The fire leaps high. Flames lick at the wooden sticks the priest throws onto the altar. Drumbeats. Mantras growing faster, more urgent. The smoke rises in thick spirals to the ceiling, heavy with the scent of sandalwood and herbs. The heat strikes the face. And in the middle of the flames — invisible and yet present — Fudō Myōō, the unmoving Wisdom King, burns away all that is no longer needed.
This is Goma 護摩. One of the oldest and most powerful rituals of Shingon Buddhism. No silent prayer in candlelight. But fire, heat, smoke, sound — a ritual that takes hold of every sense and sets in motion a transformation that begins in the body.

The Kanji: 護摩 ゴマ
So the Japanese word Goma is not really a Japanese term in the narrow sense. It is the bridge to a tradition that is millennia older than Japanese Buddhism itself. A tradition that began in the Vedic fire temples of India and travelled along the Silk Road, through China, all the way to Japan.
From India Through China to Japan — the Path of Fire 火
The roots of Goma reach back to Vedic India — over 3,000 years. There it was called Homa or Agnihotra: a fire offering in which gifts were thrown into the sacred flame to renew the connection between human being and cosmic order. The fire was not destruction. It was transformation. It received the earthly offering and turned it into something that could rise to the heavenly powers.
When esoteric Buddhism — Vajrayana — arose in India, it took up this fire practice and joined it with Buddhist philosophy. The Vedic offering became a Buddhist ritual of transformation. The fire kept burning. But what was burned changed: no longer food for the gods, but one's own attachments, distortions, what clouds the mind.

The practice reached China along the Silk Road. From there Kūkai 空海 brought it to Japan in the 9th century when he returned from his studies in Tang-era China. His master Huiguo had given him the complete transmission of the esoteric tradition — including the Goma practice. Kūkai established the fire ritual as a central Shingon practice on Kōyasan and in the temples across Japan.
The Goma fire has a journey of over 3,000 years and thousands of kilometres behind it. From the Vedic fire temples of India through the esoteric Buddhist masters of China to the Shingon temples of Japan. And at every step of the journey, it has transformed — like what it burns.
Fudō Myōō — the Unmoving Wisdom King 不動明王
At the centre of every Goma ritual stands Fudō Myōō 不動明王 — literally: "the unmoving Wisdom King." He is a Myōō, a Vidyaraja, a being of immense force in the service of awakening. No god in the Western sense. No demon. But a manifestation of the wisdom of the cosmic Buddha Dainichi Nyorai 大日如来, with one specific task: to cut through obstacles.
Fudō Myōō is depicted with a sword in his right hand — the sword of wisdom that cuts through the bonds of ignorance. In his left hand he holds a rope with which he binds and tames attachments. He sits on a rock, surrounded by flames. And those flames — they are the flames of Goma. The fire of the ritual is his fire. It is the manifestation of his transforming force.

