The practice of divination has long been embedded in the religious and esoteric traditions of cultures across the world. One particularly striking example is the use of mirror divination, or prasena, a ritual in which a prepubescent child gazes into a reflective surface to reveal hidden knowledge or foresee the future. This practice, as highlighted by scholar Sam van Schaik in a recent interview, appears in both Ethiopian and Tibetan traditions and has possible roots tracing back to ancient Babylonian magic. [1]
Such continuity across vastly different cultures raises compelling questions about the transmission and persistence of esoteric knowledge throughout history.
The Ritual and Its Cultural Manifestations
Mirror divination has been historically practiced in multiple religious traditions, often involving a spiritual mediator, typically a child, who, under the guidance of a ritual master, peers into a reflective surface to receive supernatural insights. In Ethiopian traditions, this practice is documented in both ancient manuscripts and contemporary ritualistic settings. In Tibetan Buddhism, it appears in esoteric texts and continues to be used in divinatory rituals conducted by monks and lay practitioners alike.
The use of children in such rituals is significant. Many cultures have believed that children, being less conditioned by worldly concerns, are more receptive to supernatural or spiritual forces. These divinatory practices align with similar practices found in the Greco-Roman world, where oracles and seers would enter trance states to communicate divine messages.
A Babylonian Legacy?
Van Schaik suggests that mirror divination may have originated in Babylonian magic before spreading both eastward and westward. Babylon, as a major center of esoteric learning, was home to extensive traditions of divination, astrology, and ritual magic. Texts from Mesopotamia describe forms of lecanomancy (divination using liquid in a bowl) and katoptromancy (mirror scrying), practices that share structural similarities with the Ethiopian and Tibetan rituals.
This hypothesis aligns with broader historical patterns of cultural diffusion. The Silk Road and other trade routes served as conduits for not only commerce but also religious and magical knowledge. Babylonian astrological systems influenced both Greek and Indian traditions, just as mystical and ritualistic practices traveled alongside Buddhist monks and lay merchants. The presence of mirror divination in both Ethiopia and Tibet suggests that it may be a fragment of a much older and interconnected system of spiritual technologies.
Esoteric Transmission and the Kundalini Connection
The cross-cultural presence of mirror divination raises intriguing parallels with other esoteric practices, including the concept of kundalini. Just as divination involves opening oneself to external spiritual influences, kundalini awakening in tantric traditions is described as an energetic activation that fundamentally alters consciousness. In both cases, the practitioner becomes a vessel for forces beyond the self, forces that can be interpreted as divine or, in some cases, as possessing spirits.
For those who have experienced kundalini awakenings through tantric or meditative practices, the sensation of an “other” presence taking control is strikingly similar to descriptions found in spirit possession traditions. The parallel suggests that some esoteric practices, whether labeled as divination, energy work, or spiritual awakening, may stem from the same underlying phenomenon, one that has been variously interpreted depending on cultural and religious frameworks.
Implications for Understanding the Occult Legacy
If mirror divination has indeed traveled from Babylon to the far reaches of Ethiopia and Tibet, it serves as a potent reminder that esoteric traditions are rarely confined to one religion or civilization. They emerge, transform, and persist across centuries, carried by those who practice them and reshaped by the cultures that adopt them.
For those exploring the intersection of ancient magic and spiritual deception, this historical continuity offers a crucial insight: many seemingly distinct mystical practices may share a common origin, one that predates organized religions and crosses the boundaries of geography and belief. As such, these traditions warrant deeper examination, especially for those who, like myself, have encountered their hidden dangers firsthand.
[1]Sam van Schaik, interviewed by Jonathan Samuels, Interview with Sam van Schaik (January 15-16, 2019), p. 12.
As a young practitioner, I was taught that the Buddhist tantras were revealed after the Buddha’s parinirvana (death). According to this myth, the Buddha appeared in a divine form to gods and advanced beings, delivering esoteric teachings that remained hidden during his lifetime. These secret instructions were entrusted to celestial beings, nāgas (serpentine spirits), and bodhisattvas, who later transmitted them when conditions were ripe. This framed the tantras as mystical extensions of the Buddha’s wisdom, distinct from his public teachings in the sutras.
However, modern scholarship, like Jacob Dalton’s work, suggests a different history. Instead of divine revelation, tantric rituals and methodologies likely evolved through independent ritual manuals rather than canonical scripture.
The Karma Kagyu Perspective
The Karma Kagyu tradition holds that tantras were revealed by Vajradhara, the Dharmakaya Buddha, through visionary transmission to highly realized beings like Tilopa. Some teachings were safeguarded by dakinis and nāgas, while others were hidden as terma (treasures) to be revealed later. These traditional narratives emphasize a mystical origin; however, Dalton’s research suggests that tantric Buddhism developed more organically, emerging from evolving ritual manuals.
If one takes the traditional Buddhist stance that tantra was revealed by the Buddha (or Vajradhara), then Dalton’s research presents a major challenge. It suggests that these teachings were likely developed and refined within Buddhist circles long after the Buddha’s time rather than being his direct transmission.
Sutras vs. Tantras
Sutras are foundational Buddhist texts attributed to the historical Buddha, emphasizing ethical conduct, meditation, and wisdom. These canonical scriptures are preserved in the Pali, Chinese, and Tibetan canons. In contrast, tantras focus on esoteric rituals, deity yoga, mantra recitation, and secret initiations aimed at accelerating enlightenment. Unlike sutras, tantras use symbolic, coded language and require initiation from a qualified teacher.
The Dunhuang Manuscripts and Ritual Manuals
The Dunhuang manuscripts, discovered along the Silk Road, offer insight into early tantric Buddhism. Dalton’s work with these texts suggests that tantric Buddhism initially developed through practical ritual manuals (Vidhis, Kalpas, and Sadhanas) rather than formalized scriptures. These guides were adapted and often discarded, making their historical traceability difficult.
