For a long time, I talked about my spiritual life as a journey.

I could describe where I started, what I believed then, and how different things looked later on. In many ways, that language made sense. It gave shape to the changes I was noticing. Still, the more I sit with it, the more I wonder whether the idea of a “spiritual journey” might be one of the most convincing—and persistent—misunderstandings in spirituality.

There’s a story in the Christian scriptures where a wealthy man asks Jesus what he needs to do to follow him. Jesus tells him to give away his possessions, and the man walks away, unable to let go. I used to read that story only in material terms. Now it strikes me that what many of us struggle to release isn’t money or belongings, but the identity built around seeking itself.

The idea of being “on a journey” can become something we cling to. It gives us a sense of progress, purpose, and direction. It reassures us that something important is happening. And to be honest, I enjoyed that feeling for a long time. My spiritual journey felt meaningful. It gave me a story about who I was and where I was headed.

But over time, that story began to feel a little thin.

When I look closely, spiritual life doesn’t seem to be about going somewhere or becoming someone new. It doesn’t feel like an accumulation of insight, purity, or improvement. Many teachings are framed that way, and they can be helpful for a while. Still, there comes a point where the idea of progress itself starts to fall apart.

You can’t really become more spiritual. Whatever we’re pointing to with words like Spirit, God, or awareness doesn’t increase or decrease. It isn’t something we acquire. It’s already complete. In that sense, the language of growth and attainment only works up to a point.

I sometimes think of it like opening the curtains in a dark room. When sunlight fills the space, it can feel as though something new has arrived. But nothing was added. The light was already there. All that changed was what was blocking it. In the same way, what feels like spiritual movement is often just the gradual removal of assumptions, beliefs, and misunderstandings that once obscured what’s already present.

That doesn’t mean spiritual practices are useless. Life has a way of pulling attention outward and scattering it. Practices can help us return, again and again, to what’s here beneath the noise. They just don’t take us anywhere.

Seen this way, the “journey” becomes less about arrival and more about remembering. Less about achieving and more about noticing. And when that shift happens, there’s often a surprising sense of relief. Nothing needs to be added. Nothing is missing. Nothing has to be earned.

Keeping that in mind—especially when the mind starts reaching for the next step, the next insight, the next version of ourselves—may be the simplest and most honest form of spiritual practice there is.

Summary:

The article challenges the widely accepted notion of the “spiritual journey,” arguing that it is an illusion. Spirituality is not about progress, self-improvement, or gaining anything—it’s about realizing what is already present. The idea of a journey fuels religious and spiritual industries, but true spirituality is about recognizing that there is nowhere to go and nothing to attain.

Main Points:

  1. The Spiritual Journey Is an Illusion – There is no real progression or transformation in spirituality; it’s about recognizing what has always been present.
  2. Seeking and Self-Improvement Are Unnecessary – Efforts to become more spiritual or to “attain” something spiritually are misguided because spirit is already infinite and complete.
  3. True Spirituality Is Realization, Not Attainment – Just as removing curtains reveals existing sunlight, awakening is simply becoming aware of what is already within.

Key Questions:

  1. Why is the concept of a spiritual journey an illusion?
  2. How does the idea of progress fuel the spiritual and religious industry?
  3. What is the difference between seeking spirituality and realizing it?
  4. If there is no journey, what is the purpose of spiritual practices?
  5. How can we remain aware of our inherent spiritual completeness?