Sukyo Mahikari, Inside And Out
By Verity Lopez
I was a member of Sukyo Mahikari for nearly six years. No, you won’t have heard of it. Practically no one has.
It’s a Japanese New Religion. A lot of these groups started after World War II— Sukyo Mahikari started in 1959 and eventually reached beyond Japan. I wasn’t searching for anything when it entered my life, but sometimes a group like this finds you when you’re least expecting it.
I was introduced to Sukyo Mahikari by a colleague who was always happy, warm-hearted and thoughtful. Plus, he was cute. I’ll call him Fred. I was new to the city and was lonely. At the time I was also having a lot of stress headaches.
One day at work Fred offered to give me “Light” to help ease a headache. He said he hadn’t been sure about the purification method himself at first, but he gave it a go, and it had worked for him. Tylenol wasn’t cutting it and I trusted him, so even though it sounded weird, I said “Sure”. What did I have to lose?
I sat quietly while Fred felt areas around my temples and neck, and then held his hand up in front of these points, focusing on them intently. Half an hour later, my headache was gone.
The “Fred technique” became my headache-at-work treatment of choice from then on. Each time Fred told me a little bit more about the practice, which was called giving Okiyome or True Light. During these sessions he’d give me more information about the source of his knowledge. He told me he belonged to a group called Sukyo Mahikari, or just Mahikari for short. Sometimes he chanted a Japanese prayer before my sessions.
After a few weeks of this, Fred invited me to come to the Mahikari Center with him, and I accepted.
When we arrived there were some rituals to perform—I had to remove my shoes, then wash my hands and rinse my mouth. I signed in at their reception desk. Fred showed me how to make a donation, a few dollars in a small envelope—a little something to show gratitude for the Divine Light, Okiyome. I learned how how to say prayers, which involved kneeling, bowing and clapping at the altar. The place was serenely beautiful, with a bright atmosphere, elegant Japanese style, sunlit. The altar was the major focus and looked like a mini Shinto temple on the back wall, with a special framed scroll with Japanese calligraphy hanging inside it. The scroll—called Goshintai—was their most holy object. I thought the wooden statue of the Iznome God, set inside the main altar, was a bit ridiculous, but I followed Fred’s lead.
I gradually became more involved, receiving more Light at the Mahikari Center, meeting other lovely people, making new friends, hanging out with Fred, and attending ceremonies. I found the teachings read out at the ceremonies a bit much though, all rather fire and brimstone about the coming apocalypse and the urgent necessity to serve God and save others.
After about six months of this, they announced that they would be running a Kenshu soon (also called their Initiation Course or Spiritual Development Course). My new friends started asking me if I wanted to join and telling me it was a rare opportunity as the initiation courses weren’t run that often in our region.
I felt that I had received so much from them, so many hours of Light, and I wanted to be able to reciprocate. The thought of being able to give Light to myself rather than coming to the Center all the time was also appealing. Fred seemed to be there all the time when he wasn’t at work. I was open to attending but didn’t want to have to be there constantly, as much as I liked to spend time with Fred.
Omitama
Despite wanting to keep things casual with the group, Kenshu was the only way I could gain the ability to radiate this True Light. I had to get a holy pendant called Omitama, which channeled Okiyome from God—and the only way to be granted an Omitama was to attend this three-day course and become a member, or kamikumite (person walking hand-in-hand with God, kumite for short).
I told them I didn’t believe in God at the time, and they said that was okay. They were open to anyone regardless of religious affiliation or lack of faith and said I didn’t have to change my beliefs to be a member. I could leave any time I liked if the group didn’t suit me. It seemed like a safe bet. I certainly didn’t like everything about this group. But their basic teaching is that “The origin of the world is one; the origin of all human beings is one; and the origin of all religions is one." That sounded positive.