Dalton found that these manuals were frequently appended to or inserted into Dharani sutras, but also existed independently.[1] This suggests that Buddhist rituals did not originate from sutras but were already in practice before being formally recorded in scripture.
The Evolution of Tantric Practices
By the fifth century, ritual manuals became prominent alongside Dharani sutras, marking a shift toward applied spirituality. The rise of altar diagrams, temple worship, and visualization techniques in Buddhist rituals coincided with Hindu esoteric traditions, reflecting a cross-pollination of practices.
Conjuring the Buddha: A Reversal of Scriptural Authority
Jacob Dalton’s book Conjuring the Buddha: Ritual Manuals in Early Tantric Buddhism, explores how tantric Buddhism is deeply ritualistic and magical, emphasizing that practitioners sought to conjure the Buddha rather than merely study doctrine.
A key argument in his work is that ritual practices predated and shaped canonical texts, rather than the traditional assumption that textual sources dictated practice. This challenges the linear evolutionary model that sees tantric Buddhism as a straightforward development from Mahayana sutras. Instead, Dalton suggests that lived ritual traditions influenced the formation of canonical texts, making tantric Buddhism a dynamic and experiential tradition rather than a purely doctrinal one.
Rethinking Tantric Buddhism’s Origins
Dalton’s research does not outright prove that tantra did not come from the Buddha, but it strongly challenges the traditional Buddhist claim that tantras were directly revealed by him (whether in his historical form or as Vajradhara). Instead, it suggests that tantric Buddhism developed as an evolving ritual tradition rather than being a fully formed teaching originating from the Buddha himself.
Here’s why:
Ritual Practices Evolved Separately from Canonical Teachings Dalton’s findings indicate that tantric practices were initially recorded in independent ritual manuals that were later appended to or integrated into Dharani sutras. This suggests that these practices were not originally part of the Buddha’s recorded teachings but emerged over time within Buddhist communities.
No Direct Scriptural Evidence from Early Buddhist Texts The earliest Buddhist texts, the Pali Canon and Mahayana sutras, do not contain fully developed tantric doctrines. Tantra, as it appears in Vajrayana Buddhism, became prominent centuries later, and its early development seems to be more of a gradual accumulation of esoteric ritual practices rather than a singular revelation by the Buddha.
Cross-Pollination with Other Esoteric Traditions Many tantric elements such as mantras, deity yoga, mandalas, and ritual visualization, resemble practices found in Indian Shaiva and Shakta traditions. This suggests that tantric Buddhism developed through cultural and religious exchange rather than being an entirely unique transmission from the Buddha.
A Shift in Scriptural Authority The fact that tantric practices existed before being formally written into Buddhist scriptures implies that tantric Buddhism may have been practitioner-driven rather than stemming from a singular enlightened source (such as the Buddha). The codification of these rituals into texts might have been an attempt to legitimize or systematize existing practices rather than recording an original revelation.
What This Means for the Traditional View
If one takes the traditional Buddhist stance that tantra was revealed by the Buddha (or Vajradhara), then Dalton’s research presents a major challenge. It suggests that these teachings were likely developed and refined within Buddhist circles long after the Buddha’s time rather than being his direct transmission. Whether this undermines the legitimacy of tantra as a Buddhist tradition depends on one’s perspective: traditionalists may argue that the Buddha foresaw and seeded tantric teachings in hidden ways, while scholars would argue that tantra is a later development influenced by various religious and ritual traditions.
[1] In Tibetan Buddhism, a Dharani Sutra is a type of scripture or sacred text that contains dharanis—extended formulas or phrases composed of Sanskrit syllables believed to carry spiritual power. These are similar to mantras but often longer and more elaborate.
The full transcript of the lecture cited in the article can be read here:
Speaker: Jacob Dalton, Ph.D. | Distinguished Professor in Tibetan Buddhism, UC Berkeley
Thank you, Sanjot, for inviting me. It’s a strange experience to speak to a home crowd.
I’ve given a couple of talks on this book before, and those were more formal, in-depth lectures on specific elements of the book. But since those are all available online, I decided to take a different approach today—something a bit more personal and informal. I want to talk about the process I went through in writing this book.
Since many of you, particularly those in my seminars, have probably heard me discuss these ideas countless times—ideas I’ve been working with for nearly 20 years—I hope this will be the last time you have to listen to me talk about them.
This book began taking shape after I finished my Ph.D. and moved to London to work at the British Library. I was hired by the International Dunhuang Project, which had received a three-year grant to digitize the Tibetan tantric manuscripts in the Stein Collection.
A brief word on the Dunhuang manuscripts: they were discovered over a century ago in a cave along the Silk Road, near the city of Dunhuang. They are a treasure trove for scholars of Chinese and Tibetan religious studies, containing some of the earliest materials we have in Tibetan.
As part of this project, I worked alongside Sam van Schaik to catalog the tantric manuscripts. It was an incredibly fortunate three years, as my interests aligned perfectly with the project’s goals, allowing me to read through the collection extensively.
As I began working through these manuscripts, I noticed that previous scholarship had largely relied on the existing catalog of Tibetan manuscripts in London. Rather than being constrained by that framework, I decided to read through the manuscripts one by one, which led to the discovery of many new treasures.
At the start, I was so excited by my findings that I rushed to publish a few articles. Looking back, I wish I could retract them—they were filled with errors. I simply wasn’t yet qualified to fully understand the collection. Realizing this, I paused my publishing efforts to re-educate myself on the early history of tantric Buddhism in India, which ultimately delayed the completion of this book for nearly two decades.
The book does several things at once. It uses the Tibetan tantric manuscripts from Dunhuang as a window into the development of tantric Buddhism in India. My previous book, Taming of the Demons, used the same manuscripts to explore early Tibetan history, but this time I wanted to contextualize them in relation to Indian developments. While I am not a Sanskritist, I undertook the challenge of examining this material from an Indian perspective.
Despite what Sanjot may have said, much of the book is quite technical, dealing with the evolution of tantric ritual and how it functioned as a system. However, two larger arguments underpin the book.
