The Divine Irony of Spiritual Appropriation

There’s a certain irony in the modern spiritual awakening movement. You’ve seen it—perhaps at the local yoga studio or meditation retreat. There they are, perched on mats handwoven by artisans from a land they couldn’t locate on a map, chanting mantras whose meanings they’ve never cared to learn, all while clutching crystals harvested under conditions they’d prefer not to discuss. These are the sacred spaces spoiled by privilege, where the quest for enlightenment looks suspiciously like a vacation itinerary: Bali, Sedona, Goa.

But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. This story begins with good intentions—or so they claim.

Once Upon a Mala Bead

It’s a tale as old as time. A disenchanted soul, fatigued by the capitalist grind and a lifetime of unexamined privilege, seeks meaning. They’re tired of brunch and box stores. Yoga, they hear, is the answer. But why stop at yoga? Why not dabble in reiki, Ayurveda, and tarot while wearing kimonos and henna tattoos? Let’s not forget the sage bundles and dreamcatchers; authenticity isn’t complete without an aesthetic.

The problem isn’t the search for meaning. It’s the lack of respect for the cultures that built these practices. Indigenous and marginalized communities, from which these rituals originate, are often excluded from the conversation. Their histories are erased, their traditions commodified, their struggles ignored.

The Mask of Spiritual Enlightenment

In these spaces, privilege is cloaked in good vibes and incense smoke. The participants? Well, they consider themselves progressive, inclusive, and conscious. They might even say woke. But it’s amazing how often their self-awareness ends where their privilege begins.

Here’s the kicker: many of these spiritual tourists seem utterly unaware of how the systems they benefit from oppress the very communities they borrow from. It’s hard to preach about karma when you won’t address the colonial histories that shaped the world you live in. It’s difficult to embody compassion when you silence voices asking for accountability.

What emerges is an unsettling duality. These seekers want the wisdom of other cultures but balk at their histories. They crave connection while building walls. They chant “Om” but remain deaf to the cries for justice.

A Divine Wake-Up Call

Now, let’s disarm with some perspective. This isn’t about gatekeeping spirituality. It’s about reclaiming its integrity. Spirituality isn’t an accessory. It’s a way of life, often rooted in resilience, survival, and ancestral wisdom. For Black Americans, Indigenous peoples, and other marginalized communities, these practices are not hobbies; they’re lifelines.

When those in privilege treat these traditions as commodities, they dilute their power. Imagine a stranger walking into your home, rearranging your furniture, and declaring it better that way. That’s what appropriation feels like.

So, What’s a Well-Meaning Seeker to Do?

Here’s where the alarm bells should ring, loud and clear: It’s time to examine your intentions. Ask yourself:

• Am I engaging with this practice to grow, or is it just a trend?

• Do I understand its cultural context, or am I cherry-picking what looks cool on Instagram?

• Am I giving back to the communities that created this tradition, or am I profiting from their labor without acknowledgment?

True spiritual growth isn’t about acquiring; it’s about surrendering. It’s about listening, learning, and letting go of ego.

A Path Forward: The Sacred and the Real

To the authentic seekers reading this: we see you. Your work is to go deeper, to honor the roots of your practices and the people who watered them with their sacrifices.

To the appropriators: there’s still hope for you yet. Enlightenment isn’t found in the accumulation of rituals but in their embodiment. Perhaps it’s time to stop collecting and start connecting. Read the histories. Pay reparations. Uplift the voices of those whose traditions you borrow. And maybe, just maybe, set down the sage stick until you’ve cleansed your own conscience.

Conclusion: Light the Fire Within

To those reading this who recognize themselves in these words: it’s not too late to change. Privilege can be a blinder, but it can also be a tool. Use it wisely. Create spaces where integrity thrives, where traditions are respected, and where every mantra you chant carries the weight of its meaning.

And for the rest of us, the keepers of authentic traditions: Keep your fire burning bright. It’s not the smoke that matters but the light that shines through.

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