To join I had to memorize that special prayer, called Amatsu Norigoto. This was difficult. It took over a minute to recite and my memory wasn’t great, so I ended up reading it off a printed card. The stern Center Chief then interviewed me to inquire about my motives. I learned that some people were turned away. One woman was in a long-term de facto relationship and was told she couldn’t do Kenshu until she was married in a “correct” relationship. She didn’t come back.
There were preparation classes I had to attend, and I also had to promise to attend the post-Kenshu classes before the Chief would allow me to enroll, which were held once or twice a week at the Center.
After my interview I was “permitted” to offer my “donation” to attend the course, which was about $150 at the time. I also needed to sew little pockets into my bras and nightwear on the left (spiritual) side, to pin the Omitama into.
I had to take a day off work to be there as the course ran over three days, but Fred was taking the day off too so he could re-attend. Knowing he’d be there felt good. We were doing this together.
Finally, I was ready, all the boxes were ticked, and Kenshu started. It was intense but there was a level of high excitement too. The Center was packed. A lot of members re-attended, so they were all bustling around, setting up chairs and looking after the lecturer, who they treated with reverence. I found out he even had special meals prepared for him every day. Being permitted to prepare his meals was a special honor. We candidates were treated very well too, with everyone congratulating us and giving us hugs, giving us Light, and helping us however they could. I started to feel a bit excited.
The teachings at Kenshu were quite bewildering. At the start they tell you that you won’t be able to “taste the delicious tea” of the Mahikari teachings unless you discard the “old tea in your cup” — this stale drink being all your “useless human knowledge.” I felt uneasy about this but figured I ought to try my best to have an open mind, seeing as I was already somewhat committed. I decided to just accept what I was hearing for the moment. I could analyze it later.
The days were long, from early morning to early evening with very few breaks. The altar room was packed and warm. It was easy to nod off, but no one minded if candidates were sleepy. After each day I went off with Fred and my new friends to continue the excitement that came with the teachings. There were intense discussions along with some love bombing over dinner at nearby restaurants that went late into the night. It was a full-on experience, but I could rest later.
There were a lot of teachings about Su-no-kami-sama, the creator god, often called Su God for short. We learned about Okiyome, where to give this True Light for each type of “so-called disease”. We also learned about cleaning, “removing the impurities of the spirit and opening the yang spirit.” In other words, all sorts of problems in life were part of God’s precious arrangement to scrub your sin-laden soul clean and remove your negative karma. So, if you were unwell, or having relationship woes, or financial problems, you should be grateful for them and never complain. This cleaning could be eased by giving and receiving Light, and doing divine service.
We were taught about the principles of Ken Wa Fu—Health, Harmony and Wealth. It was said that the origin of all humankind started in Japan, and the Japanese Emperor was of divine lineage. There was a lot of talk about God and sub-gods, as well as the holy mission and history of Mahikari. The founder, Okada, was the Second Messiah. There was a coming Baptism by Fire that would forge a new spirit-centered civilization. I heard about attaching spirits, ancestors, karma; the sins and impurities we all shared, and how to erase them. We learned about the various ceremonies, how to offer prayers, why we should offer donations (there were a lot of those), and lots of other traditions. There was so much content to get through that there wasn’t time to ask questions. I figured I could do that later.
It was a lot to take in, and much of it sounded unbelievable to me. But everyone there was so supportive and kind, and I didn’t want to let anyone down, so I kept going.
There was a married couple attending Kenshu along with the rest of us. The wife quit after the second day, and I don’t recall ever seeing her again. Her husband didn’t last long as a member either. I heard later that they only expected around 10% of new members to stay on long term. In our group of candidates, these “pure devotees” were me and an older woman. She’s still in…
At the end of the third day, I was finally granted my divine pendant, the Omitama, in a special ceremony. Now I could give True Light too. Fred had tears of joy and hugged me. We had a special Okiyome session at the end of the day, with all of us new kamikumite giving Light for the first time. I gave Light to Fred, of course, as he had guided me to this Divine Path. My hand felt tingly when I focused on radiating Light. It suddenly hit me—this thing worked! I could feel it! And if this worked, well, then, logically the rest of it must be true, right? If it was true, actual teachings from an actual God, then I couldn’t pick and choose which bits to accept. It was all true. And so, at that point I took the whole of Mahikari into my belief structure. Everything.
