Charisms of the Saints vs. Siddhis of the Gurus: Divine Gifts vs. Demonic Deceptions


In the late 19th century, a young Italian lawyer named Bartolo Longo wandered the outskirts of Pompeii consumed by despair. Once a zealous Catholic, Bartolo had been “consecrated a satanic priest” in a Neapolitan occult circle, even promising his soul to a demon. He presided over dark rituals and blasphemed the Church, but the wages of serving Satan swiftly took their toll. Haunted by diabolical visions, paranoia, and suicidal depression, Bartolo felt his sanity slipping. On the brink of taking his own life, he suddenly heard a familiar voice – the voice of his old Dominican mentor echoing in his mind, repeating the Virgin Mary’s promise: “One who propagates my Rosary shall be saved.” In that moment, light pierced his darkness. Bartolo fell to his knees and vowed to devote the rest of his life to God, spreading the Holy Rosary as a penance and path to salvation. The former Satanist renounced the occult and embraced a life of heroic virtue. He would go on to build the Basilica of Our Lady of the Rosary in Pompeii and be acclaimed by Pope St. John Paul II as the “Apostle of the Rosary.” He will be canonized a saint in the fall of 2025. Bartolo Longo’s dramatic conversion sets the stage for a stark spiritual contrast: the true charisms of the saints versus the counterfeit “siddhi” powers of occult mystics.

Charisms: Miracles Born of Holiness and Submission to God

In Catholic tradition, charisms are supernatural gifts granted by the Holy Spirit to holy men and women for the building up of the Church. Whether humble or extraordinary, every authentic charism serves God’s glory and the good of souls, not the ego of the individual. These wonders blossom only in the soil of sanctity for they are fruits of a life surrendered to God’s will. The Church teaches that charisms must be discerned and always align with charity and truth. In other words, genuine miracles flow from holiness and obedience, never from personal ambition or curiosity.

The lives of the saints abound with such holy marvels. For example, St. Padre Pio of Pietrelcina (1887–1968) manifested numerous charisms that stunned the world. This humble Capuchin friar bore the bleeding wounds of Christ (the stigmata) for 50 years and endured vicious demonic attacks at night in union with Christ’s passion. Thousands of witnesses attest that Padre Pio could read hearts and souls in the confessional, knowing penitents’ sins before they spoke. He was often observed in bilocation, mysteriously appearing to comfort people hundreds of miles away while simultaneously remaining in his monastery. He healed the sick by his prayers (sometimes before they even asked), and he gave prophetic counsel. Famously, he foretold that a young Polish priest (Karol Wojtyła) would ascend to “the highest post in the Church,” years before Wojtyła became Pope John Paul II. All these miracles Padre Pio worked he attributed entirely to God. “I am only a humble friar,” he would insist, pointing all acclaim back to the Lord. His motto, “Pray, hope, and don’t worry,” reflected total trust in divine Providence. In every sense, Padre Pio’s charisms were gifts from God, signs following the faith of one who sought only to do God’s will.

Other saints, too, manifested astounding gifts by God’s grace. St. Joseph of Cupertino, a 17th-century Franciscan, was known as “the Flying Friar” for his frequent levitations during ecstatic prayer. Scores of witnesses, including skeptics, saw Joseph lifted off the ground, sometimes soaring high above the altar, whenever he fell into rapturous contemplation of God. This was no occult trick but a God-given ecstasy, so reliable that it embarrassed Joseph and his superiors (who often transferred him to avoid drawing crowds). Similarly, St. Catherine of Siena in the 14th century had a charism for casting out demons, such was her holiness in spiritual warfare. St. Martin de Porres (1579–1639) humbly bilocated and performed miraculous healings among the poor and sick of Lima. St. John Vianney, the Curé of Ars, could read souls and endured demonic harassment nightly as he drew throngs of sinners back to God. From the earliest apostles (healing the sick with St. Peter’s shadow in Acts 5:15) to modern blesseds like Bartolo Longo himself (whose restored Marian shrine in Pompeii became a locus of miracles), the Church recognizes these phenomena as authentic charisms only when they align with holiness and truth.

