Not All Gurus Are Trustworthy: Spiritual Growth vs. Spiritual Gaslighting
Forgiveness Isn’t the Same as Trust
Charisma is not consciousness. When spiritual leaders cause harm and rebrand instead of repent, it’s not evolution. It’s evasion. In this post, we’ll unpack the difference between authentic transformation and seductive ego-trips, and why forgiveness doesn't mean restored access. Drawing from ancient wisdom, modern psychology, and the science of consciousness evolution, we explore what real redemption looks like. Forgiveness may open the heart, but trust must be earned through action.
*A note on sources: references and further reading are provided at the end of this piece for those who wish to explore more deeply.
There’s a quiet reckoning happening in the spiritual and psychedelic worlds: a ripple of disgust underneath the glow of plant medicine ceremonies, online masterclasses, and evolving relationship paradigms. We are awakening not only to higher states of consciousness, but also to the painful realization that some of our most charismatic teachers and influencers may not be as integrated as they seem.
Recently, a conversation between Aubrey Marcus, his wife, and a third woman—presented as an exploration of “radical monogamy”—stirred something deep in me.
Not because polyamory or relational experimentation are inherently problematic. Love, when rooted in consent and clarity, can take many forms.
But there was a tone, a subtle gaslighting woven into the dialogue, that raised red flags. These women appeared to be softening themselves into acceptance, not from a place of true resonance, but from submission to a larger-than-life narrative: one centered around a man who, intentionally or not, has crafted a messiah-like persona.
As a psychedelic facilitator and physician who’s supported seekers for over two decades, I’ve seen firsthand the beauty and danger that come with altered states of consciousness, and the responsibility that must accompany any claim to sacred leadership.
But even that wasn’t the real trigger.
The unease turned to alarm when I discovered that Aubrey’s so-called spiritual guru advisor is a man named Marc Gafni. A figure whose documented past includes allegations of sexual abuse of minors, expulsion from the rabbinate, and a pattern of reinvention rather than repentance.
Instead of stepping back from spiritual leadership to address the harm he's caused, he rebranded, resurfaced, and resumed teaching.
Now under the umbrella of erotic mysticism and evolutionary spirituality.
This isn’t just a moral failing. It’s a spiritual crisis.
And it raises a question that’s lived inside me for years, one I believe many in our community are quietly asking too:
Can we forgive everyone? Can anyone be rehabilitated? If so, how do we discern the difference between authentic redemption and seductive performance?
As someone who’s held space for deep healing, who’s worked with psychedelics, trauma, spirituality, and transformation for decades, I’ve witnessed firsthand the miracle of change. I’ve seen people awaken after lifetimes of harm. I’ve walked with them through grief, remorse, and the long road of restitution. I believe in second chances.
But I also believe in boundaries. And discernment. And I believe that forgiveness is not the same as restoration of power.
In this post, I’ll explore the terrain of forgiveness, redemption, and trust through three lenses:
The timeless teachings of the Bhagavad Gita, where Krishna offers both compassion and clarity on the path of transformation.
The wisdom of Milarepa, the Tibetan yogi who began as a mass murderer and became a beacon of enlightenment through deep atonement.
The framework of consciousness evolution described in Tom Campbell’s My Big TOE trilogy — where love and low entropy are not abstract ideals, but measurable signs of growth.
Together, these threads will help us answer: What are the markers of real transformation? How do we know when someone has truly changed? And when, if ever, is it appropriate to trust again?
This isn’t about canceling anyone. It’s about reclaiming sacred integrity, in a world where spiritual language is increasingly used to mask shadow rather than transmute it.
Let’s begin.
Forgiveness ≠ Trust
Spirituality, at its most luminous, invites us into love, compassion, and forgiveness. But there’s a common misunderstanding, especially in contemporary spiritual circles, that forgiveness must automatically include reconciliation, restored access, or even deference. That to be “evolved” means to welcome back anyone and everyone, no matter what harm has occurred or whether they’ve made meaningful reparations.
This is not just naïve. It can be dangerous.
Forgiveness, as the Gita and other ancient texts show us, is a virtue. But so is discernment. And these days, many of us are waking up to the difference between the two.