After Kenshu, I was added to a small group of about 10 members with a Hancho (group leader) to care for me. My Hancho helped answer the questions I had and checked up on me every few days. She became a good friend. We had meetings at her house once a month. I really loved these, the small group was intimate and relaxed. We would exchange Okiyome, laugh, chat, and have coffee and snacks afterwards. We would study various things, like some teaching from Goseigen, their book of holy words, or we would go into depth on the care of ancestors or Omitama. It was such a strange new world, and I did my best to accept it all, even if I didn’t understand everything yet.
As kumite we were now “candidate seed people”—we had the possibility of being saved during the Baptism by Fire and were offered help to establish the new spiritual civilization. The conditions were that we offered ceaseless divine service to Su God and were found to be worthy. Just being a member didn’t qualify us for salvation, though—no, we had to be active top-quality members. There was no certainty involved.
I was gradually able to recite the prayer without a card, spurred on by their warning that you wouldn’t want to have to dig the words out of your pocket to read from if you were attacked or in a crisis situation. It was said that reciting the prayer forcefully could save lives and or calm down any situation, and it needed to be on the tip of your tongue. This made me a bit anxious.
I learned more about how to give Light. It mainly consisted of feeling for hard, hot or sore areas on the receiver’s body then holding your hand about 12 inches away and visualizing a stream of golden light energy from God passing through Omitama before making its way out of your body. The first part was a 10-minute session to the receiver’s “soul spirit” while they sat still with their eyes closed and hands together in a prayer position. It was important for the receiver to have their left thumb over their right thumb and left big toe over their right big toe when kneeling to receive Light on the forehead. This is because the left side of the body represented the spiritual aspect, and it needed to be in the dominant position over the right “physical” side. If you were having any serious problems, a senior staff member or priest could directly interrogate and guide your attaching spirits while giving you Light on the forehead. I know it sounds weird, but I had accepted the existence of attaching spirits, and thought it was amazing that we could communicate directly with them, and help them.
I was so keen to belong. It was important to get approval from Fred, my new kumite friends, my Hancho, the Doshi (priest), and the rather strict staff members. I wanted to be sunao, obedient.
Sometimes I found the teachings in the Goseigen very confusing. I was assured this was because I was new, though. When I questioned them and mentioned that some of the teachings seemed contradictory, I was told it could take years of study before I could understand their intricacies. I just wasn’t very elevated spiritually yet. So, I stopped questioning and instead read the text repeatedly, hoping for enlightenment one day.
There were many rituals and new practices to do every day. A lot of them were things we weren’t told about until we screwed up. I was reprimanded for walking the wrong way in the altar room—you had to walk along the rows of cushions, not across them as that “cut the Light” streaming from the altar. In Mahikari Centers and homes with small Goshintai altars, we had to enter in the correct direction, following the correct path. We couldn’t enter through the back door, for instance, otherwise it was a massive impoliteness to Su God. I only made that mistake once.
Having an Omitama was a huge responsibility. We were told it was more precious than our own lives. It had to be wrapped in a complex arrangement of waterproof and fabric layers. It couldn’t be worn back-to-front or sideways. It was not allowed to get wet, or to be put on a seat or the floor, or even touch below your waist. We were advised to wash our “top clothes” like bras and shirts separately from “bottom clothes” like socks and pants. I had to purify my hands and remove it each time I had a shower. Swimming was always nerve-wracking because I had to leave my Omitama at home — it had to be in its special box in a secure place. You couldn’t carry it in a bag or anything like that because it wouldn’t be safe enough. I avoided these kinds of activities after I became a kumite. When you removed the Omitama, you were also removing God’s protection and I grew fearful about not wearing it.