Importantly, the saints never sought supernatural gifts for their own sake. On the contrary, many pleaded with God to remove such signs, fearing they might attract attention or pride. Padre Pio, for example, prayed that his visible stigmata would vanish so he could suffer in secret. The holiest souls flee notoriety, embracing suffering and humility. Miracles then follow as God wills, to bear witness to the Gospel. The Catechism of the Catholic Church emphasizes that even remarkable charisms must be exercised in humble conformity to God’s love, and always subject to discernment by Church authorities. In short, the saints did not control or command these gifts, they received them. And they received them only because they first surrendered their lives in total obedience to Christ. The true power behind charisms is God Himself. As Scripture says, “No prophecy ever came by the will of man, but men moved by the Holy Spirit spoke from God” (2 Pet. 1:21). So it is with every healing, prophecy, or miracle of the saints: it is the Holy Spirit at work, a divine gift freely given, never a humanly engineered skill.

Siddhis: Occult Powers and Deceptive Feats of Tibetan Gurus

Contrast this with the siddhis, the flashy supernatural powers claimed by certain Eastern mystics, such as Tibetan Buddhist gurus and Hindu yogis. In the yogic Buddhist tradition, siddhis are paranormal abilities supposedly acquired through esoteric meditation practices or occult rituals. They include feats like clairvoyance (third-eye “vision”), telepathy, levitation, astral travel, bi-location, materialization of objects, extreme control over bodily processes (e.g. stopping the heartbeat or generating intense inner heat), and even the manipulation of matter and weather. The Tibetan landscape of legends and hagiographies is rich with such tales, but from a Catholic perspective, these awe-inspiring siddhis are dangerous illusions springing not from sanctity, but from the influence of demonic forces.

Tibetan Buddhist lore celebrates figures known as mahasiddhas (“great adepts”) who achieved mystical powers. Perhaps the most famous is Milarepa (c. 1052–1135), a yogi revered in Tibet as a great saint. Milarepa’s life story itself is telling: as a young man he learned black magic to avenge a family injustice, invoking demons to slaughter his enemies with a magical hailstorm, an act for which he later repented. After apprenticing under a Buddhist master, Milarepa underwent austere meditation retreats in mountain caves for years. He is rumored to have attained an array of astonishing powers, including the ability to levitate and fly, to walk or sleep while suspended in mid-air, and to transform his body into any shape he wished, even transmuting into fire or water. He could supposedly heat his body internally through tummo yoga to survive subzero winters clad only in a thin cotton cloth. Tibetan paintings often depict Milarepa in a cave, hand cupped to his ear, while effortlessly defying gravity in meditation. Notably, even in Buddhist accounts these abilities were regarded with caution. They were “occult powers” (in Milarepa’s own tradition, siddhis are considered byproducts of spiritual practice, not the goal). In Catholic eyes, such feats are not miracles from God, for Milarepa did not worship the true God; rather, they smack of the preternatural tricks of fallen angels. Indeed, the levitation of Milarepa and others like him stands in stark counterpoint to the levitations of a St. Joseph of Cupertino, one source being occult and the other divine.

Even in modern times, Tibetan Buddhist leaders continue to be credited with paranormal siddhis. Devotees of the late 16th Karmapa, Rangjung Rigpe Dorje (the head of the Karma Kagyu sect, who died in 1981) recount numerous extraordinary deeds. As a child, the 16th Karmapa reportedly displayed clairvoyance, unerringly telling local villagers where their lost animals had wandered. He was fond of birds and was said to put dying birds into a trance so that they stood upright for days after death, a ritual interpreted as guiding the birds’ consciousness to a better rebirth. In 1974, during a visit to a Hopi Indian reservation, the Karmapa performed a ceremony wearing his ritual Black Crown and, as the story goes, ended a 75-day drought by summoning a sudden downpour of rain. There are accounts of Tibetan masters (in various schools) who allegedly teleported or projected astral doubles of themselves across great distances, or who upon death shrunk their corpses to a fraction of normal size accompanied by rainbow lights, the famed “rainbow body”phenomenon that Tibetan Buddhists consider a sign of ultimate realization. All of these siddhis are celebrated within their respective circles as evidence of spiritual attainment. But are they from God? The Catholic answer is a resounding no.

From a Christian standpoint, it is suspicious that these powers arise in those who do not even acknowledge Jesus Christ as Lord, and often in tandem with pagan or occult rituals. The 16th Karmapa, for instance, appeared to be a kind and compassionate man by worldly accounts, even meeting Pope Paul VI, but the source of his “miracles” is highly suspect. Some lamas who knew about his secret magical activities were afraid of him, and after he died, his lineage split apart in a bitter conflict that continues to this day. Performing rain ceremonies invoking Tibetan and territorial or “local” deities (in reality, demons masquerading as gods) is a form of sorcery, explicitly forbidden by Scripture and the Church. The clairvoyance displayed by such gurus parallels the “second sight” of spirit mediums, an ability which the Catechism identifies as false divination that “conceals a desire for power over time, history and other human beings”, in competition with trust in God. And while Catholic saints healed by prayer or expelled demons in the name of Christ, Tibetan lamas employ mantras, secret empowerments, and spirit invocations to wield siddhis.

