When Spirituality Becomes a Disguise for Fear
One of the side effects of walking the spiritual path is that the deeper you go, the more you start to notice how spirituality itself can become a mask.
You start to see fear—cloaked in alignment. You hear avoidance—dressed up as boundaries. You watch people dodge responsibility, delay decisions, and detach from outcomes... all in the name of being "on the path."
And it gets heavy. Emotionally heavy. Because you recognize it. You’ve done it. I’ve done it. And now that we’ve peeled back a few layers, we can’t unsee it anymore.
Avoiding responsibility. Dodging commitment. Masking fear as discernment. Spiritualizing confusion. It’s painful to witness—because it mirrors parts of ourselves we’ve had to burn away.
But here’s the truth: We’re all just trying to feel safe.
And for many people, bypassing looks like safety. It feels gentler. Slower. Less disruptive. It gives you the illusion of control while never actually asking you to change.
But safety doesn’t come from bypassing. It comes from building.
Through integrity. Through ownership. Through actual choice.
Yes, we are fluid. Yes, we are ever-changing. But certain anchor moments are required to activate the realities we say we want.
It’s not in the waiting. It’s not in the circling. It’s in the micro and macro choices we make that our lives begin to take shape.
When you avoid decisions—when you abandon your own clarity—you prolong your pain. You deepen the disappointment. You stay longer in the ache of being misunderstood.
But there comes a point when even being misunderstood doesn’t sting anymore. Because you know who you are. You’ve chosen it. You’ve stood in it. And no one’s projection can move you from that inner ground.
I love us. Humans. All of us. Because at our core, we are still so scared. And still—so worthy of becoming.
So what if we gave ourselves permission to stop hiding our fear behind spiritual language? What if we were just honest about it?
What if instead of saying, "It’s not aligned," we said, "I’m scared." What if instead of saying, "I’m protecting my peace," we said, "I’m still healing from what hurt me last time."
Because that kind of honesty? That’s real spiritual growth. That’s not bypassing. That’s bravery.
Fear + love = bravery.
We don’t get to the other side by skipping steps. We get there by walking through them—clear-eyed, open-hearted, trembling sometimes—but rooted.
I command for a world where more of us take the leap: Into ownership. Into clarity. Into becoming.
Because the braver we are, the more we create a ripple for those who still need permission to feel what freedom actually looks like.
Let them feel it through us.
Let them remember who they are, because we remembered first.