First, I emphasize the importance of ritual manuals. The book is, in many ways, a study of early tantric ritual manuals as a distinct genre, particularly those preserved in Dunhuang.
Second, influenced by my time at UC Berkeley and conversations with colleagues like Paula and Allan, I began approaching these texts through a more literary lens.
The Discovery of Ritual Manuals as a Distinct Genre
In 2004, while working on an exhibition at the British Library, I was asked to write catalog entries for several manuscripts, including a Chinese diagram of an altar for the worship of Uṣṇīṣa Vijaya. Not knowing Chinese, I sought help in translating it, and I soon realized that nothing in the Uṣṇīṣa Vijaya Dhāraṇī Sūtra itself corresponded to the ritual practices depicted in the manuscript.
This led me to investigate further, and I discovered multiple versions of the text—some with separate ritual sections, others with independently circulating ritual manuals (vīdhis). The Chinese canon preserved some of these, as did the Tibetan canon, while the Dunhuang manuscript represented yet another variant.
This realization led to a major breakthrough: I began to see that ritual manuals had a life of their own, distinct from the canonical scriptures. Using the Taishō Tripiṭaka, I traced the emergence of ritual manuals, finding that they first appeared alongside dhāraṇī sūtras in the second half of the fifth century and proliferated in the sixth and seventh centuries.
Surprisingly, I found no evidence of Buddhist ritual manuals before this period. This was a revolutionary moment for me—I realized that an entire genre, central to contemporary Buddhist practice, had emerged relatively late in Buddhist history.
Ritual Manuals and the Proto-Tantric Debate
This finding intersected with a longstanding scholarly debate about whether dhāraṇī sūtras were proto-tantric. Scholars like Michel Strickmann argued that they were, while others, such as Robert Sharf, disagreed.
I concluded that dhāraṇī sūtras themselves were not tantric but rather Mahāyāna texts. However, the ritual manuals associated with them were proto-tantric. These manuals became a kind of “literary Petri dish,” fostering experimentation, localization, and innovation in Buddhist ritual practice.
What made these ritual manuals so flexible was their non-canonical status. Unlike scriptures deemed the word of the Buddha, these were human-authored texts that practitioners personalized with notes, additions, and modifications. Today, we can still see this practice in Tibetan Buddhism, where individuals compile personalized collections of prayers and instructions.
Yet, because they were seen as unimportant, these manuscripts were rarely preserved—except in rare cases like the Dunhuang collection, which offers a unique glimpse into this otherwise ephemeral tradition.
The Literary Qualities of Ritual Manuals
A turning point in my thinking came when Paula, a literature scholar, asked me what defined ritual manuals as a genre. Until then, I had approached them purely as practical guides. But her question forced me to consider their literary qualities.
Unlike Mahāyāna sūtras, which recount the Buddha’s teachings in a narrative framework, ritual manuals speak directly to the reader, instructing them in the imperative tense: “Place the offering here. Hold the beads in your right hand. Recite the mantra 21 times.” This direct address collapses the distance between text and practitioner, drawing the reader into the ritual itself.
With the rise of tantra, another shift occurred. The imagined world of the Buddha, once distant in Mahāyāna sūtras, merged with the practitioner’s experience. Instead of merely praying to a Buddha, practitioners imagined themselves as the Buddha at the center of the mandala.
This change is vividly illustrated in an eighth-century Tibetan commentary, which states that before drawing a physical mandala, the practitioner must first visualize the true mandala hovering above it. Here, the imagined world takes precedence over the physical.
The Evolution of Tantric Ritual and Poetic Language
A key feature of tantric ritual manuals is their use of poetry at crucial ritual moments. While early manuals were mostly prose, later tantric texts incorporated poetic passages, particularly during initiations and moments of transformation.
For example, in an initiation ritual, the master bestows symbolic objects upon the initiate while reciting poetic verses. This poetic register heightens the ritual’s significance, marking it as a moment of spiritual transformation.
By the ninth and tenth centuries, entire tantric ritual manuals were composed in verse, blurring the lines between human and Buddha-authored texts. These poetic passages, rich in metaphor and imagery, were designed to induce visionary experiences in the practitioner.
Conclusion
The developments I have traced in ritual manuals culminated in the late eighth and ninth centuries with the rise of esoteric initiations, the fourth empowerment, and the direct transmission of awakening through poetic or symbolic gestures—hallmarks of later tantric Buddhism.
While I have limited my argument to the evolution of ritual manuals, it is tempting to see a connection between these literary developments and the emergence of direct transmission methods in traditions like Dzogchen and Zen. By the end of the eighth century, the transmission of awakening was no longer solely a doctrinal process but an experiential one, facilitated through poetic, symbolic, and ritual means.
As a young person, I was assured by a respected Tibetan Buddhist rinpoche that one could be both Christian and Buddhist. [1] He acknowledged that many had faith in Jesus Christ and claimed there was no contradiction between the two traditions. Yet, this assertion directly contradicts biblical Christianity. Whether well-intentioned or deceptive, he was wrong.
Tibetan Buddhism is often presented in the West as a tradition of wisdom and compassion, sometimes compared to Christianity. However, its fundamental tenets conflict with Christian doctrine, not only in rejecting a Creator God but also in its deep commitment to tantric practices that diverge from biblical teachings. Tibetan Buddhism’s fusion of Indian Buddhist philosophy, tantric practices, and Tibetan shamanism has resulted in a system where esoteric tantric laws supersede even the historical Buddha’s teachings, let alone Christian principles.