Jesus warned that “false christs and false prophets will arise and show great signs and wonders to deceive” (Matthew 24:24). The siddhi-working guru fits this warning: no matter how benevolent they seem, if they lead people away from the True God, their wonders are meant to deceive. The Church Fathers and theologians have long taught that demons can produce preternatural phenomena to ape God’s miracles; these are known as “lying wonders”intended to ensnare the unwary. St. Thomas Aquinas affirmed that demons, by their angelic nature, can manipulate matter and human perception, performing impressive tricks (though never true creation ex nihilo) to bolster false religions. An occult practitioner “levitating” or a lama conjuring rain is akin to Pharaoh’s magicians mimicking Moses: infernal sleight-of-hand permitted to test the faithful. What’s more, any apparent good that comes from siddhis is a bait on the hook (I can attest to this from personal experience), and a brief benefit to bind people to demonic influence in the long run.

The True Source: Holy Spirit vs. Occult Spirits

To discern the difference between a saint’s charism and a guru’s siddhi, one must examine the source and fruit of each. True spiritual gifts originate from the Holy Spirit and bear the fruits of the Spirit such as conversion, humility, charity, peace, and truth. By contrast, occult powers (no matter how wondrous) stem from unholy spirits and ultimately yield rotten fruit such as pride, confusion, spiritual bondage, fear, harm, and falsehood. The Catholic Church explicitly warns that seeking supernatural power apart from God’s will is a grave sin that opens one to demonic influence. The Catechism states unequivocally: “All forms of divination are to be rejected: recourse to Satan or demons, conjuring up the dead or other practices falsely supposed to ‘unveil’ the future… Consulting horoscopes, astrology, palm reading, tarot, interpretation of omens and lots, the phenomena of clairvoyance, and recourse to mediums all conceal a desire for power… They contradict the honor, respect, and loving fear that we owe to God alone.” 

Likewise, “all practices of magic or sorcery, by which one attempts to tame occult powers… to have a supernatural power over others, even if for the sake of restoring health, are gravely contrary to the virtue of religion.” In short, to seek or use siddhis is to break the First Commandment, usurping God’s authority and bartering with demons for knowledge or power. No matter if one’s intention seems good (“healing” or “enlightenment”), the act of grasping at occult ability is a Faustian bargain and an invitation for the demonic to take control.

By contrast, the Church praises the charisms of the saints precisely because the saints never sought them. They sought only God, and God freely bestowed gifts as He pleased. There is no technique in the Catholic Church to get a charism: no incantation or secret method, only growth in holiness and prayer, which is itself at God’s initiative. Charisms are received in prayerful surrender, whereas siddhis are seized through ritual manipulation. A Tibetan guru meticulously follows occult protocols (chants, visualizations, yoga postures, ritual offerings) specifically to gain powers (the ordinary and extraordinary siddhis), a fundamentally prideful endeavor, however cloaked in spiritual language. A saint, on the other hand, often doesn’t even know they have a gift until it manifests unexpectedly to meet a need. Consider the fruits: When a saint works a miracle, people are healed physically and spiritually. Bodies are mended and hearts turned to Christ. When an occultist displays a wonder, observers might be astonished or entertained, but are they led to repentance and faith in the true God? Or are they lured deeper into fascination with the supernatural for its own sake? The answer is clear. God’s miracles always point back to God increasing faith, hope, and love. Demonic wonders point away from God toward ego, secret knowledge, or exotic spiritualities divorced from Christ.

Even the emotional aura surrounding these phenomena differs. True charisms, though extraordinary, convey a sense of peace, joy, and sacredness. Witnesses of a saint’s miracle often report a deepened devotion or the presence of God’s love. By contrast, siddhis and occult feats often carry an air of thrill, fear, or agitation (i.e. the kundalini phenomena produces a range of frightening symptoms). The devil can dazzle the senses, but he cannot impart true peace. How telling that Bartolo Longo, when he was deep in the occult, was tormented by depression and insanity; only when he returned to Christ did he find freedom and joy. Many who dabble in New Age or Eastern occult practices experience initial wonder, but later are plagued by nightmares, oppression, or a crippling pride. The devil demands a pound of flesh for every favor. As Jesus said, “By their fruits you will know them” (Matt. 7:20). The fruits of siddhis, no matter how impressive, are ultimately bitter. The fruits of the Holy Spirit are sweet and life-giving.

