too idealistic for his time, were not in vain as his teachings were very influential in many of the philosophic and esoteric circles that succeeded him, most notably in the Athenian Academy. This was established by Plato at the beginning of the fourth century BC, with the study of Philosophy as its primary purpose. Plato’s teachings were heavily influenced by Pythagoras, as, inevitably, were those of his student, Aristotle, who built on the teachings of Pythagoras and Plato and gave to the world a clear conception of an integrated world when he introduced his model of a geocentric cosmos.

The geocentric model was further utilized by the Neo-Platonists in the third century AD and beyond. This school of thought quickly became the philosophical foundation for numerous mystical and spiritually orientated associations, many of which preferred to meet and practice secretly. Consequently, as time passed what initially may have started as an area of specialised knowledge became ever more esoteric, often requiring knowledge of sophisticated codes and keys to engage with and understand it. Thus, Pythagorean ideas have continued to be propagated in the world through the efforts of such bodies ever since, albeit in very specialised ways.

In the world of healing, Celsus, a celebrated Roman physician of the first century AD, discussed colour and its therapeutic application in his works on medicine, as did his contemporary, Pliny the Elder, in his books on Natural History. And there have been many others. It goes without saying that it is intrinsic to our lives, but it is in the area of religion and spirituality that colour plays a particularly interesting role, and it is this role that Portal addresses so adeptly, for he stood between two worlds: an ancient world full of mysteries and imagination and a modern world promising those who dare the prize of the knowledge of the gods and material wealth beyond dreams.

 However, the modern world is the child of the Enlightenment, the philosophical and social movement that emerged in eighteenth century Europe and still dominates so much of world thinking today. Enlightenment thought stressed that experience is the foundation of our understanding of truth, and that religious doctrine has no place in the understanding of the physical world. Furthermore, the universe can only be understood through the use of reason; truth being arrived at through empirical observation, the use of reason, and systematic doubt. The Enlightenment gave rise to two significant developments in thought: Empiricism and Mechanism. Empiricism maintains that human observation is a reliable indicator of the nature of phenomena, and that repeated observation can produce reasonable expectations about future events. Mechanism regards the universe as a machine that functions according to natural and predictable rules. Once the world is understood as a machine, then it may be manipulated for the benefit of humanity.            

Most of what we now know about colour is couched in Newtonian terms. Newton, who was one of the greatest scientific influences at the dawn of the Enlightenment, demonstrated that the spectrum of colour we commonly associate with the rainbow was derived from bending light through a prism – that light and colour were synonymous, thereby overturning the long held Aristotelian view that colour was a property of objects. As children of the Enlightenment, Newton and his successors continued their rational speculations and experiments, not least with light and colour. Consequently, since the late seventeenth century the study of light and its properties has become central to the domain of science in general and the field of Physics in particular. Scientific research in this field is constantly producing new information and the language to describe it is necessarily evolving and changing. Today light is thought of as electro-magnetic radiation visible to the human eye, and that which is visible to the eye is merely a tiny fraction of the known spectrum of electro-magnetic radiation. The part of the spectrum visible to the human eye is perceived as a variety of colours, but they are in fact specific wavelengths of light ranging between 400 – 800nm.

It is generally accepted in scientific circles that the experience of colour is a biochemical effect, taking place in the brain through the agency of specialised retinal cells known as rods and cones. These cells chemically respond to certain wavelengths of light, particularly the complementary pairs of red/green and yellow/blue. Through them we experience, recognise, and come to know colour, and there have been many attempts to formulate structures and systems that connect human biology and psychology to the mechanisms of colour vision. Doubtless this will continue, because the belief that physical exposure to different colours has a direct and measurable effect on human biology has been an important driving force behind scientific research into colour and colour theory over the last two centuries and shows little sign of falling out of favour today. Yet, one can’t help observing that as new and different branches of scientific endeavour emerge, the possibility of a simple contextual understanding of colour seems increasingly unlikely.

 On the other hand, when we step out of the ring-fenced domain of the material sciences we enter another realm altogether. It is a realm with which Portal is patently familiar and in which he is very comfortable, and it constitutes the main theatre of his work. To understand it, and him, we must accept, as he undoubtedly did, that we humans are more than physical creatures of earth limited to sensory perception alone. Indeed, we are creatures of light born of a light that emanates from a spiritual sun where colour is not simply a bye-product of chemistry but is the very soul of light, and as such is an analogue of the spiritual Adam that rests at the heart of the mystery of human existence. We should also note that in ancient times it was taught in the precincts of the sanctuary that we, as souls, descended to earth from the heights of heaven, and that during our descent we were clothed in a series of garments: first in an ethereal garment of non-material purity, then, successively, as we progressed through the planetary spheres, acquiring a solar garment, a lunar garment and finally a physical body.

