Integrating Evil

We have often discussed that the widespread idea in contemporary, near‑esoteric discourse—that destructive elements of the psyche must be "accepted" and "integrated"—is, from a Traditional perspective, highly problematic. This dangerous misunderstanding likely stems from a failure to grasp the nature of demons, who are commonly denied any substantiality and dismissed as mere "bugs" of the psyche; yet no one in their right mind would suggest admitting an alien, malevolent, destructive, and autonomous will into consciousness.

Nevertheless, in practice the integration of a demonic will into human (and sometimes other) consciousness does occasionally occur—as an extreme form of possession—and its consequences are grave and far‑reaching.

Although genuine cases of possession have always been relatively rare, and only a tiny fraction progress to full integration, over the course of human history a noticeable number of beings have emerged as products of such "hybridization." Many no longer remember that, perhaps in lives long past, their consciousness experienced such a "fall"—a fusion of two beings of different natures. In the vast majority of these unions the demonic personality becomes dominant, while the human personality is driven to the periphery of the psychocosm and there "falls asleep," becoming nearly undetectable. Far more rarely, the two personalities form a kind of ensemble, acting together but alternating in expression.

This integration is fundamentally different from the ordinary human “shadow”. It is often experienced as an "finding of oneself," but in reality it replaces the central core of personality.

More often than not the decisive turn begins with a shift in the meaning of "acceptance." From a Traditional viewpoint, "acceptance" means recognizing one’s weakness, diagnosing one’s dead ends and destructive tendencies, and then accepting responsibility for healing. In current discourse, however, "acceptance" is frequently taken to mean capitulation to an impulse: if something in me is dark and destructive, it is labeled "mine," and so it should be allowed to express itself—its voice to be heard and its place in consciousness conceded. That argument is attractive because it absolves one of the work of discernment. It presents vice as identity, pathology as "nature," and weakness as the only possible state. This is why calls to "integrate evil" are so common: they promise salvation without repentance, power without purification, attainment without transformation.

Even at the level of obsessions or possessions, experiences almost everyone encounters at some point, we are not merely dealing with an inner conflict or with the activity of a person’s shadow psycho‑elemental—the lamassu. Rather, it is the gradual construction within the psychocosm of a secondary center that begins to speak in the first person. During possession this center is still experienced as a state, an external intrusion, a temporary obscuration. As it approaches integration, however, it is increasingly perceived as character; the person stops discerning the boundary between their own decisions and imposed ones, between their clarity and an alien, cold reasoning. The inner experience is often deceptively satisfying: a sense of unity appears, doubts vanish, complexity fades, and the world seems to align into a single, pre‑justified line.

At this stage demonic influence often masquerades as maturity: gratitude fades, compassion is labeled a "weakness," and doubt is treated as betrayal. Conversations take on an air of incontestable correctness, where cruelty is justified by "necessity" and any objection is reinterpreted as a personal attack.

Thus the true self is gradually pushed to the margins, ceding its right to choose to the demon and eventually losing memory of that right. A person continues to live, speak and act, retaining intellect and social functionality, yet the inner center where compassion, shame and gratitude arise slowly empties. The demon fills that void with surrogates: morality without love, righteousness without mercy, clarity without humility. Externally one appears "convicted," "strong," "honest," while internally a hybrid structure forms dominated by an alien source of will.

This is why Tradition is so cautious about the idea of "integrating the destructive." The human shadow can be healed because it remains human: it springs from repressed fear, pain, pride, a thirst for recognition—wounds and weaknesses that can and must be transformed through discipline, practice, contemplation and search. The demonic vortex, however, is fundamentally oriented toward destruction; it cannot be re‑educated or assimilated. It must be cut off from its nourishment and expelled.

If this is not done, the "hybrid" being consolidates and reincarnates, often forgetting the reasons for its "gravitation toward evil." The world then accumulates more beings for whom destruction is a deeply ingrained impulse—beings who require not mere "therapy", certainly not "acceptance," but radical transformation of consciousness: a global restructuring, the removal of the destructive center, and the recovery of the sleeping self.

To avoid that outcome and to avoid becoming an additional source of destruction in an already unhealthy world, it is essential to learn to discern what in consciousness requires healing and what is the admission of an alien, destructive volitional center. So long as that discernment is preserved, the future remains open: one who has approached the brink is not yet obliged to cross it. They remain free as long as they can reclaim the right to choose, the capacity for compassion, the feelings of love and gratitude, and the ability to say "no."