The disillusionment runs deep. When a teacher we once trusted is revealed to have committed harm — especially abuse of power or sexuality — it cracks something open in us.
These aren’t just personal disappointments. They strike at the heart of our spiritual identity. They unseat the very foundation we were trying to build our lives on.
It’s not just that someone lied, manipulated, or harmed. It’s that they did it while wearing the robes of wisdom. While speaking the language of divinity. While holding our hearts in their hands.
And when those same figures return, unrepentant, untransformed, rebranded, and applauded by new followers who don’t know the history (or worse, don’t care), the pain deepens.
It feels like a gaslighting of the entire spiritual community.
In the Bhagavad Gita, Krishna does not tell Arjuna to accept all beings blindly.
He reminds him that action must come from dharma, from alignment with the highest truth.
Compassion is not about being passive. It's about being rooted in wisdom while holding the heart open.
“He who sees inaction in action, and action in inaction, is wise among men.”
— Bhagavad Gita 4.18
This paradox teaches us that stillness isn’t always spiritual, and action isn’t always violent. Sometimes, refusing to enable someone’s spiritual bypassing is the most loving choice. Sometimes, not giving your trust — even when you’ve forgiven — is the greatest form of integrity.
In MBT terms, from physicist and consciousness researcher Thomas Campbell, forgiveness is an act that lowers entropy. It brings coherence, clarity, and love.
But restoring trust requires a pattern of low-entropy behavior over time — not just poetic language or spiritual branding.
In this model, consciousness evolves by reducing self-centeredness, increasing care for others, and aligning actions with truth. That’s how we grow in love and integrity.
A person who has evolved spiritually will show increasing alignment between what they teach and how they live. They become more transparent, more attuned to others, more willing to acknowledge harm and take accountability. Not less.
So when a spiritual leader avoids accountability, denies wrongdoing, and doubles down on charisma instead of humility — that is not evolution. That’s spiritual inflation.
And we need to stop mistaking it for growth.
Not all gurus are trustworthy. And if the phrase makes you uncomfortable, that’s okay. It’s meant to shake loose the idea that spiritual knowledge alone equals moral or energetic authority.
This leads us to the deeper question:
“After the Fall: Can Spiritual Teachers Return from Scandal?”
After the Fall: Can Spiritual Teachers Return from Scandal?
It’s an important question. Maybe the question in an era when spiritual communities are reckoning with abuses of power, from the yoga mat to the medicine circle.
We want to believe in redemption. We want to believe that people can change. And they can.
Milarepa, the great Tibetan yogi, killed dozens of people in his early life through dark magic. After realizing the depth of his wrongdoing, he surrendered himself to the Dharma, took refuge in his teacher Marpa, and endured excruciating trials as part of his purification. Over years of isolated practice and intense inner work, he awakened fully. Today, his songs are sung as sacred scripture.
But Milarepa didn’t just say “sorry” once and move on. He didn’t build a brand on transgression. He didn’t keep manipulating energy around eros or power to justify past behavior. He renounced it all. He walked away from harm and toward humility.
True rehabilitation is possible. But it is rare. And it is not a private matter — not when harm was public. When a teacher’s actions have violated others’ trust, it is not enough for them to say they’ve changed. Their transformation must be visible, accountable, and non-coercive.
We can look to several signs of sincere rehabilitation — and in their absence, be willing to say: “Not yet. Maybe not ever.”
Signs of authentic transformation after spiritual harm:
Acknowledgment of Harm
Not vague “mistakes were made” language. Clear, heartfelt acknowledgment of what happened, whom it affected, and how it caused pain.Accountability
Taking responsibility without defensiveness, distortion, or minimization. Not blaming the victim, the culture, the medicine, or karma.Amends and Reparations
Making meaningful effort to repair damage — emotionally, financially, or otherwise. This might include stepping down, redistributing power, or offering direct amends.Public Transparency
No secrets. No NDA silences. No hidden affiliations. Trust can only be rebuilt through radical transparency.Ongoing Healing and Learning
Demonstrating a commitment to their own healing — through therapy, supervision, community feedback — and welcoming critique rather than deflecting it.Behavioral Change Over Time
Years — not months — of consistent, non-coercive, non-harming conduct. Not just staying scandal-free but embodying new patterns of respect, humility, and service.Shift in Teaching Style
Less charisma, more clarity. Less spectacle, more substance. The energy of a truly transformed teacher softens, humbles, listens.
