The Disciple Who Mistook a Pyramid Scheme for a Pyramid of Wisdom
When sacred geometry meets Herbalife, even the enlightened need a refund policy.
⚜️ Satire Alert ⚜️
This tale of mystical hustle culture is entirely fictional.
No disciples were recruited, initiated, downlined, or auto-shipped during production.
Any resemblance to actual gurus, MLMs, or commission-based ascension programs is purely coincidental… though spiritually suspicious.
There was once a disciple who believed he had finally found his guru.
Not just any guru.
A guru who taught “sacred geometry,” wore linen pants year-round, and said things like “Your aura actually predates your personality, beloved.” The disciple thought he had reached the gates of enlightenment.
Then the guru said the words that should have been a clue:
“Initiation is free. But the starter kit is $249.”
That was the first red flag waving at him like a Tibetan prayer flag stitched by a disgruntled accountant.
But our poor disciple… he thought this was the cost of cosmic wisdom.
He thought the “starter kit” contained ancient scrolls, perhaps a quartz that hummed at the frequency of forgotten realms, or at least a USB drive containing the guru’s “Top 10 Mantras for Bypassing the Ego Without Noticing.”
Reader, it was Herbalife.
Twelve canisters of Herbalife.
A branded shaker bottle.
A pamphlet titled “Manifest Your First Downline.”
And a bumper sticker that said “I Am Limitless.”
Which was ironic, because he was about to hit every earthly limit in his checking account.
The guru explained it all with solemn dignity.
“These aren’t supplements,” he whispered.
“These are vibrational activators.”
The disciple gasped. Activators! Finally, something that sounded like enlightenment.
Then the guru added, “If you sign up three friends by Friday, you’ll reach the first level of ascension.”
Ascension.
A holy word.
A sacred promise.
Also, in this case, a commission tier.
It wasn’t until the guru said, “And once you reach Diamond Ascended Ambassador, you get access to the Secret Teachings,” that our disciple started to notice all the other students nervously comparing notes on whose Aunt Becky had blocked them for pitching transcendence through protein shakes.
He started to realize something:
None of this looked like the mystical path the desert fathers spoke about.
None of this sounded like Mary Magdalene’s luminous wisdom.
None of this even felt like meditation.
It felt like capitalism wearing mala beads.
The final moment of clarity came during “Satsang,” which turned out to be a PowerPoint presentation projected onto a wrinkled bedsheet. The guru clicked the remote and the slide read:
“Abundance Awaits (If You Hustle Hard Enough).”
The disciple felt something ancient inside him rise up. Possibly awakening. Possibly indigestion from the Mango Mystic Meal Replacement Shake.
Either way, it was truth.
He stood up, bowed politely, and walked out into the daylight where actual presence lives. And as he breathed in the air that costs nothing, he whispered:
“The path to enlightenment should never require auto-shipping.”
And somewhere in the cosmos, Mary Magdalene clapped softly.
Blessing:
May you know the difference between a teacher and a recruiter.
May you sense the difference between wisdom and marketing.
May your path be free of downlines, pressure tactics, and anyone trying to monetize your soul.
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