His expression is wrathful — but it is no wrath born of hatred. It is the wrath of the compassionate. The wrath of a parent protecting a child from danger. The wrath that does not destroy but liberates. In the Shingon tradition it is said: Fudō Myōō is the reverse face of the smiling Dainichi Nyorai. Where the cosmic Buddha appears in stillness and light, Fudō appears in fire and resolve. Two sides of the same force.
The Ritual — How a Goma Unfolds 法
A Goma ritual is no improvised campfire. It is a precisely choreographed ceremony, every step carrying meaning. The priest — an initiated Shingon monk — prepares the altar: a square wooden fire altar surrounded by ritual implements. Vajra, bell, water cup, ritual ladles. Each object has its place. Each movement follows an order that goes back to Kūkai's transmission.
The fire is kindled. Not with a match — but through a ritual that sacralises the fire itself. It becomes the mouth of Fudō Myōō, the gate of transformation. Then the mantras begin. Nōmaku Sanmanda Bazaradan Senda Makaroshada Sowataya Un Tarata Kanman — the mantra of Fudō Myōō, recited in rhythm, growing faster as the fire rises.
Into the fire are thrown Gomaki 護摩木 — narrow wooden sticks on which wishes, prayers, or requests are written. Each stick is placed individually into the fire, accompanied by mantras and ritual gestures (mudra). The wood burns. The smoke rises. And with it — so the tradition says — the prayer rises, transformed by the fire, cleansed of the residue of the everyday.
Goma is no spectator ritual. It is an experience that takes hold of the whole body. The heat on the face, the smoke in the eyes, the rhythmic vibrating sound of the mantras — together these create a state hard to describe. Whoever takes part in a Goma for the first time understands in minutes what no book can convey.
The Five Forms of Goma 五種
Not every Goma is the same. In the Shingon tradition there are five different forms practised for different purposes:
Sokusai-Hō 息災法 — the ritual of peace-making and warding off calamity. It serves protection from harm and the restoration of harmony. The fire is round, the altar white.
Zōyaku-Hō 増益法 — the ritual of increase. It can multiply prosperity, merit, and beneficial forces. The fire is square, the altar yellow.
Chōbuku-Hō 調伏法 — the ritual of subduing. It is directed against inner and outer obstacles — not against people, but against the forces that cause suffering. The fire is triangular, the altar black.
Keiai-Hō 敬愛法 — the ritual of attraction and harmony. It fosters connection and harmonious relationships. The fire is lotus-shaped, the altar red.
Kōshō-Hō 鉤召法 — the ritual of summoning. It calls in the force needed — a specific guardian deity, a particular energy, a quality that is missing.
Each form has its own altar orientation, fire shape, colour, and mantra sequence. The precision is not pedantic — it carries meaning. As in a mandala, every detail stands in its place because it mirrors a cosmic order.
The Connection to Reiki — Transformation as Principle 靈氣
What does a fire ritual have to do with Reiki? At first glance: little. Reiki is quiet, touching, gentle. Goma is loud, hot, intense. And yet they share one principle: transformation. The turning of lower energies into higher ones. The dissolving of blockages, attachments, distortions — so that what lies beneath can become free.
In a Reiki session this transformation happens silently. The hands rest. The energy flows. And what is no longer needed is allowed to release — not through burning, but through presence. Through the force of Reiki, which like a quiet stream softens what has become rigid.
In Goma the same thing happens — but with fire. The wooden sticks carry the wishes and burdens. The fire receives them and transforms them. What was solid becomes smoke. What was heavy rises. The principle is identical: it is not about destroying something. It is about freeing something.
In Shingon Reiki this understanding is consciously cultivated. Reiki practice is not seen apart from the ritual context it comes from. Whoever understands the symbols, knows the mantras, knows where these practices come from, experiences Reiki not as a wellness method, but as part of a living tradition that takes fire rituals, mandala meditation, mantra recitation, and laying on of hands as different expressions of the same transforming force.
Mark in Japan — the Experience of the Fire 体験
Mark has taken part in Goma rituals in Japan — on Kōyasan, in the temples of Kyoto, in the mountain shrines of Shugendō. He knows the moment when the fire leaps so high that the heat strikes the face and instinct says: step back. And the moment after, when one stays. When one accepts the heat. When the fire stops being threat and begins to become transformation.
"At the first Goma you think you are watching a ritual," Mark says. "At the second you notice that the ritual is watching you. The flames respond to the mantras. The smoke does not move at random. And at some point you feel: there is something in the fire that is alive. Not the wood. Not the smoke. Something else."
This "something else" — in the Shingon tradition it is the presence of Fudō Myōō. Not as article of faith. But as experiential reality. Whoever sits in a Goma ritual can feel it: an intensity, a density, a wakefulness that differs from ordinary meditation. As if someone very great, very still, and very resolute were sitting next to you.
Goma cannot be read. It can only be experienced. The heat. The sound. The smoke. The presence of something larger than the room. No text can replace it. But a text can point the way — to the next event, the next journey to Japan, the next moment when the fire burns and the transformation begins.