And if none of these are present? Then we must ask: why are we so quick to let someone back on the pedestal?
In the case of figures like Marc Gafni, what we often see instead is a pattern of denial, reinvention, and rebranding. No public repentance. No willingness to do the work. Just a slick narrative of “evolutionary spirituality” and new proxies to carry the message — often women convinced that their surrender to this “greater wisdom” is their path to empowerment.
This isn’t growth. It’s grooming.
The Bhagavad Gita offers us clarity here. Krishna warns Arjuna that false renunciation — the kind that avoids responsibility or pretends to be above karma — is dangerous. Real detachment isn’t about spiritual posturing. It’s about sincere engagement with truth.
“He who outwardly restrains his organs of sense and action but mentally dwells upon sense objects, certainly deludes himself and is called a pretender.”
— Bhagavad Gita 3.6
Real change is deep. It is humble. It does not beg for the stage.
We can forgive. But we don’t have to follow.
Gaslight, Gatekeep, Guru: How Narcissism Masquerades as Enlightenment
We live in a time where charisma can easily be confused with wisdom — and where the aesthetic of transformation is often substituted for its substance.
The polished podcast.
The incense-laced ceremonies.
The radiant, self-actualized language.
The “download” shared mid-trip from a molly-laced mushroom journey.
For those not well-versed in discernment, it can be incredibly hard to know whether you’re witnessing true spiritual authority or a well-marketed ego trip.
Enter the archetype of the modern “New Earth” teacher: seductive, visionary, unshakably confident. They tell you that your discomfort is a sign of your edge. That jealousy is your shadow to integrate. That their unconventional relationships are the evolution of love. That their critics are caught in “lower vibration.”
But when a spiritual leader insists that those who question them are merely unevolved, they are no longer leading — they are manipulating.
This is spiritual gaslighting.
Say it clearly but calmly: these are not signs of transformation. They are signs of grooming the public.
The difference between growth and gaslighting often comes down to:
Orientation to Power
Does the teacher share power? Or centralize it under the guise of “divine purpose” or “downloaded insight”?Consent and Clarity
Are students given full autonomy, space, and informed consent? Or are they slowly coerced into compliance through emotional and spiritual pressure?Response to Feedback
Does critique invite dialogue and reflection? Or is it framed as an attack on the mission, the vision, or the light?Eros as Service or Exploitation
Is the erotic seen as sacred and approached with integrity? Or is it used to confuse boundaries and gratify the teacher?
When leaders claim to channel truth but sidestep the hard work of accountability, the entire lineage is poisoned.
In the My Big TOE trilogy, Thomas Campbell explores how consciousness evolves by reducing entropy — moving toward coherence, love, and integrity. A being on the evolutionary path becomes less manipulative, less self-centered, less reactive. The game is not about inflating identity. It’s about becoming trustworthy in the eyes of the larger consciousness system.
High entropy systems — individuals who distort truth, prey on others’ confusion, or elevate themselves through deception — will eventually collapse. Not as punishment, but as consequence.
Growth brings humility. Gaslighting demands submission.
And the conditions that enable gaslighting don’t appear in a vacuum. We must name the role modern platforms play in propping up “controversial geniuses” without critical context. In chasing virality and views, these platforms often confuse audacity for authenticity, and provocation for progress. It’s not evolution, it’s entertainment cloaked in spiritual jargon.
So when someone like Marc Gafni — who has been credibly accused of sexual abuse, who has changed his name, who continues to teach eros and “cosmic intimacy” without ever publicly repenting — presents himself as a vessel for divine wisdom, it is not only dissonant, it is dangerous.
And when figures like Aubrey Marcus prop him up as their spiritual guide, cloaked in ceremony and cognitive psychedelia, it sends a signal that redemption doesn’t require real change. Only rebranding.