Testimonies of Deliverance: Warnings from Those Who Escaped the Occult

The stark difference between charisms and siddhis is not just theoretical, it is confirmed by the testimonies of those who have escaped the snare of occult practices. Modern Catholic exorcists and former occultists have sounded the alarm with firsthand experiences. Monsignor Stephen Rossetti, an exorcist, recounts numerous cases of people who thought they had natural “psychic” or healing gifts, when in fact these abilities were coming from demons. One woman who had worked as a New Age healer could see spirits and perform cures; after her return to the Church, Msgr. Rossetti counseled that her former “gift” was really an occult third-eye opened by demonic influence, not a charism from God. Only through renouncing all occult ties and intense deliverance prayers over years could such preternatural abilities be purged of dark influences. This illustrates a crucial point: Satan may grant a person a facsimile of healing or clairvoyance for a time, but it’s a Trojan horse, enslaving that soul to his dominion.

A particularly striking testimony comes from a woman who spent 35 years deeply involved in Tibetan Buddhism. She believed in the gurus’ powers and the Buddhist deities until she started to see strange behaviors and have doubts. The deities and the gurus considered her doubts to be “wrong views” and attacked her. The guru performed a horrific annihilation ritual upon her using an effigy ( a form of black magic). She reported a terrible realization: “I was tricked and deceived into believing that Buddha was the same as God… The group’s deities were actually demons and the gurus were their minions.” Ultimately, the gurus cursed her and threatened her with ‘the worst hell imaginable’, and she began suffering intense physical and mental assaults from demonic forces. Only through the power of Jesus, frequent confession, attending Mass, praying the Rosary, did she start finding liberation. This survivor now works to warn others: what Tibetan Buddhism presents as enlightened masters and benevolent spirit guides were, in truth, agents of Satan dragging souls to perdition. Her story is a sobering confirmation that occult powers always come at a terrible price. The devil may masquerade as an angel of light or even as a compassionate “bodhisattva,” but when unmasked, the fangs show. As the survivor put it, those who unwittingly worship these “gods” are in fact worshipping demons, and they often suffer hellish oppression as a result.

The Catholic Church urges us to seek the higher gifts (1 Cor. 12:31), faith, hope, and charity, and to leave extraordinary gifts to God’s providence. If ever we encounter phenomena of a mystical nature, we must test the spirits (1 Jn 4:1) under the Church’s guidance. Does it glorify Jesus Christ? Does it accord with Scripture and sacred Tradition? Does it promote virtue or feed curiosity and ego? The answers will quickly unveil the source.

Let Bartolo Longo’s story stand as a beacon: He tasted the darkest occult powers and found only despair, but when he turned to Our Lady and her Rosary, he found redemption and true spiritual authority over the darkness. In the end, the charisms of the saints point to the triumph of Christ, whereas the siddhis of the Tibetan masters (and all occultists) are a devilish dead-end. One path leads to eternal life; the other, if not abandoned, leads to spiritual death.

Christ or the occult? Each of us must choose. The stakes are nothing less than salvation. May all be moved to embrace the light of Christ, renouncing Satan and all his empty show. Let us therefore strive to become saints, not sorcerers, for in the end, every knee will bow to the true God, and all false gods and their lying wonders will be cast down.

Sources: The Catholic Church’s teaching on charisms and occult practices (Catechism of the Catholic Church 799-801, 2115-2117); Lives of Blessed Bartolo Longo; Testimony of ex-Tibetan Buddhist; Accounts of Padre Pio’s gifts; Tibetan siddhi claims (16th Karmapa, Milarepa); Msgr. Stephen Rossetti on occult “gifts” vs. divine charisms.

The Darker Side of Tormas: Ritual Implements of Subjugation and Harm in Tibetan Tantric Practice


Tormas, those colorful, often conical sculptures made of barley flour, butter, and symbolic color, are widely recognized in Tibetan Buddhism as ritual offerings to deities. They are often seen as objects of devotion, used to accumulate merit and cultivate compassion. But there is another seldom discussed dimension of torma practice: their use in rituals of subjugation. These are aimed at destroying enemies, silencing dissenters, and even killing.