Tantric Roots: Beyond the Buddha’s Teachings
It is important to note that Tibetan Buddhism is not solely derived from the historical Buddha’s teachings but incorporates various esoteric influences, including elements from broader South Asian tantric traditions. Scholar Jacob Dalton notes that early Buddhist tantra developed ritualized practices such as mantra recitation and yogic breath-control techniques. Over centuries, Tibetan Buddhist tantra evolved beyond the Buddha’s original teachings, shaped by ongoing ritual innovations and textual developments rather than direct continuity with the Buddha’s doctrine (Dalton, “On the Early Development of Sexual Union in Buddhist Tantric Practice”) [2]
The Buddha’s original teachings emphasized ethics, meditation, and wisdom, not esoteric rituals, deity invocations, or secret empowerments, which later became central to Tibetan Buddhist practice. The introduction of tantric elements centuries after his death fundamentally altered Buddhism, aligning it more closely with Hindu tantra than with its original foundations.
The Fusion of Buddhism, Tantra, and Tibetan Shamanism
Tibetan Buddhism is not a pure continuation of the Buddha’s teachings but a blend of:
Mahayana Buddhism: Contributed philosophical concepts like emptiness (shunyata) and the bodhisattva ideal.
Kashmir Shaivism & Indian Tantra: Introduced deity yoga, secret initiations, and esoteric sexual rituals.
Tibetan Bon Shamanism: Integrated animistic practices, spirit invocations, and sorcery.
This synthesis was fraught with contradictions. The Buddha’s ethical teachings often clashed with tantra’s disregard for conventional morality, which, according to tantric texts, must be transcended for enlightenment. Tantric laws ultimately took precedence over traditional Buddhist ethics, justifying actions that the Buddha explicitly condemned, such as ritual intoxication, sexual practices, and deceptive methods of control.
Dalton’s book, The Taming of the Demons: Violence and Liberation in Tibetan Buddhism, highlights how tantric law overshadowed Buddhist nonviolence, allowing for ritual violence against perceived enemies of the dharma (Dalton, The Taming of the Demons). [3] This unresolved tension continues in Tibetan Buddhist circles, where lamas justify behaviors the Buddha would have rejected.
Idol Worship and the Biblical Condemnation of Tibetan Buddhism
Christianity explicitly condemns the core practices of Tibetan Buddhism, particularly idol worship, sorcery, and reliance on spiritual intermediaries outside of God. Scripture warns against such practices:
Isaiah 42:8 “I am the Lord; that is my name! I will not yield my glory to another or my praise to idols.”
Galatians 1:8 “Even if we or an angel from heaven should preach a gospel other than the one we preached to you, let them be under God’s curse!”
Deuteronomy 18:10-12 “There shall not be found among you anyone who… practices divination, tells fortunes, or interprets omens… For whoever does these things is an abomination to the Lord.”
1 Corinthians 10:20-21 “The sacrifices of pagans are offered to demons, not to God, and I do not want you to be participants with demons.”
Tibetan Buddhism actively promotes deity worship, ritual magic, and tantric initiations that invoke spiritual forces, aligning it with practices the Bible condemns as deceptive and demonic.
Two Paths That Cannot Be Reconciled
Despite modern claims of compatibility, Christianity and Tibetan Buddhism are fundamentally irreconcilable. Tibetan Buddhism is rooted in tantric laws that contradict the teachings of both the Buddha and Christ. It is not merely a philosophy but an esoteric system steeped in idol worship, occult rituals, and doctrines opposed to biblical truth.
An honorific title used to refer to highly respected teachers.
Jacob Dalton, On the Early Development of Sexual Union in Buddhist Tantric Practice, Journal of the International Association of Buddhist Studies, vol. 32, no. 1–2, 2009.
Jacob Dalton, The Taming of the Demons: Violence and Liberation in Tibetan Buddhism (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2011).
Kundalini has long been described as a latent energy residing in the root chakra, an evolutionary force waiting to be awakened. Across various esoteric traditions, this energy is believed to rise through the subtle body, purging karmic imprints, and ultimately merging with the crown chakra, culminating in what is often called spiritual enlightenment. But is this awakening truly a path to liberation, or is it something more insidious?
The Traditional Narrative of Kundalini
In Hinduism, kundalini is depicted as a coiled serpent at the base of the spine, lying dormant until activated through practices such as yoga, mantra recitation, or tantric rituals. Its ascent is said to be accompanied by profound energetic experiences such heat, visions, bodily tremors, and radical shifts in consciousness. Similarly, Tibetan Buddhism invokes powerful deities like Vajrayogini through tantric practice, where practitioners visualize and merge with these beings to achieve heightened states of awareness.
But what if kundalini is not simply an impersonal, evolutionary force? What if it is an entity, a being that takes possession of the initiate?
My Personal Awakening: The Force That Felt “Other”
During my three-year Tibetan Buddhist retreat, I engaged in rigorous tantric practices designed to accelerate spiritual transformation. I was instructed to visualize deities, recite mantras, engage in an extreme form of yoga and breath manipulation, replace my ordinary identity with that of the enlightened being, and then dissolve that conceptual construct into emptiness. At the culmination of my practice, I experienced a massive kundalini awakening, a phenomenon that, at the time, was being reported by many across various spiritual modalities, particularly in the nascent days of internet forums and search engines.
I was assured that kundalini was a benevolent force, the fuel for spiritual enlightenment, and a necessary purification process. But the experience was horrific. At its peak, in the midst of unbearable energetic torment, I saw the tantric deity I had been invoking appear above my head. She was trying to enter my body. I intuitively understood that what I was experiencing was her attempt to expand my nervous system so she could fully inhabit it. Whether that was for good or for ill I wasn’t sure. The kundalini energy always felt alien. Finally it dawned on me: it felt other because it is other. I have come to the conclusion that Kundalini is not just an neutral spiritual energy but a possessing spirit.
The Ancient Serpent Spirit Across Cultures
The realization that kundalini is a sentient force aligns with countless historical accounts of spirit possession in esoteric traditions. In Hinduism, Shiva and Kali are both associated with immense, transformative energy, often depicted in forms that suggest possession. Shiva’s wild, ascetic frenzy matches Kali’s violent, all-consuming nature. In Tibetan Buddhism, Vajrayogini and some other tantric deities are depicted in a similar manner. They are summoned and merged with the practitioner, suggesting an external force taking control of the body.