This is not a judgment of their souls — only an observation of behavior. As Krishna reminds us in the Gita, even the wisest can be deluded when they cling to desire and false ego.
“That knowledge by which one sees one kind of living entity in all bodies — that knowledge is in the mode of goodness.”
— Bhagavad Gita 18.20
True wisdom sees clearly. It does not excuse the inexcusable. It does not bypass the pain of those harmed. It walks in compassion and clarity.
We’ve seen this pattern before—and it’s playing out in more visible ways today. A charismatic spiritual figure accumulates influence, often through sincere-sounding teachings that blend timeless wisdom with modern appeal. Then the cracks appear: whispers of misconduct, denials, defensive rebranding.
These figures often continue to operate unchallenged, aided by platforms that favor performance over principle. And while their stories differ in detail, the pattern remains strikingly consistent.
Take Russell Brand, once a comedic provocateur, now reborn as a spiritual commentator and recent Christian convert. He speaks fluently in the language of transformation—yet does so while dodging clear accountability for a wave of disturbing sexual assault allegations.
In his case, the sudden spiritual turn appears less like a reckoning and more like a narrative pivot, one that keeps him culturally relevant while muting the gravity of the charges.
And then there’s Yogi Bhajan, the man who brought Kundalini Yoga to the West. For decades, his students revered him as a master—until dozens of survivors came forward with detailed reports of abuse and coercion, corroborated by an independent investigation.
His death didn’t end his influence. Instead, it complicated it, leaving many torn between the transformative effects of the practices he taught and the truth of the man behind them.
These aren’t isolated cases. They’re variations on a painful theme: the collapse of trust in those we once believed were walking ahead of us on the path.
Criteria for Rebuilding Trust After Harm
It is not cynicism to ask for proof of transformation.
It is spiritual maturity.
While forgiveness is always an available internal path; one we may choose to walk for our own peace and healing. Trust is something different. Trust must be rebuilt, carefully, slowly, and consciously.
And when a public figure, especially one in a position of spiritual authority, has caused real harm — trust isn’t owed.
It must be earned.
The Bhagavad Gita does not turn a blind eye to wrongdoing, but nor does it deny the power of redemption. Arjuna is a warrior precisely because action matters. The Gita teaches us that right action, grounded in truth and dharma, is the path to liberation. Not talk. Not image. Not charisma.
So what are the signs that someone is walking a path of real repair?
1. Acknowledgment of Harm Without Deflection
A sincere teacher does not minimize, explain away, or spiritualize their past abuses. They name them clearly. They acknowledge those who were hurt — without positioning themselves as the victim, the misunderstood mystic, or the persecuted truth-teller.
A true apology does not begin with “I’m sorry you felt…”
2. A Season of Silence and Reflection
Real transformation takes time. It is not branded. It is not monetized. It often requires withdrawal from teaching platforms, public performances, and the seeking of followers. The Gita upholds vairāgya — the practice of detachment — as necessary for inner purification. Silence is not punishment. It is the fertile ground of reflection.
When someone refuses to pause, they signal that their platform is more important than their growth.
3. Demonstrated Inner Work and External Accountability
This includes therapy, mentorship, trauma training, or engagement with credible restorative justice processes. It also includes accountability partners who are not sycophants, fans, or financially entangled.
True evolution is traceable. It leaves footprints.
4. A Shift in Behavior and Energetics
Transformation is not just about what someone says. It’s about how they live, how they listen, how they hold power, how they handle critique, and how they honor boundaries. It’s about what they no longer do.
When the core patterns remain — entitlement, secrecy, seduction masked as insight — then no matter how polished the language, the lesson hasn’t landed.
5. A Redirection of Purpose Toward Repair
This may mean working behind the scenes in service-oriented roles, funding survivor healing, educating others about abuse prevention, or devoting their platform to ethical transparency. In the Mahayana Buddhist tradition, the bodhisattva vow is about turning one’s liberation toward the awakening of all beings. That vow requires compassion, yes — but also atonement.