This article isn’t written for shock value or out of cultural disrespect. It comes from a deep need for transparency. I practiced within Tibetan Buddhism for decades, and what I discovered about the weaponization of these ritual objects came not from hearsay or internet rumors, but from firsthand experience, insider teachings, and years of quiet observation that finally crystallized into understanding.

What Are Tormas?

Tormas are empowered physical representations of deities as well as their palaces and mandalas. They also serve as offerings to the deities. Some types of tormas are used for offerings to spirits, and as weapons against obstructive spirits or humans. Other types of tormas known as “effigies” serve as targets. They are not merely symbolic. In Vajrayana practice, the effigies serve as “substitute bodies” for the consciousness of beings, meaning that a torma can become the ritual stand-in for an actual person. When a torma is offered, burned, stabbed, buried, or fed to spirits, it is not just a prop. It is, ritually speaking, a direct vessel for action.

In general, use of tormas can be for peaceful or wrathful purposes.

Categories of Harmful Tormas

While Western practitioners are often taught the “peaceful” or “blissful” uses of tormas (such as offering to bodhisattvas or for pacifying illnesses), most Tibetan tantric lineages include  the four activities of pacifying, enriching, magnetizing, and subjugating. These last two, magnetizing and subjugating, can lead to dangerous territory.

Here are some of the more occult, wrathful uses of tormas:

1. Subjugation of Enemies

Tormas are used to summon wrathful deities, who are then directed to “crush” or “bind” an enemy’s consciousness. This includes ritual domination of the enemy’s will, health, and spiritual power.

2. “Black Torma” Killings

Some lineages include advanced practices where a torma is empowered as the life force of a person. The torma is ritually destroyed: stabbed, burned, or fed to spirits. The goal is to destroy the target’s body, mind, or soul. In some cases, the practitioner prays explicitly for the target’s death.

3. “Torma of Speech Destruction”

These are used to silence critics or opposing religious figures. The practitioner invokes wrathful deities to sever the “enemy’s” speech, discredit them, or even cause them to go mad.

4. Sending Spirits via Tormas

Tormas can serve as carriers or offerings to nefarious spirits, binding the target’s consciousness to entities tasked with tormenting them. This can result in psychic invasion, night terrors, loss of mental clarity, or obsession.

Why This Needs to Be Talked About

These rituals are rarely, if ever, disclosed to outsiders. In fact, many lamas downplay them entirely until a student is “ripe” for higher teachings. But many practitioners have felt the effects of these rituals without knowing what they are. Unexplained breakdowns, spiritual confusion, sudden illness, and relational collapse often follow a break with the guru or a breach of samaya. We are told it is just our karma, but sometimes, it’s a ritual backlash.

If this sounds unbelievable, I understand. It sounded unbelievable to me, too, until I experienced it firsthand.

These practices are not just theoretical. They are happening now, in retreat centers and monasteries in India, Nepal and the West, in ritual rooms, behind closed doors. And their effects are very real.

Who Is Most at Risk?

  • Former students who break samaya or speak out
  • Critics of the guru or institution
  • Those perceived as spiritual “competitors”
  • Women who reject inappropriate advances
  • Outsiders who get too close to the truth

Reclaiming Truth

This article is not an indictment of all Tibetan teachers or practitioners. There are sincere people within the tradition who reject the use of harmful rites. But silence around these rituals has enabled a culture of fear, manipulation, and unchecked spiritual abuse.

It’s time to talk about it. The torma is not always what it seems. What looks like a simple offering on the altar may, in some cases, be a vessel of vengeance. We must not look away. If we really care deeply about the benefit of “all sentient beings” we must expose the truth about the dark side of tormas and their harmful uses in tantric Tibetan Buddhism.


Tantric Āveśa and Demonic Possession: A Comparative Exploration


Āveśa (Sanskrit) refers to a state of spiritual possession or divine inhabitation in which a deity or sacred power “enters” and dwells within a person. The word literally means “an entering” or “fusion,” describing the incorporation of divine power into the human body. Such forms of sacred possession have long been central to Indian Tantric practice, invoked for both worldly benefits (bhoga) and spiritual liberation (mokṣa). This is often contrasted with demonic possession in Christian theology, typically characterized as an involuntary affliction by an evil spirit.