The ancient Greeks spoke of the Python spirit, a demonic entity associated with divination and oracles. The Bible recounts how the Apostle Paul encountered a slave girl possessed by the “python spirit,” a demon of fortune-telling, and cast it out in the name of Jesus Christ (Acts 16:16-18). The parallels between the descriptions of the python spirit and kundalini are striking. The spasms, altered states, and prophetic visions are all common signs of both kundalini awakenings and spirit possession.
Apostle Paul casting out the demon of divination from the servant girl.
Kundalini: The Spirit of the Serpent
What if kundalini is not the divine energy it claims to be? What if the spiritual transformations it promises are merely a baited hook leading to deeper and deeper possession? Many undergoing kundalini awakenings report disturbing symptoms: involuntary body movements, extreme heat, uncontrollable weeping, and even a complete breakdown of identity. These are not signs of enlightenment but of something powerful taking over.
In Christian theology, the serpent has always been a deceiver, from the Garden of Eden to the python spirit Paul cast out. In many indigenous traditions, serpent spirits are revered but also feared, as they often demand submission in exchange for their so-called “gifts.”
If kundalini is truly a possessing spirit, then its widespread activation in modern spiritual movements is not a path to liberation but a global initiation into deception. Esoteric traditions have long venerated the serpent, but history and scripture warns against it.
For those undergoing kundalini awakenings, it is crucial to question the nature of this force. Is it truly an impersonal divine energy, or is it an entity seeking a vessel? And if so, how can one break free from its grip?
The time has come to reconsider the nature of kundalini, not as an evolutionary force but as the ancient spirit of the serpent who, as deceiver, has masqueraded for centuries under the guise of enlightenment.
Hidden in the depths of Tibetan esoteric traditions, certain wrathful rituals exist that are rarely spoken of outside the inner sanctums of designated tantric practitioners. These rituals, designed for the destruction of a consciousness, are meant to dissolve its influence, perceived obstructive intent, or spiritual presence. While these practices claim to protect against malevolent spirits, they have, at times, been weaponized against living humans, including those who threaten to expose misconduct within Buddhist institutions.
The Ritual of Consciousness Annihilation
A specific type of tantric ritual involves an esoteric diagram, similar to the one depicted in the image above, where a human form is inscribed with powerful mantras, seed syllables, and esoteric symbols. There is a six-pointed blade weapon surrounding the victim. The six points of the blade correspond to the double triangle (hexagram-shaped) mandala of the chief deity in this lineage. If the deity and guru/s decide that the practitioner has broken the samayas (tantric laws), according to their system, the deity’s mandala turns into a horrific weapon that destroys the mind/consciousness of the victim. But this ritual doesn’t just affect the mind/consciousness, it also has a profound effect on the physical body. The victim’s body will be tortured extensively through a type of voodoo and the very shape of the person’s body will morph to resemble the figure in the diagram. This ritual serves to bind, neutralize, and dissolve a targeted consciousness, whether it be an external spirit, a human, or a “perceived” karmic obstruction. The ritual process follows a structured framework
Creation of the Diagram
The targeted consciousness is symbolically bound within a mandala-like formation.
Protective and wrathful mantras seal off escape routes.
Crosses and sigils mark the finality of the destruction process.
Invocation of Wrathful Deities
Mantras and visualizations call forth powerful, wrathful deities.
The deities are instructed to subdue, bind, and annihilate the “perceived” enemy.
The practitioner performing the ritual sees themselves as a manifestation of the deity, wielding its power.
Execution of the Consciousness
The bound entity is pierced, burned, or dissolved into emptiness.
Ritual implements, such as a phurba (ritual dagger), are used to cut through the energy ties of the target.
The ritual often ends with the destruction of the paper or material that carried the sigils.
The Four Wrathful Deities that Could be Used in Consciousness Destruction Rituals
1. Mahākāla (The Black-Cloaked Guardian)
Mahākāla is the supreme protector of the Dharma, known for his fierce nature. In the context of destructive rituals, Mahākāla is invoked to crush obstacles and eliminate spiritual threats. His iconography often features a black body, fiery aura, and skull garland, symbolizing the destruction of ignorance and negative forces.
Origins: Derived from Hinduism’s Shiva, Mahākāla was integrated into Buddhism as a Dharma protector.
Role in Rituals: Practitioners visualize Mahākāla’s fire consuming the obstructive consciousness, reducing it to emptiness.
2. Vajrakīlaya (Dorje Phurba, The Slayer of Demonic Forces)
Vajrakīlaya is one of the most feared wrathful deities in Vajrayana Buddhism. He is depicted holding a three-bladed phurba dagger, which symbolizes his power to penetrate and destroy negative karmic influences and malicious forces.
Origins: Introduced into Tibetan Buddhism through the great master Padmasambhava.
Role in Rituals: Vajrakīlaya’s phurba is symbolically plunged into the obstructive consciousness, shattering its energy and dispersing it into the void.
3. Dorje Legpa (The Enforcer of Vows)
Dorje Legpa is a lesser-known but highly effective Dharma protector, often depicted riding a snow lion. His primary role is to punish those who violate spiritual oaths and disrupt the Dharma.
Origins: A native Tibetan deity later assimilated into Buddhist protector pantheon.
Role in Rituals: He is invoked to hunt down malevolent forces, bind them in the diagram, and neutralize their influence.
4. Ekajati (The One-Eyed Protector)
Ekajati is a wrathful female deity, feared for her ability to cut off the life force of negative beings and obstructive forces. She is depicted with one eye, one tooth, and one breast, symbolizing her singular focus on eradicating spiritual threats.
Origins: A key protector in the Nyingma and Kagyu traditions, linked to Padmasambhava.
Role in Rituals: Practitioners visualize Ekajati severing the energy threads of the targeted consciousness, ensuring complete destruction.
