Vibrational Profile

Chakra is Sanskrit for “wheel.” The centres are not ancient anatomy but a teaching from the tantric traditions of medieval India, worked out in texts written roughly between the eighth and sixteenth centuries. Those texts do not agree on a count: depending on the school, the body has five centres, or six, or nine, or twelve. The familiar ladder of seven is one scheme among several — it comes from a sixteenth-century text describing six centres plus the crown — and it became the seven for a very ordinary reason: it was the version that got translated.

What the old sources actually describe is a practice, not an organ. The practitioner builds each centre in the imagination: a lotus at a fixed point on the sushumna, the central channel, with a set number of petals, a seed syllable at its heart — the LAM, VAM, RAM of this page's sound box — and a letter of the Sanskrit alphabet written on every petal, all fifty letters distributed across the body. The oldest chakra diagrams are, quite literally, alphabet diagrams. That is worth knowing on this site in particular: the idea that a sacred alphabet lives on the body did not begin with Kabbalah — the tradition behind the 22 letters arrived at the same idea separately. The corpus sets the two ladders side by side because they rhyme, not because either borrowed from the other.

Nearly everything a modern reader expects was added in the twentieth century. English readers largely met the system through a 1919 translation titled The Serpent Power, and the familiar layers arrived after it: the rainbow colours (see the colours drawer below), the psychological readings — safety, appetite, will, connection — the pairing with glands and nerve plexuses, and, latest of all, the earth-grid tradition of the late twentieth century that gives each centre a mountain. Each layer is a real tradition in the sense that people genuinely teach and practise it; the layers are simply of very different ages.

So the card above is, honestly, a layer cake: a medieval visualisation ladder, a modern psychology, and a recent geography, printed as one map because they share a spine of seven. None of it is a measurement — the page has already said so — and this drawer exists so you also know which century each line walked in from.

Each centre also carries a place on Earth. That comes from the earth-grid tradition, which pairs the seven centres with seven sites — Shasta, Titicaca, Uluru, Glastonbury, Giza, Kuh-e Malek Siah, Kailash — and treats the planet as a body with the same seven stations. The pairing is a chosen correspondence, held in the tradition and not derived from anything measurable; the coordinates themselves are just where those places are. The site's own grid instrument computes distances to exactly these seven anchors and says the same thing about them.

Put plainly: the seven sites were chosen, and everything downstream follows from that choice. Choose seven different mountains and every distance, every weighting, every “you are closest to the throat centre” changes with them. That does not make the map useless — it makes it a map of a decision rather than a map of a measurement, and the site would rather you knew which one you were reading.

The instrument that does the arithmetic is Your Place on the Grid, which takes any coordinates on Earth and reports which of these seven reach you and how strongly. It carries the same warning in its own words.