Cross-cultural studies note that spirit possession can be either voluntary or involuntary, and it is interpreted differently depending on the tradition. Western occult traditions, such as Luciferianism, may view possession by a demon as desirable, even leading to a so-called “perfect possession.” In Christianity, however, even voluntary possession by a demonic force is considered evil. The question then arises: who or what possesses the practitioner in Eastern contexts?

Towards the end of my 35 years in Tantric Buddhism, I came to believe that the force presenting itself as a deity was, in fact, demonic. In what follows, I will examine the phenomenon of āveśa in two major esoteric traditions, Hindu Tantra (especially Shaiva lineages such as Kashmir Shaivism), and Tibetan Vajrayāna Buddhism. I will contrast these forms of divinely sanctioned possession with demonic possession in Christian and occult frameworks, drawing from historical sources, academic analysis, and personal experience.


Āveśa in Hindu Tantric Traditions

Scriptural Origins and Tantric Development

The Sanskrit root ā-viś (to enter) appears in early Indian texts, foreshadowing the later Tantric elaboration of āveśa.1 From the 5th to 11th centuries, Tantric scriptures across Śāiva, Śākta, and Buddhist milieus incorporated āveśa into ritual practice. Scholar Vikas Malhotra describes āveśa as the “entrance or fusion of oneself with the deity,” central to both magical and liberatory goals.2

These practices utilized mantras, mudrās, and nyāsa (installing mantras on the body) to induce the deity’s presence. Often this process was linked to śaktipāta, or the descent of divine energy. Over time, āveśa came to refer not just to deity possession, but a range of spiritual states culminating in union with Śiva.3 In contrast to exorcism (removing evil spirits), this adorcistic form of possession aimed to invite a divine presence.

Kashmir Shaivism and Samāveśa

In the Trika system of Kashmir Shaivism, the term samāveśa refers to full ontological immersion in Śiva-consciousness. Abhinavagupta, a 10th-century Hindu philosopher and Tantric adept, defined it as a merger of individual and divine being, sometimes accompanied by shaking, trance, or devotional ecstasy.4 Rituals such as nyāsa or advanced mudrā usage were seen as ways to divinize the body. Kṣemarāja, a key Trika commentator, emphasized that the body itself becomes a vessel for cosmic forces, eroding the sense of ego.5

This idea extended to daily ritual. The practitioner installs divine presences into various body parts—e.g., “May Brahmā be in my genitals, ViṣŇu in my feet, Śiva in my heart”—until the self is transformed.6 Āveśa was also connected to śaktipāta dīkṣā (initiation by grace), which Abhinavagupta saw as the guru’s transmission of divine force into the student.

Historical sources and hagiographies portray this not as pathology but sacred awakening. In the Bhakti tradition, saints like Caitanya and Rāmakṛṣṇa exhibited signs interpreted as divine possession, a loss of ordinary consciousness during worship or dancing in states of trance. In goddess worship, the ecstatic state of bhāva can evolve into full possession by a fierce Devī or goddess.

Induced Trance in Ritual Practice

Possession is not accidental; it is often deliberately induced. Contemporary folk-Tantric rites like Theyyam in Kerala reenact this vividly. The performer undergoes intense ritual preparation, dons a sacred headdress, and becomes a vessel for the deity. His demeanor, voice, and movements change dramatically, and devotees approach him as a god.7 These techniques including fasting, music, sacred garb, and mantra, parallel ancient Tantric rituals meant to induce āveśa.

Importantly, this experience is consensual. A priest may invite a deity for oracular guidance or blessing. The Tantric yogi similarly invites identification with Śiva. As Frederick Smith notes, such possession is the most valued spiritual experience in many Indian settings.8 Advanced yogis even practiced para-kāya praveśa, the entry of one’s consciousness into another’s body, a form of high-level āveśa.9


Āveśa (Possession) in Tibetan Vajrayāna Buddhism

Deity Yoga and Guru Inhabitation

Though the term “possession” is less used, Vajrayāna emphasizes divine inhabitation. In Deity Yoga, one visualizes oneself as a yidam (meditational deity) and invites the deity’s wisdom aspect (jñānasattva) to merge with the visualization (samayasattva). Through mantra and meditation, the practitioner dissolves ego and identifies as the deity.

