Exposing The Spiritual Community

In recent years, I’ve felt a growing disconnect from the broader spiritual community. Don’t get me wrong—I’m deeply spiritual, and that core part of me hasn’t changed. But something shifted. I stopped listening to the popular podcasts, put down the best selling books, and stepped away from group discussions and meet ups.

Why? Because it all started to feel like the same script being read aloud by different voices, often without fresh insight or personal depth. Early in my spiritual awakening journey, I also found myself doing this, but eventually I realised I was just consuming everyone else’s interpretations instead of tuning into my own inner knowing. I do think it’s something most of us go through on this journey but the ones who’re truly doing the inner work eventually see through it all.

There’s absolutely nothing wrong with listening to podcasts or reading spiritual books—they can be incredibly helpful, especially early on. The key is to stay discerning: keep an open mind without letting yourself be too easily swayed or even brainwashed. We need to truly feel into what resonates for us personally.

The Shadow of Spiritual Ego

When I first stepped into some “spiritual” spaces, I was pretty naive. I genuinely thought everyone on this path would be authentic, kind, and just seeking like-minded souls. Turns out… not quite.

What hit me hardest was the spiritual ego. When I interacted with certain people, I could sense it—sometimes subtle, sometimes blatant: performative enlightenment, quiet one-upmanship, or just pure fakeness. It was the main reason I eventually stepped away.

None of us are completely free of ego, and honestly, I don’t think that’s even possible—or desirable. We need the ego; it’s part of being human. The real work is taming it, observing it with compassion instead of letting it run the show. (I wrote more about this in an older post: WTF Is The Ego & Why Do We Need It?)

That said, some of the most challenging people I’ve met have been those who loudly proclaim to be deeply spiritual. Sadly, this world can attract narcissistic types who use it to feel special or superior to others.

But on the flip side, I’ve also met some truly amazing, grounded souls here. This post isn’t meant to put anyone off the path—it’s a reminder to trust your own intuition above all. Don’t put people on a pedestal just because they seem more “enlightened.” None of us are perfect, even if some act like they are.

Keep your discernment sharp, your heart open, and your own inner knowing front and centre. That’s where the real magic happens.

Age Doesn’t Equal Wisdom: The Quiet Sting of Being Dismissed

There’s something deeply disrespectful about the way some older people judge me purely based on my age.

I’m 33. By most standards, that’s solidly adult. Yet in some spiritual circles, or casual conversations with those further along in years, the moment I speak, I can feel the tiny blink of surprise when actual insight falls out of my mouth. As if depth couldn’t possibly live in someone who doesn’t have grey hair or decades of “life experience” stacked behind them.

Here’s what they don’t see: I’ve been through hell since I was a child. I’ve done more relentless inner digging, more raw healing, more shadow work than many people twice my age ever attempt. My path hasn’t been gentle. It’s been forged in fire, therapy rooms, somatic sessions, sleepless nights, and the kind of self-honesty that strips you bare. And I’ve turned that into a lived practice—helping others release what’s been stored in their bodies for years.

Still, the assumption lingers: young = beginner. Young = needs guidance. Young = hasn’t earned the right to speak with authority.

It happens loudest with older folks on the spiritual path (not all but a lot). The irony cuts deep. They speak of enlightenment, ego transcendence, and compassion… while their own ego sits front and centre, quietly deciding that wisdom must wear wrinkles to be valid.

I get it—I’m human. These moments trigger the part of me that’s spent a lifetime feeling unseen, unheard, or underestimated. My ego takes a hit, yes. And when it happens repeatedly, it does wear you down. I’m working on not letting it land so heavily, on breathing through the irritation instead of letting it harden into resentment.

But let’s be clear: this isn’t just about my feelings. It’s about a wider blindness. Age is not a reliable measure of wisdom. Wisdom is earned through surrender, through facing what most people run from, through the quiet accumulation of truth lived—not years survived.

So if you’re younger and find yourself in these spaces, feeling that familiar diminishment—know this: your depth is real, even if they can’t see it yet. Your voice carries weight because of what you’ve walked through, not because of how many calendars you’ve flipped.

And if you’re older and reading this—pause before you assume. The next person who speaks might already know more than they’re letting on. They might just be kind enough not to correct you.

I’ll keep showing up with what I’ve earned in my bones, not my birth year. Because real wisdom doesn’t need permission from time.

To add — I'm not saying that every older person on the spiritual path is like this — they're definitely not! All of my friends are older than me, but these are those rare souls that I have been lucky to encounter. You know who you are! <3

The Courage to Walk Your Own Path

Stepping away doesn’t mean abandoning spirituality—it means reclaiming it. True growth often happens in solitude, away from the crowd. When we stop parroting popular ideas and start listening to what resonates personally, something authentic emerges.

I’ve found more depth in solitude, and in practices that I have naturally been drawn to rather than any trending teaching. Walking in nature with no agenda and noticing what thoughts arise naturally. Asking myself hard questions without rushing to someone else’s answer.

This solitary approach can feel lonely at first. The spiritual community offers belonging, shared language, and validation. Leaving that behind means trusting your own compass, even when it points in a direction no one else is going.

But here’s the beauty: authenticity attracts authenticity. When you honor your unique path, you naturally draw in connections that feel real and reciprocal—fewer, perhaps, but deeper.

Trusting the Quiet Knowing

Ultimately, spirituality isn’t about belonging to the right group or mastering the trending concepts. It’s about cultivating a relationship with your own inner light—the quiet knowing that doesn’t need external validation.

If you’re feeling the same right now, that’s okay. It might be inviting you deeper inward. Trust that. Your path doesn’t have to look like anyone else’s to be valid.

In the stillness, you’ll find what you’ve been seeking all along: a spirituality that’s truly, unapologetically yours.

Let me know your thoughts on this.  

Carlee x