Historically, these rituals were supposed to be used to eliminate spiritual and karmic obstacles, not to harm innocent people. However, in some cases, they have been repurposed as tools of suppression within Buddhist institutions. When fear, secrecy, and power dynamics come into play, these ancient magical practices can be wielded as weapons.
There are instances where individuals who were never a true threat to the Dharma were nonetheless targeted. Some have been subjected to these rituals simply because they possessed knowledge that could expose wrongdoing, particularly cases of sexual misconduct and abuse within monastic settings. Instead of facing accountability, certain powerful tantric figures within these circles have used their esoteric knowledge to attack those they feared might reveal the truth.
Karmic Consequences of Weaponized Tantra
From a Buddhist perspective, the intentional use of spiritual power to harm others, especially for self-serving reasons, carries immense karmic consequences. Perhaps this can explain why certain prominent lineages in Tibetan Buddhism face overwhelming obstacles, such as vicious infighting and shocking treachery.
If such a ritual is performed with malicious intent, the negative karma generated will eventually return to the practitioner.
Those who use these practices risk invoking their own downfall.
Consciousness destruction rituals are horrific tools of suppression and spiritual manipulation. The existence of these rituals, the fact that they abide within the sacred confines of the so-called Buddha Dharma, raises an important ethical question: Who decides what constitutes an “enemy of the Dharma” and how does this practice line up with the teachings of the historical Buddha that emphasize ahimsa or non-violence? And why aren’t spiritual seekers told the truth about these destructive practices before they sign their names on the proverbial dotted line. Even the most beatific seeming Rinpoche must know this sort of thing goes on behind the scenes. Withholding the truth about the dark side of Tibetan Buddhism is very wrong as it puts innocent people in harm’s way.
Moreover, for those who have been targeted, these rituals represent not just an abuse of spiritual power but a deep betrayal of the very teachings they were meant to uphold. Ultimately, any attempt to silence or destroy others through dark esoteric means will eventually meet its own hellish reckoning.
For many seekers, Tibetan Buddhism presents itself as a path of compassion, wisdom, and enlightenment. The colorful rituals, profound teachings, and the promise of an awakened state draw thousands into its fold. Yet, I found that beneath this altruistic exterior lies a deeply disturbing reality that has left many devoted practitioners feeling shattered and betrayed.
The Ignored Epidemic: Sexual Abuse and Victim Blaming
Sexual abuse within Tibetan Buddhist communities is not an isolated phenomenon, it is a systemic issue that has been ignored, dismissed, and, at worst, facilitated. Victims who come forward are met with disbelief and outright hostility. Rather than holding perpetrators accountable, institutions protect the accused, often elevating them to near-divine status, making any accusation seem like an attack on Buddhism itself. Survivors who speak out are gaslit into questioning their own experiences and sanity.
Many have spent years of their lives in service to Buddhist centers and teachers, sacrificing their time, finances, and personal aspirations in the belief that they were contributing to something greater than themselves. But when they are exploited or harmed, they are left with nothing to show for their time and effort.
Devotion Without Reward: The Disillusionment of Lifelong Service
Many who enter Tibetan Buddhist communities do so with sincere intentions, offering years, sometimes decades, of unpaid or underpaid labor to their teachers and centers. They are told that serving a lama is a privilege, a form of spiritual merit that will bring them closer to enlightenment.
But the stark reality is that this so-called merit often leaves people impoverished, physically exhausted, and emotionally drained. The promised rewards of spiritual progress and personal transformation rarely materialize in any meaningful way. Instead, the real benefits accrue to the teachers, who gain wealth, power, and unchallenged authority while their followers struggle to sustain themselves. Those who finally wake up to this exploitation often find themselves discarded, ostracized, and in some cases, actively harmed.
The Dark Side of Tibetan Tantra: Black Magic and Suppression
Tibetan Buddhism is often presented to the world as a practice rooted in loving-kindness and compassion. However, what is rarely discussed is the hidden world of tantric practices that extend into the realm of manipulation and harm.
There exist rituals and practices, known only to initiated insiders, that can be used to attack, suppress, or even destroy those who pose a threat to an abusive teacher. These methods are supernatural and are employed with impunity, while the broader community remains willfully unaware. Advanced practitioners in the know choose to look the other way, refusing to intervene even when witnessing outright harm. Worse, they glorify the abusers, reinforcing their power through public displays of devotion and praise.
The Complicity of the Buddhist Community
The silence and complicity of Tibetan Buddhist institutions and practitioners enables abuse to persist, both mundane and supernatural. In dharma communities where a lama is acting harmfully, those who know the truth either fear retaliation or believe that questioning a lama is a sign of spiritual failure. This culture of submission and blind faith creates a vacuum where predators thrive, shielded by the very people they exploit.
For those who leave, the road to healing is long and painful. The betrayal cuts deeply, not just from the teachers themselves but from the entire community that was supposed to uphold compassion and integrity. The disillusionment is profound, and the scars left behind serve as a haunting reminder of the dangers hidden behind the serene facade of Tibetan Buddhism.
Breaking the Silence
The only way to dismantle this system of abuse is to expose it. Survivors must be heard, their stories believed, and perpetrators held accountable. Blind devotion must give way to critical thinking. The world must recognize that behind the elaborate ceremonies and teachings, a toxic power structure thrives, one that has left too many people in ruins.
Tibetan Buddhism, as it is practiced today in many corners of the world, is not what it claims to be. Until it confronts its dark underbelly, it will continue to betray those who place their trust in its teachings. The truth must be spoken, no matter how uncomfortable it makes those still deceived by the illusion.
The hexagram symbol on the right depicts the mandala of an important Tibetan Buddhist female deity.
I was having a discussion with a former tantric Buddhist practitioner, and it got me thinking about the popular notion that all roads lead to God and that it doesn’t matter whether or not one has practiced in occult traditions as long as they are trying to live virtuous lives. This idea is comforting to many, but from a theological standpoint, it is deeply flawed. Not all spiritual paths lead to God, and certain practices, no matter how well-intentioned, can take people further away from Him rather than closer.