While framed as an enlightened act, in practice there is no safeguard against malevolent forces. Many Tibetan rituals derive from the Yoginītantras, esoteric texts filled with wrathful, dangerous dākinīs. These entities are unpredictable and must be carefully propitiated. Practitioners hope to merge with them for wisdom and power, but failure often results in spiritual collapse or madness. One either becomes “enlightened” or is destroyed.

My personal experience, including participating in two three-year retreats, led me to conclude these deities are not divine but demonic. After prolonged practice, I experienced terrifying possession states, torturous sensations, and an uncontrollable kundalini awakening. While there were moments of bliss and magical phenomena, the final result was spiritual devastation.

Guru Yoga and Transmission

Guru Yoga, especially in the Nyingma and Kagyu lineages, mirrors āveśa. The practitioner visualizes the guru dissolving into them, merging body, speech, and mind. This is intended to produce an inseparable union. Some historical accounts even describe instant enlightenment via physical gestures or verbal commands from a master, a form of mind-to-mind transmission akin to possession.

Some Vajrayāna practices involve obvious demon possession. The Nechung Oracle, for example, enters trance during elaborate rituals, allowing the deity Pehar to possess his body. Frightening physical changes, voice alteration, and strength are observed. The practice is structured around phowa, a method of ejecting consciousness to allow divine entry.10


Possession as Initiation and Transformation

Both traditions treat āveśa as transformative. In Hindu Tantra, samāveśa may mark initiation or realization. In Vajrayāna, empowerment rituals symbolically install the lineage mindstream into the disciple. When successful, the practitioner believes they have merged with divine consciousness.

The experiences are often euphoric and expansive. Yet, as I learned, they can also become nightmarish. The forces one invokes may not be what they seem. While traditions insist the entities are enlightened or benevolent, there is no proof. Many undergo trauma, dissociation, and spiritual breakdown.


Christian Views of Possession: A Stark Contrast

In Christian theology, possession is demonic by nature. The demon enters uninvited or through occult involvement, and exorcism is the remedy. Symptoms include revulsion to the sacred, altered voices, and loss of control. Unlike tantric āveśa, the demon is not a divine aspect but an evil other. (I should note that the kundalini energy always felt “other” to me, but I was encouraged to see it as a positive experience.)

Catholic doctrine states that even voluntary occult involvement is condemned, seen as opening a door to bondage; the soul remains untouched, but the body and mind may be dominated. Consent may be partial or misguided, but once entered, the demon seeks destruction.

Only the Holy Spirit is seen as a positive presence, and even then, Christian traditions speak of inspiration rather than possession. Some Pentecostal expressions resemble Eastern possession states, but many Christians believe these, too, are counterfeit Holy Spirit experiences linked to kundalini phenomena.

Scripture offers stern warnings:

All the gods of the nations are demons.” — Psalm 96:5 (Septuagint) “They sacrificed to demons, not to God.” — Deuteronomy 32:17

In conclusion: āveśa is framed as a sacred merging in Tantra, but my experience revealed it as demonic deception. Beneath the ritual beauty lies spiritual subjugation. As an exorcist once warned me: Be careful who or what you invite to abide within.


Footnotes

  1. “A Brief Study of Possession in Hinduism Part II: The Spiritual Context,” Indic Today
  2. Vikas Malhotra, ĀveŚan and Deity Possession in the Tantric Traditions of South Asia
  3. Ibid. 
  4. “The Fulcrum of Experience in Indian Yoga and Possession Trance.” 
  5. Ibid. 
  6. Indic Today, op. cit. 
  7. “Theyyam,” Wikipedia
  8. Frederick M. Smith, The Self-Possessed: Deity and Spirit Possession in South Asian Literature and Civilization
  9. Yogasūtra III.38. 
  10. “Nechung Oracle,” Wikipedia

Jesus Let Me Walk Away; the Gurus Did Not


When I was fifteen, I walked away from the Catholic Church.

There was no drama, no spiritual backlash, no eerie sense of guilt or dread. I simply left. I had questions, and I didn’t know the answers. Like so many teenagers raised in religion, I drifted toward freedom, or what I thought was freedom. But I never stopped believing in Jesus Christ. I always knew He was real.

Still, for eight years, I lived outside the Church. No demons haunted me. No spiritual “agents” came after me. No dark force tried to pull me back or punish me. I was free to explore.

Then, at twenty-three, I was introduced to Tibetan Buddhism by a friend. Spiritual curiosity quickly became commitment. The teachings were deep, the rituals profound, and the promises huge. My belief in Jesus wasn’t challenged outright; instead, the gurus cleverly and swiftly recast Him as a “bodhisattva,” one of many enlightened beings in a cosmic buffet of spiritual options. I was told He was admirable, but not unique. Just another wise, and probably enlightened teacher.

