Tantra as an expression of indigenous Humanism



1. Introduction: Tantra and Indigenous Humanism

While many sources define Tantra as the union of the Sanskrit roots tan (to expand) and tra (to liberate), I often found myself asking: expand what? Liberate from what? These definitions appear frequently in both academic and spiritual texts, but in my view they do not unpack the lived meaning of these words.


Through personal practice and reflection, I’ve come to understand that expansion is about widening perception seeing beyond fear, ego, and social conditioning.


Liberation is not about escaping life, but moving through it with clarity and freedom from unconscious patterns. For me, Tantra is not mysticism but it is lucid awareness in motion.


My Guru, Shri Bhasurananda Natha, once told me: “Don’t read the book first. You experience it. Books are other people’s experiences, and they can corrupt your mindset. If your experience is real and true, it should correspond with what’s in the book.” [2]


That teaching became my foundation. He taught me that real Tantra is not about acquiring mystical powers or chasing enlightenment, it is about living consciously, responsibly, and fully, even in the face of uncertainty.


Under his guidance, I learned that the rituals, the breathwork, and the awareness practices are not meant to please the gods/goddess, but to prepare the self to meet life with presence, strength, and compassion.


In this article, I would like to explore Tantra as an expression of Indigenous Humanism. This approach views Tantra not as superstition or esoteric mystery, but as a deeply human, ethical, and experiential tradition.


Tantra, as I’ve come to know it, aligns deeply with these values. It is a system created by humans to overcome suffering, to expand awareness, and to live more fully in a challenging world.


It teaches through the body, the breath, and direct experience. It does not ask for blind faith in a supreme being, it asks for honesty, discipline, and personal responsibility.


And yet, despite its empowering nature, Tantra has long been misunderstood, sensationalized, and in some cases, deliberately distorted. From being dismissed as black magic during colonial times to being sexualized and commodified in modern wellness spaces, much of what is commonly associated with Tantra today is far removed from its true roots.


This article is both a reflection on my own journey and an attempt to reframe Tantra through the lens of Indigenous Humanism. It is, in many ways, a continuation of my Guru’s transmission as a living, breathing expression of the knowledge he passed on.


I do not claim to define Tantra for others. I only share what I have seen and lived, in the hope that it might offer a different, more grounded understanding of what this tradition truly is.

2. Understanding Indigenous Humanism

Before exploring how Tantra reflects the values of Indigenous Humanism, it’s important to understand what this term means.


Indigenous Humanism refers to a way of knowing and being that is rooted in ancestral wisdom, land-based practices, and lived, communal experience.


Unlike Western humanism, which often emphasizes rationalism, individual rights, and secular ethics derived from Enlightenment thinking, Indigenous Humanism is relational, embodied, and grounded in the rhythms of everyday life.


It recognizes the dignity of the human person, but not in isolation instead, it sees the individual as always embedded in a web of connections: to family, community, land, ancestors, and spirit.


Indigenous Humanism does not require belief in a god or a structured religion. Instead, it encourages awareness of the sacred in daily living the breath, the body, the seasons, the life cycle.


It emphasizes that knowledge is not something to be memorized and tested, but something that is lived, practiced, and passed on through story, ritual, observation, and participation.


A person becomes wise not by quoting texts, but by showing up with responsibility, humility, and care. This kind of wisdom is earned through life not claimed through status.


Key values of Indigenous Humanism, as I understand and experience them, are rooted in lived life, not in abstract theory which goes as follows :

[i] It emphasizes embodied knowledge, wisdom that comes from direct experience, from using the senses, from being fully present in the world. It is not something memorized from a text, but something learned by walking the path, sometimes stumbling, and still moving forward.


[ii] It is built upon community and relationality. In this view, a human being is never separate from others. Our responsibilities, our joys, and our growth happen in relationship with people, with nature, with ancestors, and even with silence.


