Beyond the Veil

Beyond the Veil: How My Descent into the Paranormal Taught Me the Value of Reason

With my background in education, psychology, literature, and philosophy, I have always been a natural skeptic. I was an agnostic who questioned everything and believed in nothing without proof. But in 1997, during my second year of teaching high school, that rational foundation was shaken to its core.

The Encounter that Changed Everything

A colleague invited me to a mysterious gathering. I arrived with a healthy dose of doubt, only to witness something I couldn't explain. A typical teenager sat in the center of the room, but when he spoke, a deep, resonant voice emerged. He began lecturing on Lao Tzu’s Tao Te Ching in an archaic, classical Taiwanese—a dialect that most young people today can barely understand, let alone master.

My instinct told me he was possessed—that he was a mere tool for unseen beings wanting to communicate. My curiosity was ignited. For the next two years, I plunged headfirst into the Unknown.

The High Cost of Obsession

I became a regular at these gatherings, staying up until 3:00 or 4:00 AM taking meticulous notes on "lectures" given by spirits claiming to be Taoist deities or historical figures. It felt like watching a grand, cosmic performance.

But the price of this exploration was high:

Physical Danger: I was so sleep-deprived that I once drifted into the oncoming lane while driving.
Professional Sacrifice: I quit my teaching job mid-semester just to pursue these mysteries full-time, leaving my principal, colleagues, and students baffled.
Personal Neglect: In my quest for the supernatural, I began to lose touch with my family and my young daughter.

I couldn't tell anyone the truth. If I had, they would have sent me to a psychiatrist. I felt like I was living a secret life, chasing spirits through mountains, cemeteries, and haunted houses.

The Great Disillusionment

What brought me back? It wasn't a sudden miracle, but a slow realization. These spirits, despite their "cool" ability to predict the future or know my past, were remarkably... human. They were petty, they argued, and they sometimes lacked the basic moral compass that a decent, ethical person possesses.

I became disillusioned. I realized that knowing the future didn't actually make anyone a better person. I began to crave the "normal" life I had abandoned. I wanted my family, my work, and my sanity back.

My Mess, My Message: The Power of Reason

Looking back, I once wondered why I had to go through such a strange, dark period. Now I know: it was to forge a level of discernment that no textbook could ever provide.

I emerged with a rigorous filter for truth. Today, I don't care if a being claims to be a god, a Buddha, or a psychic with incredible powers. If what they say doesn't align with reason and morality, I do not follow. I have replaced blind faith with a "make sense" path.

In Buddhism, it is acknowledged that there are many things in the universe we cannot know. We should remain open-minded about the unknown, but we must never let it drive the bus. We are responsible for our own choices and our own moral conduct.

Turning the "Mess" into Growth

To anyone who finds themselves lured by the "miraculous" or the "supernatural," here is what my journey taught me:

Psychic abilities are not a substitute for character. A person (or spirit) might know your past, but that doesn't mean they should guide your future. The most "noble" path isn't found in a haunted house or a mystical lecture—it’s found in the simple, everyday act of living according to your conscience and reason. I lost my way so that I could help others find theirs, and for that, I am finally grateful for the detour.

Luke Lin 2/8/2026