I didn’t realize then how that subtle shift had planted the seeds of spiritual confusion. Over time, the practices became more demanding and more secretive. Eventually questions weren’t welcomed. When I began to notice darker occult elements woven into the heart of the practice, I had troubling doubts. The tantric path spoke of vajra hell, an eternal punishment for those who questioned or broke samaya (spiritual vows to the guru). And not just for betrayal or disobedience, but even for internal doubts.

And when I had them, everything changed.

I was tossed out. Not just socially or emotionally, but spiritually. I was attacked, not just by my former gurus, but by unseen forces. It was violent and supernatural. The very same tradition that had claimed to offer peace and enlightenment unleashed something very dark the moment I started to turn away from the guru.

This wasn’t like walking away from the Catholic Church. It was completely different. I experienced a spiritual assault of such magnitude that no one could believe me. And it begged the question: What kind of spiritual path tortures you for eternity for having doubts?

A demonic path does.The historical Buddha taught to question everything, but tantra did not allow it.

Tibetan Buddhism may parade as a tradition of compassion and peace, but my experience showed otherwise. If it were truly of the Light, it wouldn’t need to threaten vajra hell or unleash invisible tormentors on those who simply ask blunt and honest questions. It wouldn’t need to cloak the guru in infallibility while turning a blind eye to his abuse. And it certainly wouldn’t need to demonically retaliate against a soul simply for having doubts and trauma. The difference between the two paths couldn’t be clearer. When I left the Church, there was silence. When I left Tibetan Buddhism, there was war.


When Demons Leave the Way They Came: Breath, Tantra, and the Kalachakra Deception


Lately, I’ve been praying for God to continue revealing the truth about what I was involved in during my years of deep immersion in Tibetan Tantra. I’ve asked Him to uncover every layer of deception and to expose every way in which these practices are demonic. And He is answering.

This past week, something profound happened: I experienced mass deliverance through my breath. As I exhaled, demons left me. Over and over again. It was undeniable. And then it hit me: of course they left on the breath. They came in on the breath.

This is not metaphorical. This is how tantra works. The breath is a key mechanism through which demonic entities enter one’s being. Yogic and tantric practices revolve around breath control: deep manipulation and intentional retention of the breath to open oneself to possession by what are euphemistically called “deities” but are, according to Christianity, demons.

In my three-year retreat, the main entities I invoked and merged with were Vajrayogini, the Red Dakini, and her consort. These were not simple meditations or visualizations. These were acts of surrender and identity dissolution. In essence, the goal was full-blown possession, even though it wasn’t couched in those terms and I didn’t realize that is what was happening.

Vajrayogini doesn’t come alone. Her retinue includes approximately 120 assistants, each with its own functions and qualities. That number is staggering, and that’s just one system of practice. In addition to her, I practiced the sadhana of a wrathful black deity with a massive host of demonic attendants. I should stress that these are not benign energies. They are demanding, and potentially violent and spiritually lethal.

But even beyond retreat, I continued to receive more initiations, or so-called empowerments. One that stands out is the Kalachakra initiation in 2011 from the Dalai Lama in Washington, D.C. It was a 10-day, all-day affair. I was zealous, determined to catch every detail of the ritual. I arrived early each morning to watch the Dalai Lama prepare himself by “self-generating” as the deity Kalachakra. It was amazing to watch; he was ritually becoming the deity.

Kalachakra, which means “Wheel of Time,” is a tantric deity surrounded by a staggering retinue of 722 deities. But these aren’t heavenly hosts. According to Christianity, they are demons. Every one of them. The entire system is a carefully constructed spiritual snare designed to bind souls to counterfeit light.

Thousands, maybe millions, have received these same initiations. The Dalai Lama has made it his mission to offer the Kalachakra globally. People believe they are receiving a blessing. But in reality, they are being spiritually colonized. Demonic systems are being seeded into the nations. These rituals are not neutral cultural events. They are portals for dark power.

If you want a glimpse into what may really happening during these ceremonies, I encourage you to read this article that lays it out plainly:
Dalai Lama and the Kalachakra

As for me, I’m continuing to pray and seek God’s help in cleansing every layer of my being. What I’m realizing is horrifying but I am confident that God is showing me the truth and setting me free.