True graduation means you stop being a spiritual consumer. You stop looking outside yourself for what you've discovered lives within you. You stop being dependent on external sources for your connection to the sacred.
My 3 AM came like a G-force of instability. Everything melts away. The fabric of reality, thoughts, and emotions are even questionable. Yes, I know what the void feels like. I am consciousness and my truths are up to me- without the dogma, rules, and other things that I have been taught. If we don't believe in something with 100 percent of our heart, it is automatically limited, so it is about knowing, not believing. Keeping hope alive is worth never giving up, because when we give up, that is when- and only when- the situation becomes hopeless. Thank you for your words; they resonate with me.
This leaves me with a lot to consider. My “3 am” landed on the day that I knew organized religion was harming me. I didn’t know then that I wouldn’t find relief until I fully left it behind. I performed a new kind of spirituality after that and only this year found an authentic way. I accept there will be more chrysalises of change. As you outline, the work is remaining open to them. Thank you 🤎
Your courage to confront the agony of spiritual betrayal is rare and precious—most never make it past pretending relief is enough. You’ve done more than survive; you broke the “good seeker” facade and chose painful authenticity over borrowed comfort.
There’s no final arrival in this work—only deeper layers of liberation.
I’d love to hear more about the authentic way you’ve found this year. What does it look and feel like for you, now that you’ve left behind the performances of spirituality?
If you’re willing to share, I’m genuinely curious—your clarity could be valuable for anyone wrestling with the same passage.
It absolutely didn't feel like courage at the time. The metaphor I like to use is a castle tower crumbling. The entire structure crumbled and afterward came the long process of holding each piece of rubble up to the light to see if it was still sound enough to reconstruct something new.
I rejected anything that looked like spirituality for a couple of years and when I did begin to open again it was with the same performative pattern. I knew all the new-age buzzwords. I made myself the center of every conversation on enlightenment. I was operating under a new brand of spirituality but I was still using it as a way to prove to myself that I was more transcended than the humans around me.
True transformation started a few months ago when I had to face my longing to be "chosen" and start to let it go.
I loved this passage you used. "You discover that washing dishes can be as sacred as meditation...That being fully human is more spiritual than trying to transcend humanity." This is how I try to live now and I HAVE found moments of deep wisdom in everyday experiences.
This week I had a conversation with a new acquaintance about their meditation practice. Instead of rushing to offer every "me too" thought that arose, I listened. I reflected. I responded. My spirituality brings comfort to me even when I don’t share the details out loud. I don't have to perform or posture to feel the truth that is growing within.
p.s. I loved your choice of the picture of the phoenix. I wear the image as a tattoo, myself. A daily reminder that everything breaks down and from ashes, beauty rises.
My 3 AM came like a G-force of instability. Everything melts away. The fabric of reality, thoughts, and emotions are even questionable. Yes, I know what the void feels like. I am consciousness and my truths are up to me- without the dogma, rules, and other things that I have been taught. If we don't believe in something with 100 percent of our heart, it is automatically limited, so it is about knowing, not believing. Keeping hope alive is worth never giving up, because when we give up, that is when- and only when- the situation becomes hopeless. Thank you for your words; they resonate with me.
This leaves me with a lot to consider. My “3 am” landed on the day that I knew organized religion was harming me. I didn’t know then that I wouldn’t find relief until I fully left it behind. I performed a new kind of spirituality after that and only this year found an authentic way. I accept there will be more chrysalises of change. As you outline, the work is remaining open to them. Thank you 🤎
Your courage to confront the agony of spiritual betrayal is rare and precious—most never make it past pretending relief is enough. You’ve done more than survive; you broke the “good seeker” facade and chose painful authenticity over borrowed comfort.
There’s no final arrival in this work—only deeper layers of liberation.
I’d love to hear more about the authentic way you’ve found this year. What does it look and feel like for you, now that you’ve left behind the performances of spirituality?
If you’re willing to share, I’m genuinely curious—your clarity could be valuable for anyone wrestling with the same passage.
It absolutely didn't feel like courage at the time. The metaphor I like to use is a castle tower crumbling. The entire structure crumbled and afterward came the long process of holding each piece of rubble up to the light to see if it was still sound enough to reconstruct something new.
I rejected anything that looked like spirituality for a couple of years and when I did begin to open again it was with the same performative pattern. I knew all the new-age buzzwords. I made myself the center of every conversation on enlightenment. I was operating under a new brand of spirituality but I was still using it as a way to prove to myself that I was more transcended than the humans around me.
True transformation started a few months ago when I had to face my longing to be "chosen" and start to let it go.
I loved this passage you used. "You discover that washing dishes can be as sacred as meditation...That being fully human is more spiritual than trying to transcend humanity." This is how I try to live now and I HAVE found moments of deep wisdom in everyday experiences.
This week I had a conversation with a new acquaintance about their meditation practice. Instead of rushing to offer every "me too" thought that arose, I listened. I reflected. I responded. My spirituality brings comfort to me even when I don’t share the details out loud. I don't have to perform or posture to feel the truth that is growing within.
p.s. I loved your choice of the picture of the phoenix. I wear the image as a tattoo, myself. A daily reminder that everything breaks down and from ashes, beauty rises.