The Illusion of “Enlightenment”
Many believe that high-level Buddhist teachers or gurus have a special ability to perceive the karma of others. This belief leads followers to trust their guidance blindly, assuming they possess supernatural wisdom. But from a theological perspective, what these figures claim to see and know is not divine insight but a form of spiritual deception. The power they wield does not come from God but from spiritual forces that oppose Him.
The very concept of enlightenment in Tibetan Buddhism is fundamentally at odds with Biblical teachings. In this system, enlightenment is not about growing closer to God, but about achieving a state of being that makes one a vessel for spiritual forces that are hostile to Him. The gurus who have attained the so-called spiritual height of “enlightenment” have not reached divine truth but have instead become “perfectly possessed” by the spirits that fuel the tantric path.
The Reality of Spiritual Pacts
Participation in tantric initiations is not merely symbolic. The promises made in these rituals have serious spiritual consequences. When one makes commitments during empowerments, even unknowingly, they are entering into agreements that give authority over their soul to forces that do not serve God.
This is not a matter of personal interpretation. The laws governing these spiritual transactions are real, and those who understand the theology behind them recognize that they operate within a strict legalistic framework. The idea that someone can engage with these practices while remaining spiritually “safe” is misguided. The demons involved do not care whether a person understands what they have agreed to; once the ritual is completed, the spiritual consequences are set in motion.
The False Hope of Virtue Alone
A common misconception in modern spiritual thought is that simply being a good or virtuous person is enough to secure salvation. But righteousness apart from God does not lead to eternal life. If someone is actively engaging in spiritual practices that align with forces opposed to God, no amount of virtue can undo that.
As written in Deuteronomy 18:10-12, “There shall not be found among you anyone who burns his son or his daughter as an offering, anyone who practices divination or tells fortunes or interprets omens, or a sorcerer or a charmer or a medium or a necromancer or one who inquires of the dead, for whoever does these things is an abomination to the Lord.” Tibetan Buddhism’s reliance on occult rituals, divination, and spirit invocations falls into this category.
This is why it is crucial to educate people about these realities. Many well-intentioned individuals are being led into spiritual traps without realizing it. They are promised wisdom, peace, or power, but in reality, they are binding themselves to forces that seek to separate them from God permanently.
The good news is that no one is beyond redemption. Those who have unknowingly or knowingly engaged in these practices can still turn back to Jesus Christ, who alone has the power to break these spiritual bonds. The key is to recognize the deception, reject it, and seek salvation in Christ alone.
Our responsibility is to share this knowledge with others, so they, too, can be set free. It is not enough to hope that people will figure it out on their own. We must share the truth and help guide others away from deception and into the light of God’s salvation.
For 35 years, I was deeply immersed in Tibetan Buddhism. I devoted myself to its teachings, its rituals, and its promises of enlightenment. But along the way, I encountered something dark and realized that all was not as it seemed. And then, one day, I became aware of something that had lodged itself deep within me, waiting for the right moment to exert itself.
The First Encounter
In 2017, I awoke to the sound of a voice, not in a language I could recognize, but in guttural grunts and nonsensical syllables. It was not the voice of an external being; it came from deep within my own mind. It spoke from a place of severe mental challenge, a space I had never known existed within me. I was horrified. I had always been grateful that I was an intelligent person with an above average intellect, or at the very least, someone of average intelligence with a great deal of curiosity. But suddenly there was some part of my mind that seemed very mentally challenged. Was this a foreshadowing of a severe mental decline?
Or was this a demon? It turns out that a demonic parasite had burrowed deep into my mind during my years of tantric practice. I sought advice from a high-ranking Rinpoche, a man considered to be enlightened. His response? I should seek out the Chödpa at my Buddhist center, the lama known for performing Chöd, a ritual practice designed to cut through attachments and expel spirits.
But I had no personal connection with that lama. I had practiced Chöd myself before my kundalini awakening threw my world into chaos. I subsequently found someone else to perform the ritual, but nothing changed. The demon was a consciousness of severe limitation, a sentient being trapped in broken syllables and incoherence who sometimes surfaced in the early hours of morning, reminding me of its presence.
Understanding the Reason for the Demon’s Presence
By 2020, the demon’s presence began to make more sense.
Two of my most trusted gurus performed an annihilation ritual on me. After that, for months and years the Tibetan Buddhist gurus and their demons beat into me the notion that I would never be reborn as a human being again. I was destined to fall into the animal realms or worse, the hell realms, where I would remain for eternity. They tortured me, distorted my physical form, and severely twisted my identity. I lived in a waking nightmare. Slowly, painfully, I returned to the Catholic faith of my youth.
The demons fought back through harrassments and tortures. But over time, through exorcisms, prayer, and sheer endurance, I began to regain ground. Still, this particular demon lingered and resurfaced occasionally, groaning like a wounded animal within, its garbled words haunting me more than the voices of the very intelligent demons that manifested as my guru and yidam (meditational deity). Sadly, those two still somewhat control and torture me, especially at night when I am the most vulnerable, and in dreams.
Though I want to be free of all of them, in these past few months I have specifically prayed very hard that the cognitively impaired demon would be cast out as soon as possible.
The Exorcism
This week, I met a new priest. He is willing to help me. He will seek permission from his bishop to perform a major exorcism on me. Up until now, I have had one major exorcism, along with several minor exorcisms, or deliverance sessions, both in-person and over Zoom. But last week, I had my first session with this new priest.
After a long interview, where I shared my entire history, he performed an intense exorcism prayer in Latin. It was powerful. I drove home, exhausted. That night, I fell into a deep sleep.
The Expulsion
At around 1 AM, I woke up and prayed. The demons stirred. My mind flooded with bizarre images and then, something strange happened. I felt the nerves in my face ripple, from my right temple down to my mouth. And then, something left in a small gust of air.
I was stunned. Although I had experienced small demons leaving in puffs of air before, nothing that felt like this had happened.