This is, of course, more properly the domain of theology wherein light is understood to be not simply the source, substance and nature of colour as perceived by the senses, but the divine Light of God, a light that sustains all things yet is truly unknowable. This light has long been the subject of speculation among students of spiritual mysteries. Indeed, within the deeper teachings of the world’s religions it has generally been accepted that the infinite and ‘uncreated light’ of God cannot be known directly, but only by analogy, through the veils of archetypes and thought-forms that fill our world. For although we may be creatures of light our realm of experience is still, for the moment, the realm of created forms and not of the undivided essence. Thus what we perceive through the filters of the mind and the senses is only an analogue of the energies or activities of that ‘uncreated light’, because our means of perception are designed for a world of duality not a world of Unity. Consequently, for those who seek knowledge of the spiritual dimension of creation the language of symbolism is a necessary tool for an evolving understanding. It is a tool that opens the doors to the inner realm of the soul wherein metaphor and allegory play such important roles.

It is, perhaps, in the recognition of the divine nature of light, of its closeness with our perceptions of the true nature of consciousness that we as creatures have from the most ancient times sought to harness the virtues, powers, and qualities of colour within our lives, particularly in maintaining or restoring health. Indeed, according to the mythology of Ancient Egypt, the art of healing with colour was established by the god Thoth. Teachings attributed to him, which include the use of colour in healing, passed via the Hermetic tradition into the Greco-Roman world. Thus, both Ancient Egyptians and Greeks used coloured minerals, stones, crystals, salves, and dyes as remedies, and painted treatment sanctuaries in various shades of colour to enhance the healing process.

 

In Ancient Greece the understanding of the significance of colour grew, so it would seem, in tandem with the developing interest in the nature and function of the elements — fire, air, water and earth, particularly after Aristotle, the student of Plato, revealed to the world an interpretation of the nature of the cosmos that had been, until that time, an ancient teaching given only to initiates of the Mystery Schools. What he revealed was an understanding of the cosmos consisting of Heaven and Earth, and of the elements that formed them. The centre of the cosmos, he declared, was immovable and fixed and occupied by the life-bearing earth, the home of all mortal creatures. Whereas the highest part was called Heaven, the abode of the gods, which he described as being occupied by the divine bodies we call stars. The whole cosmos was understood to be spherical and continually turned upon a central axis at the extremes of which were to be found the Arctic and Antarctic poles, and at the centre the Earth.

The substance of the heavens he called Ether, a pure element that was divine, indestructible and unchanging. He described it as being in continual motion, forever revolving in a circle, moved by the power of God, which he called the ‘Prime Mover’. Of the stars contained within the heavens some moved only with the turning of the heavens themselves, forever occupying the same positions in the firmament. These he called the fixed stars. A pathway or road was formed in their midst by the Circle of the Zodiac. It was divided into twelve stations or regions known as the Signs of the Zodiac. This road was followed daily by the Sun and his attendant planets. They were not restricted in the same way as the fixed stars and were often referred to as the “Lords that wander”; nevertheless, they still had their allotted places, which Aristotle described as being seven concentric spheres, each successively encompassed by the next from the innermost to the outermost, which was in turn encompassed by the sphere containing the fixed stars. The sphere of Ether was understood to be governed by fixed laws that were free from disturbance, change, and external influence. 

In the centre of the cosmos lay the sublunary world consisting of four elements that are continually subject to change, external influence and disturbance, and consequently corruptible and perishable. Aristotle describes the outer ring of the sublunary world, as consisting of a fiery substance kindled by the Ether above it. Below this fiery element is the element of air, a substance that is naturally murky and cold as ice, but when illuminated and set on fire by motion it grows bright and warm. This element undergoes every kind of change imaginable, interacting with the fiery element above and the watery element below, for beneath the element of Air is the element of Water. Finally, located beneath the element of Water is the element of the Earth, firmly fixed at the centre of the Universe.

