Sexual yoga in the Vajrayāna tradition, often called karmamudrā, isn’t about indulgence but about alchemizing raw desire into the very stuff of enlightenment. At its heart lies the fusion of compassion (karuṇā) and wisdom (prajñā), famously depicted in the yab-yum iconography—male and female deities locked in sacred embrace. That imagery signals the dissolving of dualities: self and other, pure and impure.

Most lineages today emphasize symbolic practice. Under strict vows (samaya), students visualize their own subtle bodies, merging inner “masculine” and “feminine” energies in the central channel. Breath control, mantra recitation and mental focus on blissful clarity transform sexual drive (bindu) into boundless awareness. It’s walking a tightrope, requiring impeccable guidance from a qualified teacher.

In rare, genuine oral transmissions, literal union may occur. Even then, it’s framed by absolute consent, bodhicitta motivation, and deep understanding of emptiness (śūnyatā). Modern teachers stress that without eradicating attachment, the practice risks reinforcing ego-clinging—precisely the opposite of its aim. Today’s #MeToo conversations have sharpened awareness around power dynamics in spiritual contexts, and many Vajrayāna communities reinforce ethical standards to prevent exploitation.

Western fascination with “tantric sex” often misses the mark, turning sacred tools into marketing buzz. Genuine karmamudrā remains an esoteric jewel, safeguarded by centuries of lineage protocols. Meditation on channels, chakras and subtle winds (vāyus) still forms the backbone, whether or not physical union takes place.

In an era of wellness trends and flashy retreats, true Tantra demands humility, patience and unwavering devotion to the path. When approached correctly, sexual yoga becomes less about the body’s pleasures and more about piercing through illusions—revealing the luminous heart of awakened mind.