[iii] Indigenous Humanism holds a deep respect for diversity. It recognizes that truth is not singular or universal, but shaped by context, culture, environment, and the unique stories of each community. There is no single lens that fits all.


[iv] It values ethical action, not as something defined by rules or religious doctrine, but as what supports life, dignity, and balance. Right action is what nurtures harmony and respects the interconnectedness of all things.


[v] There is an openness to spiritual awareness, even without religion. It honours the sacred in everyday life the breath, the land, the moment, and it allows space for wonder and meaning without needing to name it as divine.


This approach is evident across many traditions, whether it’s the Ubuntu philosophy of Southern Africa (“I am because we are”), the Andean ayllu systems of reciprocity, the Dreaming of Aboriginal Australians, or the animistic traditions across Asia.


What binds them together is the understanding that being human means living in right relationship with self, others, and the world. When I speak of Indigenous Humanism in this paper, I am not referring to a single tribe or geographical group, but to this shared worldview found across many indigenous traditions including the one I now understand Tantra to be part of.


It is a humanism that honors the body, the land, the story, and the breath. A humanism that does not separate the sacred from the practical. As Ole Henrik Magga, professor at Saami University College, states in his keynote address at the World Library and Information Congress: “Indigenous knowledge is the true root of humanism… it has been obtained through generations of daily experience and testing… much longer than any of the Western ways of establishing and testing knowledge has existed… It is truly human-oriented in a broad sense: it takes into consideration the role and position of human beings in a wider whole.” (Magga, 2005, p. 7)


He goes on to ask, “What is more humanistic: Seeing the whole and not losing it out of scope, or going into details and risking losing the whole?” This is the essence of Indigenous Humanism. It doesn’t reduce life into data points. It sees the human being as part of a living, intuitive system. It honours both experience and wholeness, and it does not separate the knower from what is known.


In this way, Tantra as I have experienced it is a living expression of this worldview. It too invites us to see the whole, to engage all parts of ourselves in the search for clarity, and to honour the knowledge that emerges not from distance, but from direct, embodied experience.

[3] Tantra as Indigenous Humanism


When I reflect on Tantra not the way it has been marketed or misunderstood, but the way I’ve come to know it through lived experience I see it as deeply aligned with Indigenous Humanism.


It is a path that values direct experience, self-awareness, and embodied wisdom. It doesn’t tell us what to believe. It calls us to wake up, observe, and take responsibility for our choices. It teaches us how to live in this world, not escape it.


This aligns with what Brooks (1990) describes as Tantra’s emphasis on inner transformation and experiential practice within the Shakta tradition.


To me, Tantra is a tool created by humans to meet the realities of life a way to overcome fear, suffering, confusion, and the chaos of the world around us. It helps us train the body, the breath, the mind, so that we can respond to life with presence and clarity.


The rituals, mantras, and practices are not magical formulas. They are processes disciplines that help us face the human condition with strength and compassion (Feuerstein, 1998).


Many scholars now recognize Tantra as a system that emerged outside or alongside Vedic orthodoxy possibly even older. Jeffrey D. Long (2020) notes that “Tantra either emerges as a reaction against Vedic thought and practice or it is an older indigenous system that asserts itself against Vedic religion as the latter is carried by its Brahminical adherents from the northwestern part of India to the rest of the subcontinent.” He adds that early traces of what we now call Tantra may have existed as “proto- tantric” or “pre-tantric” systems.


This perspective reinforces the idea that Tantra was not born from elite or priestly traditions but from the ground, from the people, as a response to life’s real demands. This is why I say Tantra reflects the values of Indigenous Humanism.


Like many indigenous traditions, it doesn’t separate the sacred from the ordinary. It teaches through the body. It honours the breath. It respects knowledge that is earned through living, not memorised from a book.


As Padoux (2017) wrote, “there is no Tantrism (or any creed) without its being experienced, lived, in the body or, more exactly, in an indivisible body-mind totality” (p. 24).


