Spirituality isnt the answer
The world is so bloody messy these days. Trump has ripped up decades old global political alliances. There are wars still going on (!) in 2026. The climate is fucked. And we seem to be spending all our money on AI chips and data centres.
I mean, against that background, what the hell should you believe in? Is there any rock of stability left?
The tide is coming in fast and we need something to stand on. And when people feel out of their depth, they reach for something steady.
That’s why there seems to be a rush towards spirituality. Every podcast, every newspaper (if anyone still reads them), every coffee shop chat seems to involve talk of a higher power, mystical story-telling, and an invisible human connection.
It's not always the incense-and-crystals version either. Sometimes it’s “manifestation” and "breathwork". Sometimes it’s astrology dressed up as psychology, or a vague belief in “the universe” that conveniently agrees with whatever you already want to be true.
You know. Stuff that's basically bollocks.
It’s everywhere these days. Precisely because it does something powerful: it makes chaos feel like a story.
And humans love a story.
The Comfort of a Higher Plan
Spirituality, at its best, offers a kind of emotional scaffolding. It gives you a belief that this all means something. That there’s a plan.
Which is lovely, honestly. I get it. If the news feels like a horror film and your job feels like a roulette wheel, believing in a higher power can feel like grabbing onto a handrail.
But I can’t shake the feeling that most of it is just a coping mechanism. And deep down, I think most people know it. They don’t believe believe. They want to believe.
There’s a difference.
We're Animals (And That’s Not an Insult)
We’re animals.
Very clever animals, yes. We wear shoes and invent tax codes and build very tall buildings. But at our core, we’re still running old software: survive, reproduce, belong, avoid pain, die.
That’s the engine. Spirituality often offers a more flattering explanation. Where there's a cosmic purpose. Where your life is part of a grand design rather than a short biological sprint (with occasional joy).
And it easy to see why we prefer that version. Because the animal version comes with a terrifying implication: maybe a lot of what we do doesn’t matter, or at least it doesn’t matter in the way we want it to.
You know, maybe there isn’t a scoreboard. Maybe there isn’t a judge. Maybe the universe isn’t watching. Maybe there’s no hidden meaning?
Maybe you live, you love, you try, you die, and then you’re done.
That finality scares people. So we look for a different story.
Spirituality Is Having a Moment
I don’t think the rise in spirituality is about enlightenment. I think it’s about anxiety management.
Because if you can convince yourself that there’s a higher power connecting us all, then the world stops being random. It becomes guided. Even the painful parts become “lessons.” Even the chaos becomes “growth.”
It’s a neat psychological trick, and it works. But it comes with a cost: it can turn you away from reality, and (fun fact) reality is the only place you can actually live.
When you outsource meaning to a higher power, you risk doing two things.
- First, you dull the urgency of life. If there’s eternity, then today isn’t that important.
- Second, you avoid the hard work of making meaning yourself. Meaning becomes something you receive, not something you build.
And building meaning is hard. It takes effort. It requires choice. It involves discomfort. It means admitting you don’t know.
It’s much easier to buy a framework.
“If This Is All There Is, Then What’s The Point?”
This is the question lurking behind a lot of modern behaviour.
It sits underneath the productivity obsession, the wellness industrial complex, the constant self-optimising, the hustle, the identity-building, the endless consumption of advice. Because if life is finite, then you start to ask dangerous questions.
Why am I doing this job? Why am I chasing this status? Why am I spending my one wild life in meetings that make me feel dead? Why am I scrolling through other people’s lives instead of living mine?
Those questions can destabilise everything. So instead, we reach for comfort. We reach for the idea that someone else has written the script.
That’s soothing.
It also keeps you passive.
A More Honest Alternative
What if we stopped trying to escape the finality and instead let it shape what we do today?
If this is your one shot, your one opportunity (thanks, Eminem), then your time becomes more precious, not less. The point isn’t to collapse into nihilism. The point is to stop sleepwalking towards death.
Because “nothing matters” isn’t the conclusion. The better conclusion is this: big cosmic meaning might not exist, so we have to make local meaning.
And local meaning is real. It’s tangible. It’s human-sized. It doesn’t require faith in invisible forces.
Local meaning looks like being kind when you could be indifferent.
It looks like building something that helps people.
It means telling the truth more often.
It means creating art because it moves you, not because it might make you some money.
It looks like having dinner with friends and actually being there.
It looks like taking your kid to the park and leaving your phone in your pocket.
It looks like making someone feel less alone.
No angels required.
A Community-Shaped Hole?
I don’t think people are craving spirituality because they’ve suddenly become more mystical. I think they’re craving it because they’re lonely.
Modern life has stripped out a lot of the structures that used to give people belonging: local community, extended family, stable work, shared rituals, third places, clubs, religion.
And we didn’t replace those things with anything robust.
We replaced them with feeds. We replaced them with “content.” We replaced them with 'parasocial' relationships and online tribes and hot takes.
So people reach for spirituality because it offers community and a story. But you don’t need the story to get the community.
You can build community without myth. You can have awe without superstition. You can have meaning without pretending there’s a cosmic plan.
You can look at the night sky, feel the scale of it, and still say: I don’t know what this all is, but I’m here, and so are you, and that matters.
That’s enough.
Choose Reality
Here’s my pitch, and it’s not particularly glamorous: choose reality.
Not the cold, bleak version. The alive version.
Reality includes love, laughter, music, beauty, friendship, food, creativity, long walks, warm conversations, shared jokes, stupid moments, deep moments, the feeling of being seen. Reality also includes suffering and loss and unfairness and fear.
Spirituality sometimes tries to smooth those edges by wrapping them in meaning. I’d rather not. I’d rather feel the edges and let them wake me up.
Because when you stop believing you’re protected by a higher power, you start acting like your choices matter. Because they do.
So What?
If you’ve been tempted to hide inside myth because the world feels too big, here are a few practical ideas:
Replace “spiritual” practices with human practices
If meditation helps, meditate. Great. Just don’t pretend it connects you to some cosmic truth. Use it as attention training, nervous system regulation, or even just a moment of quiet.
Build meaning through people, not theories
Call someone. Meet someone. Join something. Make plans and keep them. The antidote to existential dread is rarely a philosophy. It’s usually a person.
Make something
Write. Cook. Build. Draw. Sing. Fix. Plant. Start. Not because it will last forever, but because it exists now and changes you now.
If you’re going to believe in something, believe in something you can touch. Decency. Friendship. Service. Craft. Curiosity. Love.
Those are real.
If we’re just animals, fine. But let’s be good animals. Let’s make the most of the brief, weird miracle of us all being here, together.
Until next time,
Jon "If I was to be any animal, I think I'd choose to be a labrador" Kaye
Choosing to live more deliberately