The five elements are thus arranged in concentric spheres forming five regions, the less being in each case surrounded by the greater – namely, earth, surrounded by water; water by air; air by fire; and fire by Ether, the total constituting the entire Cosmos. The outer portion (purple area) is that of Ether and represents the heavens, the dwelling of the immortal gods, whilst the lower is the elemental realm, the abode of mortal creatures. The four sublunary elements were thought to differ from each other only in their qualities. Thus, fire was understood to be hot and dry, air hot and moist, water cold and wet and earth cold and dry. It was believed that by changing one or both of their qualities it was possible to transmute one element into another. Such transmutations were thought to take place constantly, adding to the unpredictable nature of sublunary realm. (As a point of interest the mechanisms of this process have been central to Alchemy and the work of alchemists ever since).

These fundamental constituents of the world also corresponded with the four humours of human biology, as did colours: to Fire was attributed Choler and ‘yellow’ bile; to Air Sanguine and ‘red’ blood; to Water Phlegm and the colour ‘white’, and to Earth Melancholy and ‘black’ bile. These humours were thought to reside in four organs in particular — the spleen, heart, liver, and brain — and to determine emotional and physical disposition. Good health involved the proper balance of these humours, and disease would result if their mixture was in an unbalanced state. Colour was then considered intrinsic to restoring the balance. Coloured garments, oils, plasters, ointments, and salves were often used to treat disease. For example, in the first century AD Celsus followed the doctrines established by Pythagoras and Hippocrates, and included the use of coloured ointments, plasters, and flowers in several treatises on medicine. Avicenna, the great Persian physician, who lived at the turn of the second millennium, and whose books were a great influence upon European thought until the beginning of the Enlightenment in the eighteenth century, considered colour to be of vital importance in both diagnosis and treatment. He used colour in the treatment of sickness, insisting that red moved the blood, while blue or white cooled it, and yellow reduced pain and inflammation. He prescribed potions of red flowers to cure blood disorders, and yellow flowers or sunlight to cure other disorders. His methods were followed by many physicians; thus, in the sixteenth century Paracelsus regarded light and colour as essential for good health and used them extensively in treatment, together with elixirs, charms and talismans, herbs and minerals.

 The use of colour in healing is not uncommon today; indeed there are many examples of modern experimentation and exploration in the therapeutic use of colour. Modern technology allows us to look at the influence of light and colour on the biochemistry of the body in ways that would have been impossible a century ago. In recent times it has been discovered that in most if not all mammals there is a nerve pathway, unconnected with vision that links the eye directly to the Hypothalamus – the control gland of the Endocrinal Glandular System. Its role is not yet fully understood. A similar nerve pathway links the eye with the Pineal gland, a neuro-endocrine transducer (i.e. it translates nerve signals into hormonal messages). It is thought to influence the way a variety of chemicals, including melatonin, are released. Colour and light have also been applied in the field of Psychology. For example, in 1947, Dr. Max Luscher, Professor of Psychology at Basle University, developed a colour-based personality test that is widely used today. According to Luscher’s theory the colours red, green, blue and yellow represent the four pillars of human psychology. Blue corresponds with relationships with other people; Green corresponds with self-image; Red corresponds with the sense of exhilaration and passion and Yellow corresponds with the ability to adapt. Luscher’s diagnostic tests are commonly employed in psychoanalysis and in candidate selection programmes by employers and universities, as well as in marketing and advertising programmes.

Science may explain the mechanics of colour and to some extent, perhaps, its functional role in our lives, which is no bad thing, but there are dimensions science cannot enter, dimensions in which our relationship with light and colour transcends the rational processes of the mundane world. It is to this area that Baron Portal draws our attention. He introduces us to a world of symbols and symbolism wherein colour is a fundamental part of its language. He reminds us that it is an ancient language, as old as civilisation itself, in which colour is neither a biochemical reaction to radiation nor a feature of a given figure, but a manifestation of the energies of the essential qualities of a person, place or object, and as such adds another dimension of understanding to what is conveyed by their form. In simple terms colour leads us beyond the obvious significations of form into a world of varied and subtle meanings and Baron Portal’s extraordinary book sets a context whereby we may begin to explore that world.

If you want to know more about Symbolic Colours then visit

http://www.imagier.com/books/sc.htm

Alternatively, you can order a copy through your local bookshop.

Details: Symbolic Colours, by Baron Frederick Portal;
ISBN: 978-0-9558415-5-2, Price £12.50

 #brothermarcusodp