Not a Title, But an (un)Tether

In quiet corners of the world, two words dance—
Spirituality and religion—entwined at first glance.
But look again. Listen deeper.
These are not the same song.

Religion may offer rhythm—rules, rituals, robes.
It builds homes of belief, bricks of scripture,
and sometimes, walls too high to climb.
It points the way.
Spirituality becomes the way.

One guards the gate; the other says:
“There is no gate. You are already in.”

Some have turned from religion,
weary of rigid lines and borrowed truths,
fearing that without it, there’s no sacredness left.
But spirituality whispers—not so.
It lives in the raw and the real.
In the space between heartbeats.
In the ache and the arrival.

It is not tied to titles.
It does not ask for costumes.
It does not seek to be performed.
You do not need to become the spiritual one,
the goddess, the guru, the golden child.

You just need to become honest.

Because the most sacred moments I've known
were never the ones I staged,
but the ones I let pass through me—
unclenched, uncaptioned, unnamed.

God is not confined to one path.
He is the wild river running through all of them—
the sacred and the profane,
the broken and the brave,
the doubting and the divine.

He does not care for your curated light.
He is not impressed by spiritual resumes.
He is not asking you to “be more spiritual.”
He is asking you to be more connected.

To remember what you were
before the labels, before the shame,
before the need to protect your glow
from a world that didn’t understand your shine.

When we cling to identity—
even the “holy” ones—
we harden the flow.
We begin to block the channel.
We forget that the sacred
was never something we had to earn.

It was always here.
It is here.
In the breath.
And the next.

So know the difference, hold it dear:
Religion may guide.
But spirituality grows wings.

It is not a performance.
It is presence.
It is the quiet truth pulsing beneath every moment:
You were always worthy of the divine—
just as you are.