In Tantra, knowledge is not handed down as doctrine. It is discovered through practice. The deities are not external beings to worship, but symbols of inner qualities we are meant to awaken. To become Ganesha is to face obstacles with wisdom and calm. To become Shakti is to rise with power and grace. To become Shiva is to rest in stillness and clarity. These images are not idols they are mirrors. They help us see ourselves, and they remind us that the divine is not out there somewhere, but within us, if we’re willing to do the inner work.


As human beings, we are naturally drawn to symbols and stories. Our minds seek patterns to make sense of the world. Tantra uses these patterns not to trap us in belief, but to help us grow beyond our limitations (Brooks, 1990).


That is why it feels so human to me so close to the earth, to breath, to truth. In this way, I see Tantra not as a religion, but as a form of Indigenous Humanism.


It is not about submission. It is about awakening. It invites us to live with attention, discipline, and heart. It doesn’t promise salvation, it gives us tools to walk our path with integrity.


As I explored these ideas more deeply, I began to see clear patterns between what I’ve learned through Tantra and the values described in Indigenous Humanism.


While they arise from different contexts, they share a common core, a worldview shaped by embodiment, interconnection, and a reverence for life.

The following table offers a side-by-side comparison of the key characteristics that resonate between these two traditions:




[4 ] Myth and Archetypes – Psychological Mirrors
One of the reasons Tantra has remained alive and relevant over centuries is its use of myth and symbolic imagery not as fantasy, but as a way to speak to the human mind. As humans, we are wired to seek patterns. We understand life through stories, through symbols, through roles we can relate to.

Tantra recognizes this. It uses deities not to enforce worship, but to reflect back to us the qualities we already carry within (Feuerstein, 1998). In my own reflection, I began to understand that when we speak of “becoming Shakti” or “becoming Shiva,” we are not talking about becoming a god in the religious sense.

We are talking about embodying a specific state of energy and awareness. These images are tools for awakening archetypes designed to help the practitioner cultivate consciousness (Brooks, 1990 White, 2000).

They are not idols to be feared or obeyed they are mirrors that point inward. Even the image of Ganesha, often associated with ritual offerings, holds deeper meaning. Ganesha is the remover of obstacles, but also the one who teaches us patience and timing. To “become Ganesha” is to move through challenges with calm and intelligence, a theme explored throughout Tantric teachings (Urban, 2003). These stories evolve as the human psyche evolves.

They are not static beliefs, they are living, symbolic expressions of psychological and cultural truths (White, 2000). They reflect not only spiritual aspiration, but also the changing values and social dynamics of the communities that practice them. This symbolic language makes Tantra accessible, even when its outer forms seem complex. It allows people to connect with wisdom not only through belief, but through feeling, ritual, and presence. That is why I see it as an Indigenous Humanist tradition it meets people where they are, and uses what is meaningful to guide them toward inner transformation.

[5] Misunderstandings and Corruptions of Tantra

Over time, Tantra has become one of the most misunderstood and misrepresented paths. What was once a deeply personal and ethical practice has been reduced in many spaces to superstition, sensationalism, or sexuality.

These distortions began during the colonial period, when Western scholars projected their own fears and prejudices onto Tantric traditions, describing them as perverse or demonic (Urban, 2003 White, 2000). In his historical analysis, Urban (2003) shows how Tantra was exoticized, feared, and politicized by colonial thinkers and later reframed in Western pop culture. White (2000) further explains how the Western imagination often linked Tantra exclusively to sexuality and secrecy, stripping it of its original ethical and philosophical foundations.

Even within India, Tantra has often been misunderstood associated with black magic, secrecy, or social deviance. In my view, part of this distortion came from the fact that Tantra promotes personal empowerment, the idea that anyone, through discipline and awareness, can access spiritual insight and transformation.

This directly challenged the emerging Brahminical hierarchy, which positioned itself as the exclusive guardian of religious knowledge and authority. In this framework, Brahmins were “born,” not made, and access to spiritual or philosophical knowledge was tied to caste and lineage.