If someone is still positioning themselves as a visionary thought leader — especially on the topic where they caused harm — they may be skipping step
Redemption Is Real — Milarepa and the Anatomy of True Transformation
It’s important to name this: spiritual redemption is not a fantasy. It’s not naïve to believe people can change. But for that belief to be rooted in wisdom, not wishful thinking, we need real-life models.
Milarepa is one of the most revered saints in Tibetan Buddhism. But his story didn’t begin with chanting on mountaintops. After experiencing cruelty and betrayal in his early life, Milarepa turned to black magic and killed over 30 people.
Wracked with grief and despair, he went on a long and brutal journey of repentance. He endured years of painful, humiliating purification under his guru Marpa — who did not immediately take him in, or absolve him quickly. It took time. Sweat. Humility.
And yet, through unwavering dedication to his practice and surrender to truth, Milarepa became one of the most enlightened beings in Buddhist history. His Songs of Realization are still sung today — not because he was perfect, but because he changed so completely.
He didn’t use his past as a badge of mystique.
He didn’t deny it, reframe it, or monetize it.
He used it as fuel for awakening.
That’s what transformation looks like.
After the Fall: Can Spiritual Teachers Return from Scandal?
When a spiritual teacher falls — through misconduct, abuse, or manipulation — a crack forms not only in their public image, but in the hearts of their students. It’s more than just disappointment. For many, it feels like a betrayal of the sacred, a collapse of the scaffolding that held their own awakening.
And while forgiveness may be possible, trust, the kind needed for spiritual guidance, must be earned back, not assumed.
Too often in modern spirituality, we confuse charisma with wisdom, and shock value with truth.
When a teacher is exposed for harm, the conversation quickly shifts toward “evolution” — as if we’re meant to applaud their journey through scandal rather than question its validity.
The pressure to “see the bigger picture” is laid heavily upon those who were hurt.
But let’s be clear: compassion is not the same as blind acceptance. And spiritual language cannot be used as a smokescreen to avoid accountability. If we care about the integrity of the path — any path — then we must ask:
What does it really look like when someone returns from a fall?
It starts with stopping. A sincere spiritual practitioner who realizes they’ve caused harm does not rush to rebuild their brand. They pause. They reflect. They listen.
And if they’re serious, they make amends. Not privately. Not vaguely. But publicly and directly — naming what happened, acknowledging the impact on others, and stepping back to create space for healing. They may even step down entirely from public teaching for a season — or for good.
This kind of humility is rare. It doesn’t sell workshops. It won’t get you invited to speak on the latest consciousness podcast. But it’s the only kind of repentance that means anything.
Some teachers who have returned from scandal have done so without ever earning back the trust of their broader communities, despite remaining active. Others have tried to “reframe” their harm as a feature, not a flaw — claiming their shadows were necessary to catalyze growth in others.
This is spiritual gaslighting.
It tells victims that their trauma was somehow sacred. It tells communities to get over it in the name of evolution. And it tells the teacher themselves that transformation can be declared, not demonstrated.
But as we’ve already explored with Milarepa, transformation is not something one claims. It’s something one lives. Day after day. Quietly. Often invisibly.
Time is a teacher.
Transparency is a medicine.
Community is the mirror.
If someone is returning from a fall and we see no real signs of change — no apology, no restitution, no consistent evolution in how they hold power or navigate relationships — then it is not cynicism to withhold trust. It is wisdom.
Because if spirituality means anything, it must mean this: our actions matter. Even if we are all divine beings, even if we are all part of Brahman-consciousness — as the Bhagavad Gita affirms — we are also accountable for the dharma we live. As Krishna tells Arjuna, we cannot abandon action, but we must act with awareness, integrity, and surrender to the higher Self.
No one is beyond redemption. But no one is entitled to your trust.
What We Can Learn as Seekers: Discerning the True from the False
In a spiritual age shaped by podcasts, platforms, and personal brands, seekers today carry a new kind of burden: the responsibility of discernment.
Once upon a time, gurus sat on mountain tops, and reaching them took years of devotion. Today, spiritual teachers live-stream their insights, sell exclusive coaching programs, and in some cases, defend harmful behavior as “part of the path.”
This doesn’t mean we need to be cynical. But it does mean we need to see clearly.