An hour later, I felt a strong presence in my sinus area, between my eyes. A loud, pitiful groaning erupted from that area within me, like a dying animal. It went on for a couple of minutes, rising and falling. Then, it moved down into my throat and forced itself out with a significant burst of air. One or two smaller puffs followed.
The mentally challenged demon was gone. Not all of the demons left, by any means, the strongmen demons (the guru and yidam) still seem to be here. But something major left me that night.
The Battle Continues
This was just one more step in a long battle, but it felt like a victory. Tibetan Buddhism stole 35 years of my life, entangling me in a web of control, fear, and spiritual deception. But the truth is setting me free (as cliche as that sounds). The more I turn to Christ, the more the grip of these demons loosens. There is still more work to be done, but I believe I am one step closer to freedom.
I am very grateful to the priests and pastors who have prayed over me the past few years. It has had a cumulative effect. Deliverance is like peeling off the layers of an onion. For me, anyway, it has been a very gradual process. This week felt like a major victory. The battle is not over by any means, but I will not stop fighting until I am free.
I recently listened to a fascinating and unsettling account from a young Asian woman who had a profound spiritual experience after converting to Christianity. She described being shown various demonic realms, places that at first appeared luminous and beautiful but were, in reality, realms of deception and bondage. One of these realms stood out to her in particular.
She recalled that upon entering, everything seemed overwhelmingly radiant, almost heavenly. Had she not been given divine insight, she would have mistaken it for paradise. But as she looked deeper, the illusion crumbled. The ruler of this realm was a powerful female demon who often appeared to her in the form of a sweet, innocent little girl. Yet behind this deceptive facade lay a being of immense control and manipulation.
The woman recounted a terrifying moment when she found herself completely paralyzed, unable to move or wake up, an experience eerily similar to what I endured many times during my own tantric Buddhist retreat. Although she tried to cry out for help, her voice was muted and she wasn’t able to make a sound. This also happened to me. The presence she describe, this seemingly innocent yet domineering entity, was one I, too, had encountered, appearing to me repeatedly in the guise of a little girl.
What struck me most about her testimony was the nature of perception in these deceptive realms. She was shown that those who followed the demon experienced twisted illusions: what seemed pure and good was, in truth, horrifying. She gave the example of one disciple enjoying what he believed to be the most delicious meal, but when the illusion was stripped away, it was revealed to be putrid, bloody, and rotten. The demon had blinded her followers, warping their perception of reality.
Hearing this, I couldn’t help but think of certain so-called “pure realms” I once believed in. Could it be that what many perceive as celestial paradises are, in fact, carefully crafted demonic illusions and that what seems like liberation is, in reality, a deeper form of enslavement?
This woman’s testimony confirmed something I had long suspected: some of the most dangerous deceptions do not come in the form of overt evil but in the guise of beauty, power, and enlightenment. If we are not discerning, we risk being ensnared by realms that promise transcendence yet drag us into darkness.
For some years, I lived in a small retreat house at a Tibetan Buddhist center, nestled in a quiet, wooded landscape. It was a new, meticulously clean space with no rotting food or garbage. There was nothing that should have attracted swarms of flies. Yet, there they were: clinging to the screens on the front of the house, a dark, buzzing mass that never seemed to disappear. It didn’t matter the season, the weather, or my efforts to get rid of them.
At the time, I was undergoing what many in the spiritual world would call a Kundalini awakening, an intense, often overwhelming process where powerful spiritual energy rises through the spine, the chakras, and the channels of the subtle body. But there was nothing peaceful or transcendent about what I was experiencing. Instead of clarity and enlightenment, I suffered intensely. My body burned, my mind was tormented, and I felt under siege.
During that time, I was receiving visits, both physically and astrally, from various gurus and deities associated with Tibetan Buddhism. They would appear in dreams and visions, and in ways that were difficult to explain in rational terms. Despite these encounters, my suffering deepened. My body felt like it was being torn apart, my mind filled with fear, and my energy drained to the point of collapse.
As I struggled, I began to suspect that the flies weren’t just a coincidence. In spiritual traditions across the world, flies have long been associated with decay, demonic forces, and sorcery. In Christianity, Beelzebub, one of the chief demons, is known as the “Lord of the Flies.” In some indigenous shamanic practices, swarms of flies indicate spiritual corruption or an entity feeding off suffering.
Tibetan Buddhism, for all its outward beauty and mystical allure, is deeply entwined with tantric and shamanic practices that most Westerners don’t fully understand. Tantric rituals involve elaborate visualizations, empowerments, and the summoning of deities. But these deities are not mere symbols but are powerful spiritual forces. When a practitioner takes part in these rituals, they are essentially opening doors to these entities, inviting them into their lives, their minds, and their bodies.
I came to realize that I was not simply experiencing the effects of Kundalini awakening, nor was I being guided by compassionate, enlightened beings. Instead, I was being attacked, manipulated, and drained by forces I had unknowingly allowed in. The gurus I had once trusted, who claimed to be working for my spiritual liberation, were not what they seemed. Whether knowingly or unknowingly, they had unleashed something dark into my life.
The flies at my retreat house were more than just a physical nuisance. They were an omen, a manifestation of the unseen forces at play. They clung to my house as the spiritual attacks intensified, seeming to feed off the energy of my suffering. Eventually after two or three years, the flies dropped off, but my troubles had only begun.
For those drawn to the mystical allure of Tantra and Tibetan Buddhism, I offer a warning: things are not always what they seem. Beneath the beautiful rituals, the elaborate thangkas, and the poetic teachings lies a world that can be deeply dangerous. The spiritual forces summoned in these traditions are real and they do not always have your best interests in mind.
If you find yourself suffering inexplicably, if you are experiencing intense spiritual distress, and if strange phenomena, like the endless buzzing of flies, begin to manifest around you, pay attention. Sometimes, it’s a warning that demons have been summoned to destroy your life.
Tantric Deception 