Modern Buddhism often presents itself as rational, psychological, and almost clinical.
We speak of mindfulness as attention training, of meditation as mental hygiene, of awakening as insight into impermanence and non-self.

All of this is true.

Yet Buddhism has always carried another dimension—one that feels increasingly uncomfortable to modern sensibilities: mysticism.

Not metaphorical mysticism.
Not symbolic poetry.
But stories, experiences, and living traditions that point toward realities beyond ordinary sensory explanation.

This post is not an attempt to prove the supernatural.
It is a reflection on why mysticism continues to exist in Buddhism, why people across cultures still encounter it, and what may be lost when we dismiss it too quickly.

Why Do Some Buddhists Treat Monks Like Gods?

From a Western perspective, it can look baffling.

Why do some Buddhists bow to certain monks with extraordinary devotion?
Why are holy men and women sometimes spoken of as if they possess god-like powers?

The easy answer is: superstition.

But easy answers often hide deeper questions.

Before judging, it is worth listening to how faith actually forms.

A Story from Thailand

A Thai Buddhist once shared this story.

He was a devotee of a well-known mystic monk, whom he regarded as his teacher. Due to urgent business, he and his wife had to travel overseas suddenly. With no time to arrange proper childcare, they left their young son with his elderly mother.

The boy was extremely restless, difficult to manage, and prone to intense emotional outbursts. The grandmother was worried she would not cope.

Before leaving, the man told his mother:

“If anything serious happens, light five sticks of incense and pray to my teacher. Ask for help.”

Within a few days, the man returned to Thailand. Everything had gone smoothly. His mother looked exhausted—but relieved.

Later, on a Buddhist holy day, the family visited the monk. When it was their turn to receive blessings, the monk smiled and said:

“Your mother has been lighting five sticks of incense many times.”

He then described specific moments when the boy had erupted, how the grandmother felt overwhelmed, and how she prayed desperately for assistance. He joked that she had not only invoked him, but also called upon other famous monks from ancient times—asking everyone for help.

Laughing, he said:

“I was very busy during your trip. We nearly bumped into each other because everyone arrived at the same place at the same time.”

For this family, the story was not philosophy.
It was lived experience.

And it strengthened their faith.

Mysticism as Lived Reality, Not Abstract Belief

Stories like this are not rare in Buddhist cultures.

Many practitioners—monks and laypeople alike—quietly share similar accounts:
knowing things they should not know, appearing in dreams, offering guidance, intervening at crucial moments.

Personally, my first teacher had this quality as well.

Over time, such practitioners naturally take on an aura of something more-than-ordinary. Not because people think they are gods in the Abrahamic sense, but because they seem to operate from a level of awareness that does not fit neatly into everyday logic.

This is what we might call Buddhist mysticism:
not blind belief, but a recognition that consciousness may extend beyond the limits we currently understand.

The Buddha Himself Was Described as Mystical

Here is an uncomfortable fact for modern Buddhists:

The earliest scriptures openly describe the Buddha as possessing extraordinary abilities—clairvoyance, knowledge of past lives, divine vision, psychic powers.

These are not footnotes.
They are woven into the fabric of the texts.

Yet many contemporary practitioners prefer a version of Buddhism stripped of these elements. A Buddhism that resembles cognitive behavioral therapy with incense.

Again—this approach is not wrong.
But it is incomplete.

When “Scientific” Becomes a New Dogma

Science is one of humanity’s greatest achievements.

But science describes what can be measured, not necessarily all that exists.

When we label everything beyond current measurement as “superstition” or “delusion,” something subtle happens:

We begin cultivating aversion toward mystery.

Not wisdom.
Not careful skepticism.
But a reflexive closing of the door.

Ironically, this is un-Buddhist.

Because Buddhism trains us to remain open, curious, and aware of how limited our perceptions are.

True humility is not “I know everything.”
True humility is “I don’t know how much I don’t know.”

Remembering the World When We Believed in Magic

Most of us, as children, believed in something magical.

Santa Claus.
The tooth fairy.
Invisible worlds behind visible ones.

That world felt alive.
Colorful.
Charged with possibility.

Then we grew up and were told:

“That isn’t real.”

Fair enough.

But notice something strange:

When a world is declared unreal, it does not merely become false.
It becomes inaccessible. We become dead to it.

It might as well be dead, spiritually dead.

If that is the pattern, then each generation’s spiritual world is becoming smaller and smaller. And our spiritual life is getting shorter and shorter,

Not because reality is shrinking—but because our willingness to imagine beyond our models is shrinking.

Science Explains Mechanisms, Not Meaning

We no longer believe a god personally throws lightning bolts.

Science explains electricity.

Wonderful.

But does that automatically mean there are no devas?
No bodhisattvas?
No subtle dimensions of mind and existence? No Buddhist Pure Lands? No Buddhist Heavens?

Buddhism never claimed that gods control weather as emotional beings.

Buddhism speaks of multiple realms of existence, all impermanent, all conditioned, all interconnected.

Science has not disproven this.

It simply has not found tools to examine it.

Those are very different things.

A Quiet Question for Meditators

When we sit in samatha meditation, we try to quiet thought and remain undistracted.

We agree on that.

But here is a gentler question:

Have we also trained ourselves to quietly assume that only material reality exists?

Have we subconsciously decided that devas, bodhisattvas, and other realms are “just cultural stories”?

If so, that assumption itself becomes a distraction—
a hidden belief masquerading as rationality.

(Note: I am not encouraging everyone to meditate with the expectation of experiencing something mystical. That is not my point. )

Holding Both Worlds Gently

Mysticism in Buddhism does not demand blind belief.

It invites a different posture:

Not “This must be true.”
Not “This must be false.”
But:

“I do not know.
And I am open.”

You can practice diligently.
You can study psychology.
You can appreciate neuroscience.

And still allow space for mystery.

Perhaps that balance is closer to the Middle Way than either extreme.

Closing Reflection

Maybe mysticism is not about proving invisible beings.

Maybe it is about preserving a sense of depth in a universe that is too easily flattened into data.

A Buddhism without mysticism risks becoming dry technique.

A Buddhism without wisdom risks becoming fantasy.

Between the two lies something alive:

A path that is rational, ethical, grounded…
and quietly, humbly open to wonder.

That, perhaps, is where Buddhism has always lived.