Eventually I also got a car protection shrine, which was a few inches high and looked like a tiny holy altar. This was attached to my dashboard to protect the vehicle from accidents.
It was important for us as Mahikari members to look after our ancestors, through an ancestors’ altar. About a year after I joined, I was permitted to set up an ancestors’ altar, which was a big deal. There was an inauguration ceremony at my home with dozens of kumite attending. I invited my family to join, but they were all on the other side of the country and politely declined. They never understood my involvement with Mahikari, anyway. Caring for ancestors included giving them a meal every day, giving them Light, reading them prayers and teachings, and greeting them when I left my home and when I returned.
There were a lot of duties that came with being a kumite, which left me with little time for my personal life. I was on the Okiyome roster at the Center for several hours a week, being available to give Light to anyone who came to the Center, member or not. I also needed time to exchange Light with another kumite as many days a week as possible at the Center or in our homes, which could take up to three hours. In addition to all this, I had to attend the compulsory post-Kenshu classes every week, and then other study classes once those had finished. There were other official and social events to attend too, like group meetings and ceremonies. Fred and I often went to the Center together after work. I made frequent and increasingly larger donations. It was a commitment, but I wasn’t lonely anymore. I had a community.
In addition to small daily ceremonies, the monthly thanksgiving ceremonies were a big focus point at the Center. People who lived further away from the Center would make the effort to attend these. We would all spend the day before cleaning the Center and preparing food offerings for the altar. Sometimes I would have a special role, like being a prayer leader, doing the flowers, caring for children, or offering an experience story.
Mahikari teaches that all medicine is toxic, and accumulates within you, eventually hardening in the body and causing diseases. As kumite we were expected to avoid medication as much as possible. Any physical pain or illnesses, or even difficulties in life were viewed as cleansing of our physical and spiritual bodies. If we impeded this cleaning by taking pain relievers or trying to stop a fever with medication, we were told we were actually adding to the toxins in our bodies, stopping melted toxins from leaving, and making everything worse. They didn’t entirely forbid us from seeking medical attention if it came in small doses, but we were expected to combine this with Okiyome and divine service. Vaccinations were definitely discouraged. Lots of things could create more sins and impurities, too, even things like having an injection or surgery. We were taught that 80% of physical and mental problems are caused by spirits attaching to our bodies. They say these sorts of problems can only be helped by offering divine service and receiving Light.
Getting help from a charity to alleviate serious issues like poverty or disability were also viewed as “interfering with God’s cleaning”. If we took help from anyone outside the group it would minimize this “precious arrangement” for cleansing our souls. Su God would have to give us stronger, harder cleaning as a result. The cause for a cleaning might entail severe relationship problems, a dreadful car accident, harsh financial crises, or an incurable disease. If your sins and impurities were vast, the level of God’s cleaning might have to be so much that you could even die from it. The only true charity was to give more donations to Mahikari to help them achieve their goals. We could, of course, do service work on our own if we wanted, if we had the time, but we needed to put Mahikari first. And Mahikari kept us very busy.
The founder Okada, also known as Sukuinushisama
Mahikari’s mission in the world is to unite all the religions and all of humanity. It is the “supra-religion”, the only true source of God’s will for all humankind. Our Master, Okada (called Sukuinushisama) was the Master for all people, not just us. All other religions had only been granted elements of the truth by God, pieces of the whole, and they’d done a bad job with the rest. All other forms of faith had turned into “pseudo-religions” tainted by humans. Every spiritual domain needed to be replaced with Sukyo Mahikari. Yes, you could still be a Christian or belong to another faith community as a kumite in theory, but you clearly weren’t really getting it if you still followed those other “pseudo-teachings”. You never had time to attend other events, anyway. In Goseigen Su God speaks to Okada about this:
“God has allowed all kinds of religious faith and belief to emerge at man’s own discretion … I let thee start proclaiming a Joint of the Arrangement to put an end to “the pseudo-civilization” and “the pseudo-religious faith and belief.”
Su God regards not only religions but also all human ideologies and human principles as pseudo-faith.