The Bhagavad Gita teaches that one of the core virtues on the sattvic path—the path of clarity, balance, and purity—is viveka, or discernment. This isn’t about shaming others. It’s about being anchored in truth and learning not to confuse charisma or intellect with genuine spiritual realization.
So how do we tell the difference?
Here are several qualities that can help distinguish a truly evolved guide from one who is still operating out of ego or harm:
1. Humility Over Branding
Authentic teachers do not need to broadcast how evolved they are. They quietly serve. They point seekers inward, not back toward themselves. They do not self-anoint, and their sense of worth doesn’t rely on a curated image.
2. Truth-Telling, Even When It’s Messy
When someone has caused harm, we can look at how they respond. Do they admit what happened? Do they make amends? Do they accept consequences and stay in the fire of transformation, or do they pivot, deflect, and rebrand? Transparency is a sign of someone on a path of real integration.
3. Respect for Power and Responsibility
An awakened teacher understands the power they hold and treats it with care. This includes having boundaries, ethical safeguards, and accountability structures. If they downplay the power differential between teacher and student or use “awakening” to bypass scrutiny, that’s not spiritual evolution—it’s spiritual manipulation.
4. A Field of Love, Not Control
Presence matters. In the company of true teachers, we feel safe, seen, and free to be ourselves. There is no sense of pressure, performance, or needing to please. Their love is steady, not transactional. You can feel it, even in silence. If instead, you feel pulled into a cycle of proving, pleasing, or apologizing, that’s a sign something is off.
We can also look at the platforms that prop these teachers up. Sometimes modern spiritual media celebrates “controversial geniuses” without giving meaningful context. But a guru’s edge doesn’t excuse harm. High charisma does not equal high consciousness.
And for those who continue to present themselves as thought leaders or sacred authorities without accountability—especially after clear allegations of abuse—it’s important to say plainly: these are not signs of transformation. These are signs of grooming the public.
If their words focus more on justifying their past than healing the harm they caused, they are still seeking validation rather than truth.
As seekers, we must ask ourselves:
“Does this path help me become more whole? More honest? More free?”
If the answer is no, we can walk away. Reverence does not mean blind loyalty.
Discernment is part of devotion.
The Bhagavad Gita reminds us:
“Let each man raise himself by his own efforts... Let him not degrade himself. For the Self is the friend of the Self, and the Self is also the enemy of the Self.”
— Bhagavad Gita 6.5
⚡️The Russell Brand Dilemma — Is Conversion Redemption or Evasion?
Russell Brand’s journey from drug-addicted comic to spiritual commentator captivated millions. With a vocabulary steeped in non-duality, consciousness, and the sacred, he rebranded himself as a spiritual seeker and cultural truth-teller.
But recent serious allegations of sexual assault and manipulation shattered that image for many. Instead of addressing the harm head-on, Brand doubled down on deflection. He framed the accusations as part of a systemic witch hunt meant to silence voices of truth. And now, in a move some see as healing and others as performative, Brand has publicly converted to Christianity, appearing in videos discussing forgiveness, sin, and salvation.
While spiritual transformation is real and possible, Brand’s story echoes a familiar pattern: when called into account, shift the narrative, deepen your "spiritual" persona, and change platforms—from YouTube to Rumble, from Tantra to Christianity.
But without a clear reckoning with harm, public apology, or direct outreach to those impacted, such shifts read less as redemption and more as rebranding.
The question remains: Is this a sincere evolution or a strategic escape?
Holding Complexity: Redemption, Boundaries, and Hope
The human path is messy. No seeker is free from contradictions. But in the spiritual world—where charisma often cloaks character and power is too easily mistaken for insight—how we hold complexity becomes a test of our own growth.
We want to believe in redemption. We want to believe that people can change. And indeed, sacred texts and mystical lineages remind us again and again: transformation is always possible.
The Bhagavad Gita offers this reassurance:
“Even if one commits the most abominable action, if they are engaged in devotional service and determined to come right, they are to be considered saintly because they are properly situated in their determination.”
— Bhagavad Gita 9.30
But note what’s required: not only sincere repentance but devotional engagement, discipline, and a commitment to becoming better.
