What is truth? Is there a truth? What is the relationship between our opinions and truth? What is the relationship between an idea, a thought, a thing we say, a thing we see, touch, feel or taste and truth? Since my youth, I have been asking myself these questions. When I was a kid, I used to take every opportunity to reason about the things that were being said. One such occasion was regularly on Sundays, after mass. It was the 1990s. Going to mass on Sunday mornings was a common practice in my hometown in the Veneto plain countryside. Each time I found myself commenting on the relationship between what was written in the readings and what was commented on by the parish priest. But not only that, I found myself questioning the people who had attended mass with me, noticing that they had often not followed the reflections that had emerged. They were distracted, while I found it interesting to dwell on the meaning of the words. As I grew up, I realised that Sunday Mass became an increasingly critical time for me in terms of my relationship with the sacred. I sought transcendence, but found it more in the architecture and paintings of churches than in the interpretations of homilies. I began to meditate, in simplicity, closing my eyes and sitting cross-legged. In silence. In time I also found the same dimension in butō dance and philosophy. I also met really interesting theologians and a parish priest who was particularly knowledgeable in his homilies. During this journey, I also came across alchemy.
The search for truth coincides with the philosophers' search for the stone. Everyone knows that alchemists seek the philosopher's stone. But what is it? It is certainly not a fable about immortality. Rather, it is a search for truth that involves both matter and spirit. Doing alchemy means weaving a profound relationship between things and ideas, between the visible and the invisible. The alchemical symbol represents the union of these two dimensions, simultaneously fused and disjointed. The philosophers' gold is truth, not a magical elixir of life. This is why alchemists declaim: ‘Aurum nostrum non est aurum vulgi’. However, could we not also say that he who knows the truth knows the true meaning of existence? Ultimately, in fact, truth indicates the authentic sense of the eternity of everything. But who, then, are the alchemists? The first chemists, obscure magicians, or ancient sages? The legends and stories that still paint alchemy as esotericism are of no particular interest to the perspective from which I invite you to look at it. In fact, according to the hermetic tradition, only those who possess the symbol will have an easy transit to the truth. Which means that only those who can unravel the authentic meaning of the symbolic image will have access to true knowledge. At stake, then, is truth. And truth, this is clear, is the central theme of philosophy.
Why start talking about philosophy by quoting an alchemical formula? Alchemists seek the stone of philosophers. Are they, therefore, philosophers? Etymology teaches us that ‘philosophy’ comes from the union of the Greek terms φιλεῖν (phileîn), ‘to love, to care for’, and σοφία (sophía), ‘wisdom’. So, to do philosophy is to love wisdom. But we also know that at the root of σοφία lies φῶς (phaos/phōs), ‘light’. Philosophy, then, means caring for what is in the light of the Sun. Put another way, to do philosophy means to dissolve the shadows, to unveil that which is hidden. Philosophy is concerned with ἀλήθεια (alétheia), ‘truth’, meaning ‘that which is not hidden’.
If alchemy veils its wisdom with the use of symbols, philosophy is concerned with dissolving the clouds of appearances to bring out the truth. There is no clear contradiction between the two perspectives. In fact, compared to philosophers, alchemists only intend to hint at the truth they have discovered by means of the symbol, leaving others the arduous task of deciphering its meaning. Approaching alchemy by taking the images suggested by the alchemists literally, even today, can lead us towards a fantasyland that can lose us in the fascination of legends that end up entangling us in the power of the imagination they are able to evoke, at the cost, however, of losing our way in the truth. The authentic sense of the opus opens up to those who possess the symbol and question the profound meaning of the philosophers' gold, which is not ordinary gold. Even the body, when it dances, becomes that gold and is illuminated. It is with this attitude that I invite you to approach the reading of the letters I am going to share, pushing your gaze beyond appearances, in search of the truth that, we shall see, has always and forever stood before our gaze.
Jung C.G., Psychology and Alchemy
Fina D., Dance and Alchemy