"This time, the pseudo-world in which men judged everything according to only their own conveniences will be changed into one in which God’s convenience comes first. … All religions (SHUKYO) cannot but go back to their origin which is the supra-religious teaching (SUKYO).”
As my experience in the group continued, I became a seriously devoted member. I tried, I really did. I desperately wanted to be a good, obedient kumite, to gain the approval from staff and the blessing of God to know for sure that I was doing the right things and that I was safe. I believed my commitment had the potential to save my family. Even though it seemed I wasn’t spiritually elevated enough yet for my influence to benefit them, I had hope I could change this eventually. Once I erased enough sins and impurities and did enough divine service to elevate my whole family’s situation, they would naturally want to follow me into the group.
We were told to be grateful for anything and everything, from morning ‘til night, and to always be smiling. “How gracious it is that nothing bad exists.” You could be going through the most awful things—severe illness, family problems, financial disasters—and you would be congratulated for having such a great cleaning. We were always smiling Yokoshi (bright sunlight children). Those were the thought-stopping clichés we used on ourselves.
Over time I was granted various roles within the Center, including being a Hancho. There was very little training with these promotions. We were told that God’s correct way of doing things would flow into us naturally because we had been bestowed with that official role. Whatever popped into my head when counseling a group member was what God wanted me to do or say. As a Hancho I also had to report any problems my members were having “upstream” to the staff; my group members were not always aware that their innermost struggles and secrets were being shared. I had one lovely gay man in my group. He was told his homosexuality was caused by attaching spirits, and he should offer more service to be “saved” from this “incorrect path”. I still regret that I was instructed to guide him in that way. It was so cruel.
After a few years, I was blessed with a new private sector job in a better business with increased pay and status. I was sad to stop working with Fred, but we still saw each other often at the Center. It was a new opportunity for me to guide people to Mahikari, and my new office was closer to the Center so I could often attend the Opening Ceremony before work. I could also go there in my lunch hour to offer service or attend the Closing Ceremony when my workday was over.
I did a vast amount of volunteer work for Mahikari and must have given thousands of hours of Light. I brought in four new members. I attended the Secondary Kenshu (Intermediate) and got a bigger, more powerful Omitama.
At Suza, in Takayama
I even went to Mahikari’s Main World Shrine, also called Suza, in Takayama, Japan. Twice. It’s supposed to be the only shrine in the world built for all of mankind. That building is pretty insane and awe-inspiring. Inside Suza is a huge worship room with an immense stage with a blue fish tank that has carp running underneath (as the blue horizontal “water” in their cross), and trees growing on the stage next to the massive Goshintai altar. Thousands of members were there whenever I attended. Those of us from overseas were given priority seats at the front. We got to see the current spiritual leader in person, on the stage, which was in itself such a divine blessing. The fervor and intensity of the ceremonies, prayers chanted in unison, and people experiencing intense cleaning were awe-inspiring and overwhelming, often bringing me to tears. There were “miracles” and intense social events where I made new friends from all over the world. All this coupled with exotic Japanese culture made for a heady mix.
The Goshintai in Suza, complete with fish tank
The first time I went to Japan, I was fascinated, and returned home burning with my mission to save the world alongside my Mahikari brothers and sisters. The second trip, a few years later, not so much. This time I was not doing so well—exhausted, anxious, and plagued with headaches again, which I did my best to be grateful for. The Japanese cultural experience was more familiar, and I knew what to expect at Suza and during the ceremonies and excursions. It was still inspiring though, and revitalized my flagging enthusiasm. For a while, anyway.
More cracks began appearing in my mind when I returned home. My constant involvement was affecting my mental and physical health. I couldn’t seem to shake the anxiety, exhaustion and headaches, no matter how much divine service I did.
Then I lost my partner at the Center. I was shaken to the core when my dear friend Fred suddenly quit. He tried to talk to me, but I couldn’t bear to hear why he was dropping out. I was heartbroken, but still invested in what I’d found in Mahikari, so I broke off all contact with him. His name was never mentioned at the Center once he left. It was like he’d never existed.
