Beyond Comfortable Spirituality
Like generations before us, we're living through profound upheaval that’s both collective and personal. As I write this, I'm thinking of the genocide in Gaza, the wars in Sudan and Ukraine, environmental destruction, and the fractured state of the country where I live.
It’s times like these when I lean more deeply into my spiritual practices. In doing so, I’m diving into some complicated feelings and ideas. Here’s an example, I live in the United States on what Indigenous peoples call Turtle Island, land seized through systematic oppression and genocide. Adding nuance to this, within my own lineage, I carry both the oppressed and the oppressor. This has ignited a growing sense of responsibility to understand what this means for healing, restorative justice, and the work that lies ahead.
I carry Scottish and British heritage (among others) in my lineage, which reveals how the wounds of oppression travel through time, how the oppressed become the oppressor. My Scottish ancestors (from my father’s mother’s line) knew what it meant to have their culture suppressed, their language forbidden, their land seized by English colonizers. They held that trauma in their flesh and bones, transmitting it through bloodlines alongside both survival instincts and hard-won resilience.
But when they came to Turtle Island, they also carried the colonizer's playbook. The same mechanisms that had been used against them (erasure of culture, theft of land, systematic violence) they now enacted against the Indigenous peoples of Turtle Island. The oppressed became the oppressor, trauma became a weapon, and survival strategies became systems of domination.
Today, here I am, a white woman in the wellness industry, living on stolen land, building my life and business on the very foundations of that violence. I've inherited both the wounds and the benefits, the trauma and the privilege. I can trace the line from Scottish Highlands to American suburbs, from cultural erasure to cultural appropriation, from deprivation to possessing what was never mine to take.
But this isn't about guilt. That mindset keeps us stuck in our own feelings rather than focused on change. This is about responsibility. What do I do with this knowledge?
I talk about it. I name it. I refuse to let spiritual bypassing or wellness culture's obsession with "good vibes only" keep me from grappling with these truths. I use my small platform, my privilege, my voice to connect historical violence with present-day genocide. I make the links visible. For example, the same settler colonial logic that created this country is what's happening in Palestine right now.
I study how trauma moves through generations and how healing must too. I learn from Indigenous teachers and Palestinian voices. I redirect my resources toward reparations and resistance. I teach others to do the same, imperfectly, knowing I'll falter and fail, but also knowing I'll get back up and keep trying.
I do all this because the cycle doesn't break with silence or spiritual bypassing. It breaks when those of us who've inherited both wounds and privilege choose to transform that inheritance into something that serves justice rather than perpetuating harm.
The wounds travel through time, yes. But so does the possibility of healing—if we're brave enough to do the work.
Transforming Anguish into Action
When the weight of witnessing such suffering feels overwhelming, it's important to remember that feeling hopeless doesn't mean you're powerless, it often means you're fully grasping the gravity of what's happening.
Channel that anguish into sustained action, even small ones. Support humanitarian organizations providing aid. Contact your representatives regularly, not just once. Share credible information and Palestinian voices when others might prefer to look away. Show up to vigils, protests, or community discussions. Boycott companies that profit from occupation. These actions may feel inadequate against such massive injustice, fair enough. That said, we have to remember that they are part of the greater landscape of resistance.
Connect with others who share your values—isolation amplifies despair, while community sustains action. Take care of your mental health too; burning out serves no one. Some days you'll need to step back to preserve your capacity for the long haul this will require.
Remember that throughout history, seemingly insurmountable systems of oppression have eventually fallen when enough people refused to accept them as normal. Your witness matters. Your voice matters. The fact that you feel this weight means you haven't lost your humanity in a world that often demands we do.
The goal isn't to cure your heartbreak. Instead, there’s an invitation to deepen your commitment to justice. These times are not asking us to love less—they're demanding we love more fiercely, more courageously, more truthfully than we ever thought possible.
If your spiritual practice doesn't involve bearing witness to suffering and working for justice, is it even a spiritual practice? If your teachers, coaches, and mentors aren't talking about these things, aren't helping you grapple with the moral crises of our time, can you even trust them to guide your growth?
Real spiritual work isn't about transcending the world's pain. It's about developing the courage and compassion to face it. Any practice that teaches you to bypass injustice in favor of personal peace is spiritual materialism, not transformation. Additionally, any mentor who stays silent while genocide unfolds is teaching you that comfort matters more than conscience.
The teachers worth following are the ones who help you integrate your values with your actions, who challenge you to grow not just inwardly but outwardly into someone who shows up for the most vulnerable. They're the ones asking: How does your healing serve the world's healing? How does your privilege become a tool for liberation?
If the people guiding you can't handle these questions, if they retreat into "staying positive" or "avoiding politics"—they're not equipped to mentor anyone toward genuine wholeness. Find teachers who understand that spiritual maturity means wrestling with the darkness, not pretending it doesn't exist.
Journal Prompts For Your Spiritual Practice:
On Witness and Responsibility:
What does it mean to truly "see" suffering that's happening far from you? How do you distinguish between witnessing and consuming trauma?
When you feel overwhelmed by injustice, what stories do you tell yourself? Do these stories serve your growth or your avoidance?
How has your awareness of suffering changed you? What would it mean to let it change you more?
On Spiritual Practice:
Where in your spiritual life do you seek comfort versus transformation? What would it look like to choose growth over ease?
How does your practice prepare you to face the world's darkness rather than escape from it?
What does "holding space" actually mean when people are being systematically killed? How do you balance inner work with outer action?
On Mentorship and Trust:
Think of the teachers/mentors who have shaped you. How did they handle (or avoid) the moral crises of their time? What does this tell you about their guidance?
What qualities do you want in someone who guides your growth? How important is it that they share your values about justice?
If you're in a teaching/mentoring role yourself, what are you modeling about how to engage with suffering and injustice?
On Action and Overwhelm:
What's one small action you can take today that aligns your values with your behavior?
How do you want to be remembered for how you responded to this moment in history?
What would it look like to sustain your engagement with this issue for months or years, not just weeks?
I Would Love To Hear From You
How are you grappling with these questions in your own practice and lineage? What's helping you transform anguish into sustained action? Share your reflections in the comments! This work is meant to be done in community, not isolation.
Resources and Action
For immediate humanitarian support, visit rescue.org to learn about IRC's emergency response efforts in Gaza and other crisis zones worldwide.
Other reputable organizations doing critical work:
Doctors Without Borders (doctorswithoutborders.org) - Medical aid in conflict zones
UNRWA USA (unrwausa.org) - Supporting Palestinian refugees
If you know of other reputable organizations doing good work, please share!