Influecer Mysticism

I like it when new age mystics find their way into my instagram feed. The algorithm knows exactly how to piss me off and intrigue me simultaneously; it’s almost endearing. I know, I know—big tech outrage farmers sow algorithms to reap our undivided attention for endless ad revenue, but there’s a particular problem I have with spiritual teachers, or experts in sacred geometry, crystals, twin flames, or any new age spiritualism trying to convince me that all I have to do in order to get the life of my dreams is buy their courses, believe, and through a myriad of hyper-dimensional routes: god, light work, energy work, Arcturians, Atlanteans, Plebeians, Hyperboreans, Gaia—then I can manifest it. Whatever the grift, to me, it’s Ronda Byrnes on steroids; it’s Evangelical fanaticism in vogue; it’s Joseph Smith trying cocaine for the first time. And the lion’s share, in my humble and based human opinion, is dumpster-fire, burning man bullshit.

I do say this to be a little rude. I have no problem with people believing whatever they want to believe, and practicing their beliefs in the privacy of a dedicated space. Consciousness is too expansive and inexplicable to put a lid on, or set limitations around, or ascribe enclosing definitions as to what it is, what we are, why we’re here, or what the fuck we’re supposed to do about it. But I find it sinister to obfuscate somebody else’s spiritual beliefs or identity by claiming to have sacred knowledge that’s accessible solely through your monetized course.

People fall for this stuff all of the time, and it’s partially easy to understand why. A lot of us are lonely, scared, confused, and desperately want “the answer.” I think most of us, deep down, are plagued with a vague sense of basic confusion about our place in the world. Like children, we are deeply curious, but are conditioned throughout the course of our lives to perform as if we’ve got it all figured out. Adults are children with bank accounts and a drivers licenses, responsibilities and anxieties, and an expansive awareness of the world that feels, at times, very heavy. Some of us will do anything to lighten that load. And some of us are willing to exploit others for their own financial gain.

Cults have existed as long as human society. Probably before that. Whether it’s Greek initiates making the journey from Athens to Eleusis to take part in the Eleusinian Mysteries, or the most recent discoveries of an early neolithic “skull cult” at Göbekli Tepe, humans have organized around communal rituals for time immemorial. If you zoom out far enough, there is little difference between the behaviors of bonafide religious movements and your docu-series cults, the only real difference, usually, being their size and sustained following over time. The larger, more well connected cults stick it out for long enough and eventually become integrated, explicitly or implicitly, within a governing body, and become part of the theological and geopolitical canon. Even the big umbrellas: Abrahamic, Dharmic, other Eastern Traditions like Taoism, all contain their own multiplicities.

Basically, humans have been organizing, proselytizing, and mythologizing for a long, long time. Some stories catch on better than others, sometimes new ones pop up, while others are fade into obscurity, gone but not forgotten. Just ask the Gnostics—some of them are still around—and they’ll tell you all about a religion older than the birth of christ. So, time does not necessarily equate to longevity or success of a tradition, especially in modern late-stage capitalism where success is measured in dollars earned. If that were the case then Mormonism should be one of the oldest traditions, but it’s not even 200 years old. It is younger than the United States, and younger than most world religions by a magnitude of millennia. Knowing this, or at least having the ability and wherewithal to educate ourselves on how to spot the difference between longstanding theologic cosmologies and new-age spiritualism, would, at least, arm people against putting their faith in the hands of a manipulative guru.

Despite access to information being unparalleled in human history, and a global communication exoskeleton speeding up said access every minute, information literacy is lagging behind. To further add to the obfuscation of information by coopting people’s beliefs systems, ones which are tied to their deepest level of spiritual identity, for money, is a disgusting act of spiritual vandalism, and in more extreme cases like cults and other high control groups, spiritual violence. I find these people abhorrent, vile, and truly demonic. Yet, in some vain, I do feel for them as well. I think most people are just trying to survive any way they know how, and that these gurus selling their courses, by and large, do mean to help people. They also need to eat. I think a lot of them are buying what they’re selling, and want others to feel good about themselves and their place in the world. But I would be lying if I said I don’t abscond the practice, as I think it is utterly anathema to any modicum of truth in any spiritual tradition or practice. I don’t think kindness should be bought. I think my real gripe is with the systematic global network of capital that has alienated us from each other, ourselves, our labor, and the things we consume.

When I say, “I like it when new age mystics find their way into my instagram feed,” I mean that I find the spectacle of mysticism changing with the context of the times fascinating. Watching this need for spiritual satiation in human beings, that is so consistent throughout history, warp into an instagram grift, is one of the more bizarre aspects about living in 2025. And it’s not that surprising, considering the ways in which information is transmitted and transmuted across the globe has evolved thus. But I can’t help but wonder what holes this will poke in the fabric of modern spiritual traditions. What of our garden of Eden? What will rot, and what will rise out of the mud to grow in its place?