After more time passed there were things I just couldn’t ignore; things that didn’t tally with Mahikari’s professed holiness. I overheard senior staff criticizing members behind their backs, saying how so-and-so clearly wasn’t very awakened if they’d done x or y. I discovered that experience stories in the monthly journal were embellished with “miracles.” I noticed the priests and trainees who lived at the Centers were completely dependent on the organization, with practically no possessions or income. They had to be completely obedient to the senior staff and were usually sleep deprived. This lack of rest was yet another red flag. As a group we were encouraged to go without sleep to do more divine service and to give more and more Light to people, our homes, workplaces, food, gardens, and even machinery. We needed to guide more and more people with no breaks in the action. We were told that the more elevated you were, the less rest you needed. Our holy founder and his successors often only needed four hours of sleep a day. There was definitely pressure to emulate this—staying awake in order to offer divine service was a sign of spiritual elevation.
I started having nightmares about something happening to my Omitama or my ancestors’ altar, even though I always cared for these things correctly. I felt scared for the future, scared of taking my Omitama off, scared of evil attaching spirits destroying me. We were told attaching spirits could make you do things, see things, say things. I was told that God was watching and recording every little thing we thought and did. I started to believe that people could read my thoughts.
Some of the philosophies I internalized scared me too. Non-kumite who died had “deserved it”. They had deep sins and impurities, which could only be erased by annihilation. In fact, anything bad that happened to anyone, including kumite, was deserved. These hardships were opportunities for God to “scrub our souls clean”. Anyone affected ought to be grateful too. Never an angry thought or a sad thought. We were taught that getting angry caused more sins and impurities. We were told stories about the disasters that befell those who left—cancer, children dying, devastating car accidents, bankruptcy—which served their function of keeping us too scared to leave. Sometimes when a good thing happened to us, we were told it was because God was granting us a “demonstration miracle”—we hadn’t earned it, but God had arranged it to demonstrate His power and the truth of Mahikari to others through our success.
I saw earnest, devoted members giving up on medicine, delaying going to doctors, grinning and bearing severe symptoms, and sometimes even dying as a result; delaying diagnoses and reluctantly accepting treatments when it was too late. I saw children as young as 10 joining and learning that a pendant around their neck was more precious than their own young lives. I saw people being harshly judged and admonished for having sex out of wedlock or using birth control.
In short, I saw good altruistic people, the rank-and-file kumite who genuinely cared about others being harmed, and accepting this abuse willingly. I know because I accepted it too.
Eventually the contradictions, doubts and fear pushed me into severe depression. I didn’t want to leave Mahikari; I wanted to be one of the good ones who stayed despite the “spiritual opposition” from evil spirits impeding my divine service. But I was desperate. I couldn’t see a way of coping with the inside of my mind. Was I so deeply disturbed by attaching spirits, and so full of sins and impurities, that I would never be saved despite my service? Was my innermost attitude, my sōnen, totally wrong, even after all this time? The thoughts I was having made me believe so. Throughout all this I maintained an “always smiling Yokoshi” face in public, with bouts of desperate sobbing when alone. I wanted to die.
I reached out for help from my local Doshi. She advised me to offer more divine service. I was shattering into pieces, and the only solution was to do … more?
Eventually, I started to search for information about Mahikari online—something we were not supposed to do. I was desperately looking for help, how to stay committed as a member. I was having so many doubts and struggling so badly. And what did I find? Blogs and websites by ex-kumite, people who had gotten out. I sat reading for hours every night after leaving the Center. I was deeply shocked by what I read. I knew that reading these words, and keeping reading them was caused by my attaching spirits. Any criticism of the organization on the internet was the words of evil spirits trying to stop the progress of God’s Plan. But I couldn’t stop myself. I had to know.
