THE FLAME CODEX
LIR’MAH

The seven levels of consciousness

The Yoga of the Descent · Branch VII · Grace and the living body

“A level describes a function. It does not classify the person.”From Yoga del Descenso · Libro de la Morada

Perhaps something like this happens to you: at work you speak with enormous freedom, and in front of your mother you lose your voice. Or you know how to hold everyone up and you do not know how to receive. Or in meditation you recognize a Unity that embraces everything, and in the first argument of the day you react from fear. And then comes the question so many people ask themselves in silence: what level am I on?

In this Part of the book I invite you to exchange that question for another one. I am going to speak to you of seven levels of consciousness, yes. But what happens to you does not prove that a level is defective, or that you still have to climb. It shows you that a function can be available in one context and cost you in another. That is what a human life is like.

A useful and dangerous word

Level is a useful word, because it lets you recognize real differences. Being embodied is not the same as bonding; bonding is not the same as choosing; choosing is not the same as integrating what you feel. All of these functions belong to a single life, but they do not mean the same thing.

And it is a dangerous word, because the language of up and down very easily turns into a league table. Crown sounds more spiritual than pelvis. Vision seems more elevated than support. As soon as that reflex comes in, the axis stops being a house and becomes a social ladder. That is why I ask you to keep two sentences:

Below does not mean inferior. Above does not mean superior.

In the Yoga of the Descent, a level does not measure how much a person is worth or how far they have advanced. It names a function of consciousness: a way in which the Presence can take part in embodied life. Nor are these seven stages you must travel in order. A person can have a very broad understanding and still be learning to set a limit. They can be deeply embodied without using a single spiritual word. I explain the levels in an order because that is how teaching works, but your experience does not have to follow that index.

Seven ways for That to live as this

“They are not seven rungs toward God,” I write in the book. “They are seven ways of allowing That to live as this.” Let me walk through them with you, slowly, each with the question it asks of your life.

The Base, with its element Earth, asks: can you be here? Inside a body, on a given date, with hunger, tiredness, bills and commitments. To incarnate is to be able to say: I am here, this life is sacred too. It shows when you sleep because the body needs it, when you pay a bill, when you stay in a conversation.

The Pelvic level, with Water, asks whether you can bond, receive and generate without disappearing into whatever you meet. To bond is not to merge. That is why consent lies at the heart of this level: the capacity to say yes is only free when the capacity to say no remains intact.

The Abdominal or Solar center, with Fire, asks whether you can turn an understanding into a direction, and a direction into a concrete gesture. Here it helps not to confuse directing with controlling. Mature Fire does not shout “everything obeys.” It says something humbler: this is mine to do, and I will answer for it.

The Heart, with Water and Fire together, asks whether you can feel, discern and include without abandoning yourself or hardening. To love is not the same as to allow. To forgive does not oblige you to go back. Here the Trine Flame finds its most recognizable altar: Love feels, Wisdom sees, Will responds, and the heart gathers them.

The Throat, with Air, asks whether you can name and create without imposing or betraying yourself. When you say “this is what I lived,” “this is how I understand it today,” you leave room for the other person's territory.

The Frontal level, with Ether and Air, asks whether you can see clearly without becoming the owner of what you see. Feeling that you know what is happening to someone else does not mean you know it. Mature clarity leaves room to say “I don't know.”

And the Crown, with Ether, asks whether you can recognize the whole without abandoning the particular form you are. Unity is not uniformity: you and I are still you and I. “The Crown must be able to bow toward the root.”

The elements are not substances to be hunted for inside the body. They are languages of quality: Earth recalls support; Water, relationship; Fire, direction; Air, expression; Ether, spaciousness.

Verbs, not boxes

After walking through them, I want to set aside a misleading image with you: the levels are not seven objects inside you. They are seven verbs of a single embodied consciousness. To incarnate. To bond and generate. To choose and act. To integrate affectively. To express. To understand and see. To recognize Unity.

Thinking of them as verbs changes the question. You no longer ask which spiritual floor you live on. You ask which function is taking part here, and which one needs to listen to another.

Imagine you need to tell a hard truth to someone you love. Incarnation keeps you present in the body. Bonding reminds you that there is a real relationship. Will lets you choose and hold the limit. The Heart includes love and pain without confusing them. Expression finds the words. Understanding tells facts apart from projections. And Unity keeps the conflict from becoming absolute separation. One single conversation, and all seven are there.

That is why I do not use the quick language of “open” and “closed” as a diagnosis. No emotion lives in a single room. And if an experience does not fit any of the seven, it can stay unclassified. A mature system tolerates something being left out.

A vertical conversation

If the levels are neither a ladder nor compartments, what is the axis, then? It is the possibility that your functions organize themselves around a single life without any of them having to deny the others in order to act. I am not speaking of perfection or of the absence of conflict. I am speaking of a house whose rooms talk to each other.

When that conversation fails, life fragments in ways you will recognize: Vision understands, but Will does not act; the Voice speaks, but the Heart does not take part; Unity is recognized, but everyday life remains abandoned. These are not diagnoses. They are questions about how your functions relate.

Coherence shows better in the fruit than in the sensation. One person may feel a luminous axis and go on acting with little responsibility; another may feel nothing vertical at all and live with remarkable integration. And the body keeps its own prudence: warmth in the abdomen, pressure in the chest or sensations in the forehead do not certify any level. A symptom that is new, persistent or worrying is looked at first through the proper medical channel, before it is given a spiritual interpretation.

The axis is not a ladder. It is a vertical conversation.

This map is in dialogue with others, such as the map of the chakras, and in the book I study that dialogue carefully: study the resemblance, keep the difference. But no map rules over you. When it helps, it lets you read your life more precisely: perhaps what you lack is not love but the ability to express it; perhaps your search for Unity is asking for Base. When it does not help, you set it aside. Your territory still rules over our map.

The Crown crowns no one above anyone else. It reminds each person that every form takes part in a depth that no one owns.

From Dr. Zuluan Orion's book Yoga del Descenso · Libro de la Morada · Part IX