According to Latin, Axis Mundi means ‘navel of the world’.
And according to the ancients, the Axis Mundi was the true centre of our planet, but rather than being a specific and existing place, it was more of a channel, a passage, a conduit.
This canal has assumed various and quite popular forms during the centuries; however, the most favoured of them all is certainly a tree. Or perhaps, The Tree.
Throughout spiritual histories and in divine terms, this trunk is a concept, a metaphorical axis that, although in the sciences it pierces the earth from the north to the south pole, in religions it springs from the centre of the world, into the surface, and up to the skies. A cosmic bridge that connects the underworld, the mortal one, and the heavens, transcending from its roots, then its trunk, and finally its branches. Countless are the important trees mentioned and named through the times, like the well-known Tree of Knowledge in the Garden of Eden in the Bible, or Kabbala’s Tree of Life in Islam, or the Buddha’s Bodhi Tree, or even the Yggdrasil where Odin was bestowed enlightenment in Norse mythology.
They say that “we’re all under the same moon”, meaning that whether we’re on one continent or another, we gaze at the same pearl in the sky. I believe the identical thing can be said about trees, for they have long existed before we even walked the earth and will long after we are gone. Many trees have withstood the test of time, transcending through space and entire eras of the human race, further proving themselves in channelling the true significance of cosmic points.
However, as I already wrote, the Axis Mundi cannot be simply reduced to a picture or image. Like its meaning, it transcends embodiments, acquiring the shape of a mountain, a tower, a column of fire, or even a man. A difficult notion for people who live in a world dictated by science and rigid rules, but a mind-opening one for people who let their beliefs stretch and wander even for a bit.
In lots of cultures, mountains are one of the greatest examples of an Axis Mundi. Its physical vicinity to the skies and the presence of caves make these sacred places more spiritual than mortal. Some civilisations recognised more than one place, like the ancient Greeks with Delphi and Mount Olympus; others recognised any temple as an Axis Mundi, where worshipping, altars, and incense functioned as protagonists in connecting the middle world with the upper one.
The Kaaba, pagodas, pyramids, ziggurats… each of them a bridge, but they cannot all be the Axis Mundi, right?
Perhaps, or perhaps they all are.
The theory of a navel of the earth becomes even more interesting when linked to men. The human body can be an expression of the world axis, transforming its abstractness into more concreteness once it meets mortal flesh. Christians recognise Jesus as both man and god, anchoring both the heavens and the human realm. The Buddha is regarded as the representation of the world centre, taking also into consideration how in Hinduism and Buddhism people believe in the colonnade of our physical body, with the chakras that are energy points aligned along our spine, mirroring the celestial pathway. A great example in art is the Renaissance image of Da Vinci’s Vitruvian Man, where the human form is explored mathematically and symbolically—an avant-garde study that, yes, is scientific but philosophical as well. Men traverse the Axis Mundi in shamanism; we are directly impacted by the celestial realms in astrology, and in countless other religions, we are the bridge.
We are the link, the connection, the tree.
Crazy notion to keep in mind, right?
Whether you believe it or not, I think it’s extremely fascinating how such a precise concept can be so factual and metaphysical at the same time. How either a mountain, we humans, or a tree epitomises what is supposed to be the centre of the world. Astounding is how generations are portrayed with family trees, standing through the passage of time as a testament to who we were and who we are. I love each and every single form, for they’re all manifestations of research and a desire to connect with something bigger than us.
Channelling completely how lonely human beings can be, but how lovely they are when looking for something above and beyond.
Up, The Dephts of the Forest by Giuseppe Camino (19th century)
Sources:
Le Petit 3, Tree of Life: Our Arbor Ancestors, October 2024 (monthly newspaper)
The Library of the Unseen 
Beautiful description of my sign! Thank you ☺️ 😘😘