What’s Really Keeping You Stuck (It’s Not the Spiritual Practice)

You will only grow physically, emotionally, and energetically, as far as your beliefs will allow.

That’s something I find myself repeating often in sessions, especially when clients are frustrated with their lack of progress, even after years of spiritual “work.” But what they don’t yet realize is that their beliefs, not their tools, are doing most of the work. And in many cases, those beliefs are old, inherited, and unconsciously preserved—even when the outer expression looks evolved.

We live in a time where self-definition is not only accepted but expected—gender, pronouns, spiritual orientation, religious detachment, chosen family. The cultural tone is one of inclusivity and exceptionalism. And while this is a welcome shift in many ways, it also gives the illusion that inner beliefs have evolved at the same pace as outer identity.

But that’s rarely the case.

Emotional maturity and the ache underneath

Many of my clients are what I’d call late bloomers, not in intellect or education (most are highly accomplished), but in the emotional and relational maturity that often comes from sustained connection. Some are approaching 40 having only experienced one significant romantic relationship. Many struggle to maintain consistent friendships. And often, they unconsciously place heavy emotional demands on platonic relationships that mimic romantic ones. Typically this is achieved through gift giving, constant communication, and an unspoken desire to be chosen.

What’s happening beneath all of this is a deep, unspoken ache. One that’s rarely addressed head-on because it’s entangled with generational narratives around mental health, medication, diagnosis, and what it means to be “functional.” Anxiety and depression are common, but rather than explore clinical or therapeutic paths which may feel taboo or like betrayal, they turn to spirituality. It feels safer. More noble. More in line with the image they want to hold.

But here’s the catch: without the courage to truly pivot, without challenging the beliefs they’ve inherited and the permissions they’re still unconsciously seeking, spiritual practice becomes another mask. Another identity. Another distraction.

And in this space of half-truths and borrowed language, they often project their permission-seeking onto intuitive guidance. Hoping to be told what they already know, but don’t yet feel safe enough to claim.

The myth of more: clarity vs accumulation

One of the hardest truths to accept on this path is that clarity doesn’t come from accumulation. More readings, more rituals, more certifications, more community memberships won’t move the needle if your baseline belief is still rooted in fear, performance, or unworthiness.

Most people aren’t resisting the practice, they’re resisting the cost of becoming. The truth is, they want guidance to sound like comfort. They want healing to affirm who they already are. They want evolution without grief. And so they intellectualize the journey, skipping over the parts that ask for surrender.

In this way, spiritual exploration becomes a kind of spiritual bypass. It feels like movement, but really it’s just circling the same internal narrative, that they can’t truly change until someone else says it’s okay.

That “someone” might look like a coach, a reader, a therapist, or a community. But more often than not, it’s the ghost of a parent, an elder, a culture that shaped their sense of worth long before they had the words for it. And until that internal tether is cut, all the candles, charts, and chakras in the world will be ornamental.

When I speak to clients about belief, I’m not asking them to adopt mine. I’m inviting them to ask, What do I still need to believe in order to feel safe in the version of me I’ve outgrown?

Because that’s usually the loop they’re in: tethered to safety, terrified of becoming unsafe in front of others, especially those they subconsciously believe they still need approval from.

And what’s most heartbreaking is that many don’t realize they’ve already wasted a decade or more pretending to be further along than they are. Not because they’re fake. But because the tools they’ve reached for haven’t gone deep enough to confront the part of them that is still loyal to the original script.

Spirituality is not broken

This is what’s often missed:

Spirituality is not broken. It never has been. It is, in fact, the last ancient thing we have. It is the root system beneath all systems that are still intact, still breathing, still ready to meet us at the depth we’re willing to go. What’s distorted is the self-perception we bring to it. The fractured lens we look through. The way we overlay modern insecurities, colonized expectations, and undiagnosed mental fragmentation onto something that was never meant to perform for us, but to return us to ourselves.