It is not enough to use spiritual language or posture as awakened. One must walk the long road of embodied transformation. One must do the real work.
This is where healthy boundaries meet holy compassion.
Redemption is Possible. But So Are Consequences.
We can hold space for a person’s future transformation while still drawing boundaries around their present behavior.
We can believe in forgiveness without bypassing accountability.
We can love the essence of someone’s soul and still say: “You do not get access to teach, to lead, to hold power until you’ve shown the signs of change.”
It’s not cancel culture—it’s spiritual integrity.
Even the saints had shadows. But they didn’t build cults around them.
We are not required to demonize everyone who falls. Nor are we required to rehabilitate them in the spotlight. Some work must be done offstage, in silence, with spiritual elders, with trauma-informed mentors, with time.
Hope Rooted in Discernment
Hope is not naïve. Hope, in the spiritual sense, is grounded in faith—not faith in someone's image, but in the soul’s capacity to evolve.
Let us remember that true evolution doesn’t require us to forget the past. It asks that we integrate it with compassion and discernment. That we stay rooted in love, without surrendering our clarity.
We do not owe loyalty to those who harm.
We owe truth to our own inner knowing.
We owe protection to those more vulnerable than ourselves.
And we owe devotion to the sacred itself—not to those who only claim to speak for it.
What It Means to Stay on the Path in an Age of Fallen Teachers
For many of us, the pain of disillusionment cuts deeper than we expect. We come to spiritual practice longing for healing, for connection, for meaning.
And sometimes, we find all of that—only to discover that the teacher or system through which it arrived is deeply flawed, even harmful.
It can feel like betrayal. Like a spiritual rupture.
And yet, if we stay with that heartbreak long enough, something else emerges: discernment as devotion. A new layer of maturity begins to unfold—one that recognizes that the Divine does not collapse just because a human vessel falters.
The Bhagavad Gita speaks again and again to the tension between form and essence — between what is seen and what is eternal.
In the battlefield of life, Arjuna is reminded to fix his gaze not on personalities, but on principles.
Not on fame or charisma, but on Dharma — right action born of truth, inner guidance, and soul-aligned duty.
We can mourn what was lost—our idealism, our innocence, our misplaced trust. And we can choose not to become cynical, but clear.
The spiritual path is not about never being hurt.
It is about what we choose after we’re hurt.
Do we shut down? Or do we learn to see more deeply?
Do we collapse into despair? Or do we rise into empowered clarity?
When teachers fall, they do not take the entire truth down with them.
When systems crack, they do not erase the essence that first called you forward.
The mystic knows: Truth is not in the mouth of the guru alone.
It lives in the quiet whisper within, in the daily acts of love, in your own hard-won discernment.
And so, if you’ve been disillusioned, let that disillusionment become holy. Let it purify your perception. Let it make you more real, more awake, more sovereign.
You are not lost.
You are simply being invited to grow up spiritually.
To walk not behind a teacher’s shadow—but beside your soul’s light.
Keep going.
This path is still sacred.
And it still belongs to you.
Reflections for the Path:
Have you ever been gaslit by a spiritual teacher or community?
How do you know when a “download” is ego vs. truth?
What does spiritual integrity mean to you — in yourself and others?
Let’s talk about it in the comments.
Charisma is not consciousness. Discernment is devotion. And the most trustworthy spiritual path is the one that makes you more real, more whole, and more awake — not more confused, more compliant, or more fragmented.
Want to explore this path with others who value both discernment and devotion?
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🌀 This month’s topic:
“Gaslight, Gatekeep, Guru: Navigating Narcissism and Integrity in Spiritual Spaces”
🗓️ Saturday, June 7
🕕 6pm Paris / 12pm New York / 9am LA
📍Live on Zoom – Replay available for all who register.
Bring your questions, your stories, and your discernment.
Let’s evolve consciously — together.
Sources & Further Context:
Overview of allegations against Marc Gafni — The Forward
Marc Gafni's rebranding and controversies — New York Times (alternate link)
The Bhagavad Gita — Full Translation (Bhaktivedanta Vedabase)