As Johannes Bronkhorst (2016) notes, the rise of Brahminical dominance in post-Vedic India involved the strategic consolidation of both spiritual and social power, often through the marginalization of alternative or competing systems of knowledge.

Tantra, which emphasized direct experience and internal mastery, was seen as threatening to this carefully constructed order. As a result, its practitioners were often dismissed or demonized, and the tradition itself became entangled with labels of black magic, secrecy, or social deviance. Ironically, this demonization also created a kind of allure, drawing in individuals for the wrong reasons.

When a tradition is whispered about as forbidden or powerful, it often attracts those seeking shortcuts or control, rather than transformation. This, too, is why I feel compelled to explore this topic further. If we can return to the roots of Tantra, as a human-centered practice of clarity, responsibility, and empowerment, we can reclaim it not as superstition or mysticism, but as a deeply ethical and liberating system grounded in Indigenous Humanism.

As I understand it real Tantra is not about spectacle. It is not about sex or power. It is about the breath, the body, the moment, and the ethical clarity to walk through life with awareness and service. My Guru reminded us always: “Use what you’ve learned for others. Leave no trace. Do not wait for praise.”That is not superstition that is humanism in practice. [2]

To reclaim Tantra is to return to its roots not to erase history, but to re-center lived wisdom, ethical responsibility, and direct experience. As a form of Indigenous Humanism, Tantra offers not just tools for awakening but reminders of how to live with humility, purpose, and compassion.

[ 6 ] Returning to the Source – Personal Reflection

This article is not just an academic project. It is a personal reflection. It is also a quiet offering one that honours the journey I’ve taken, the teacher who guided me, and the path I now walk on my own. Tantra, as I have come to know it, is not something I studied in a textbook. It was something I lived, something I was initiated into, and something I continue to carry inside me.

It was passed to me not through doctrine, but through experience through my Guru, Shri Bhasurananda Natha).[2] He never claimed superiority, and he never asked for worship. One day, he told me gently, “What I’m doing right now is simply this: I’ve stopped, turned around, and reached out to hold your hand to help you move forward. But a time will come when you’re ready. Then I must let you go, and you must walk your own path, in your own way.” That moment stayed with me.

When he passed away in April 2024, I felt both sadness and strength. He had already given me everything I needed. His presence was no longer in the form of a teacher standing before me it had become part of me.

He taught me that the purpose of Tantra is not to gain powers or special status. Powers may come, yes, but you don’t seek them.

“From your practices,” he told me, “you may inherit certain abilities. But they are not for your personal gain. You use them to help those in need. You come, do what is needed, and leave. Do not wait for praise. It’s okay if no one knows it was you.” Those words still guide how I try to live, not just as a tantrik, but as a human being.

This echoes what Feuerstein (1998) describes as the heart of Tantra: not a quest for supernatural power, but a path of ethical awareness and inner clarity. When I describe Tantra as a form of Indigenous Humanism, I do not say it lightly. I say it because I see it.

I see in Tantra the same values found in many indigenous worldviews: respect for the body, honouring the breath, grounded-ness in the present, and an ethics of relationship not only with people, but with nature, time, silence, and energy.

It is not about worshipping a god or following a fixed doctrine. It is about showing up with awareness, taking responsibility for your choices, and serving when you can. This resonates with Magga’s (2005) view that indigenous knowledge is both human-oriented and deeply holistic, rooted in generations of lived experience and intuitive wisdom.

I don’t need anyone to agree with me. This is not a campaign. It is a witnessing. My Guru often told me, “Use what you have learned. Help others when you can. That is enough.” He also said, “Do not call me God. Don’t put me on the altar. I am not an idol. I am a mirror. Use what you see and move forward.”