Are you accessing spirituality through your wound or your wisdom?

When clients tell me that spirituality feels inaccessible, I ask them: Are you trying to access it through your wound or through your wisdom?

Because true spiritual work can’t be done in performance mode. It can’t be filtered through self-doubt or left in the hands of a culture that equates spirituality with trend or aesthetic. It demands cognition. It demands critical thinking. It demands that we unlearn how the modern world has taught us to consume everything, even our own evolution.

Spirituality is intuitive, yes. But not in the “vibe” sense that social media sells. It is intuitive because it belongs to the most natural version of us. The version that existed before modern systems told us who we were supposed to be. The one that already knew how to commune, how to observe, how to align with the mystery of time and space.

So no, it’s not about reintroducing a few lost rituals and hoping they’ll fix what’s broken. It’s about giving yourself permission to detach from the modern world’s assumptions: about identity, productivity, medicine, connection, and value.

Colonization didn’t just steal land and language. It colonized our attention, our sense of time, our instinct to heal through relationships with the invisible. Reclaiming spirituality isn’t ever a feel-good journey. It’s an act of resistance. It’s a remembering of who you were before your inner world was edited by systems that had no idea how to hold your soul.

When the guide becomes the scapegoat

In session, the most uncomfortable moment is never when I offer a hard truth. It’s when I ask a simple question: What do you believe about yourself?

That’s when the silence begins.

Not because they’re unwilling to share, but because they genuinely don’t know. The words don’t come. The mind goes blank. They shift in their seat, reach for a deeper “tool,” or ask if I can just “look it up” for them.

It’s not clarity they’re seeking, it’s escape.

And in that moment, the projection begins. The burden of knowing is pushed onto the guide, the reader, the coach, the container. I’ve had clients say (sometimes gently, sometimes abrasively) “I thought you were going to give me more. I need more. This isn’t enough.”

But it’s not that the guidance isn’t enough. It’s that the guidance is starting to point inward. It’s highlighting the part of them they don’t want to meet.

Because to accept that you are the center of your own reality, to see that you are the common thread in every pattern, every disappointment, every moment of disconnection, requires an emotional bravery most people are never taught.

And when someone has spent years avoiding their own reflection through achievement, intellectualization, perfectionism, or even spiritual practice, being asked to locate themselves in the story of their own life can feel like an attack.

So denial steps in.

The logic tells them: This can’t be about me. I’ve tried everything. The ego whispers: Nothing is broken. This guide just doesn’t get it.

But the deeper self, the one that finally breaks through the noise and says the quiet things:

“I don’t trust my feelings.”
“I just want someone to validate what I know.”

Emotional courage is where the work begins

And that’s where the inner reckoning begins.

Not in what they think they need next, but in what they’ve been unwilling to accept: That healing won’t give you your dream life if you refuse to come home to yourself. That clarity doesn’t arrive in the form of tools, it arrives in the moment you stop arguing with the truth. That you are not broken, but your perception may be and until you address that, everything you touch, even sacred things, will become distorted by your inability to see yourself clearly.

Emotional courage isn’t loud or dramatic. It’s the quiet decision to stop running from yourself. It shows up when you resist the urge to seek another tool, another answer, another guide to make the discomfort go away, and instead ask: What am I refusing to see about me?

That question is the beginning of everything. Because no matter how many tools you collect, if you won’t face yourself, you’ll keep circling the same truth.

The work begins the moment you stop looking outside and decide: I’m ready to trust what’s already within me… even if I’m still learning how.

It’s a time to listen deeply; to your heart, your intuition, and the stories your mind keeps replaying. If you’re ready to move beyond old emotional patterns and gain clear, soul-aligned guidance, join me for an Akashic Records session or intuitive coaching. Let’s uncover what your inner world is trying to tell you, and step into clarity with courage and compassion. Book your session today and start trusting your inner voice like never before.