I devoured the personal stories, which mirrored many of my experiences. I learned about the real history of the group, the founder’s deceptions, and the suspicious similarity of Mahikari’s teachings to a whole bunch of other groups’ teachings. I discovered the existence of a second Mahikari group, Sekai Mahikari Bunmei Kyodan, which also built the “one and only Mahikari Main World Shrine,” Su-Za, a five-and-a-half hour drive from Sukyo Mahikari’s Suza in Takayama. Mahikari’s revelations about the ancient history of Japan, how Japan was the birthplace of all mankind, were “scientifically proven” by fraudulent pottery finds planted by a Japanese archeologist. As I kept reading, more and more of it made sense to me. I was devastated. If the holy founder and his successors were lying to us about their histories and other things, what else was a lie? I gradually realized the teachings were manipulative- inducing confusion, shame and fear. They were not from God.
I kept attending the Center as I didn’t want my absence to draw attention, but my enthusiasm was gone and my hours dropped off. I started skipping ceremonies. I struggled to face the staff and kumite- to maintain the smiling mask. It got harder over the weeks.
One day, as I was leaving, an ecstatic kumite bounded up to me with a bewildered visitor in tow. The kumite said this person had been having migraines, and they wanted me to tell this newcomer about my miraculous healing from receiving Light as proof of God’s power. I suddenly saw how manipulative the whole awkward situation was. I attempted a smile, and—not having the courage to refuse—related very briefly how yes, receiving Light had helped my headaches go away, without mentioning that they’d returned. The kumite led their target off to receive Light, now with a personal anecdote on board to influence them. It may not seem like much, but it was the final straw for me. I stepped into the corridor, put on my shoes, and walked out. I never set foot in there again.
I took down my ancestors’ altar and the car protection shrine, removed the pockets from my bras, and took off the wretched Omitama from around my neck. It was a massive relief.
But I wasn’t fully out emotionally. I was terrified for months, feeling naked and vulnerable without divine protection. I saw a doctor and was doing better on anti-depressants, but the anxiety and confusion still washed through me every day, and I had more nightmares.
I kept investigating, trying to understand what had happened to me. I wanted to understand what Okiyome might be, and discovered that other groups had similar “healing energy”. It wasn’t all that different from Reiki, for example, although Reiki is often done “hands on” and True Light is given with the hand held at a distance. Johrei healing, I discovered, is practiced by the group that Master Okada used to belong to.
My view is that this “spiritual energy” is a placebo treatment. No properly conducted studies on this healing modality have ever found an effect. Relaxing and focusing attention mindfully can often help you feel better. Placing a hand on your chest can calm your nervous system. Sitting quietly with a friend for half an hour while they cared for you could naturally help tension headaches go away. Some conditions are naturally going to improve by themselves. The tingling I felt in my hand was simply from directing attention to it; the suggestion that this is what I might feel was also planted in my mind by the teachings and other kumite. I can recreate that tingling sensation still, just by focusing on my hand.
Broken Omitama
Slowly I was able to feel my way back to some semblance of normal life with the help of a wonderful psychologist who had experience with this sort of thing.
I was able to realize I had been in a cult. I’m still trying to understand how this happened to me, and how I missed all the warning signs. I am still utterly appalled that I had gone from being skeptical about their teachings at the start of Kenshu to believing it all so suddenly. How could that happen? What did they do to me during Kenshu to cause such a complete and sudden conversion? It scares me to this day, to be honest—could this sort of manipulation and deception happen to me again?
Things are better now, though. I’m back to being an atheist. I have reconnected with my family on a deeper level. I rely on evidence-based medicine. I still have a way to go, but I’m on the path of recovery. I understand more about coercive control and influence techniques.
And what happened with Fred, my dear friend who had woken up before me? I reached out to him on the day I walked out of the Center for good. He wept with relief when I called him. We had so much to talk about and were deeply bonded though our experiences inside and out of the cult.
Reader, I married him.
For more information about the cult of Sukyo Mahikari, we recommend the following links:
http://mahikariexposed.com