I have tried to do that with humility, clarity, and a deep sense of gratitude. [2]

Tantra, to me, is a return. A return to what is real. A return to the breath, the body, the moment. It does not ask us to escape life it asks us to live it fully, with our eyes open and our hearts grounded. In this noisy world, where so much is performed and so little is embodied, Tantra offers something quiet but powerful: a reminder that the sacred is already here, if we choose to see it. That is the path I walk. And that is the path I offer in this article.

[7] Conclusion

This paper began with a simple but personal question: what does it truly mean to expand and to be liberated? These words so often repeated in definitions of Tantra felt incomplete until I experienced them for myself. Through my journey and the guidance of my Guru, I came to understand that expansion is about widening our field of awareness, and liberation is about breaking free from the mental and emotional patterns that keep us small.

This is not mysticism. It is practical, embodied, and deeply human. By reframing Tantra as a form of Indigenous Humanism, I hope to offer a fresh perspective one that brings Tantra back to its roots. Like other indigenous knowledge systems, Tantra is relational, intuitive, and grounded in lived experience.

It does not separate the sacred from the ordinary. It does not demand belief, but instead invites observation, discipline, and awareness. This aligns with what Ole Henrik Magga (2005) calls “the true roots of humanism” wisdom cultivated through generations of life-tested experience that sees the human being as part of a greater whole.

Tantra teaches us not to escape the world, but to meet it fully. Not to seek power, but to take responsibility. Not to worship an external god, but to embody clarity, courage, and compassion. It offers tools for personal transformation, not for egoic gain, but for meaningful participation in life and service to others (Feuerstein, 1998).

I do not claim to speak for Tantra. I only speak from where I stand from the tradition I was initiated into, from the life I have lived, and from the wisdom I have received. In doing so, I hope this article serves as a small window into a deeper, quieter truth: that the sacred is already within us.

That the path forward is not about performing or proving but about becoming fully human, fully present, and fully alive. This article is not meant to offer a definitive conclusion on the relationship between Tantra and Indigenous Humanism.

Rather, it is a beginning, a personal and exploratory mapping of something I have long sensed but only recently begun to name. What I’ve presented here is a preliminary association, grounded in both lived experience and supported by emerging scholarship.

There is still so much more to uncover, historically, philosophically, and in terms of lived traditions. I hope to deepen this inquiry further, and perhaps, one day, develop it into a more sustained academic project.

For now, this paper is both a reflection and a starting point, a thread I intend to keep following.

Notes
​
[1] Shri Bhasurananda Natha was the author’s Tantric Guru. His teachings were shared orally through personal instruction and initiation between 2019 and 2023.

[2] Personal Communication Several teachings and quotations throughout this paper are drawn from personal communication with my Guru, Shri Bhasurananda Natha, between 2019 and 2023. These were transmitted orally as part of the traditional Guru–śiṣya relationship during my Tantric training and initiation.

References

Bronkhorst, J. (2016). How the Brahmins won: From Alexander to the Guptas. Brill.

Brooks, D. R. (1990). The secret of the three cities: An introduction to Hindu Shakta Tantrism. University of Chicago Press.

Feuerstein, G. (1998). Tantra: The path of ecstasy. Shambhala Publications.

Long, J. D. (2020). Tantra: A much-misunderstood path to liberation. In G. Flood (Ed.), The Oxford history of Hinduism: Tantra (pp. 154–169). Oxford University Press.

Magga, O. H. (2005, August). Indigenous knowledge systems – The true roots of humanism. Paper presented at the World Library and Information Congress: 71st IFLA General Conference and Council,Oslo, Norway. Retrieved from https://www.ifla.org/past-wlic/2005/93magga-en.pdf

Osho. (1991). The book of secrets: 112 meditations to discover the mystery within. St. Martin’s Press.

Padoux, A. (2017). The Hindu Tantric world: An overview. University of Chicago Press.

Urban, H. B. (2003). Tantra: Sex, secrecy, politics, and power in the study of religion. University of California Press.

White, D. G. (2000). Tantra in practice. Princeton University Press.