The notion of spiritual narcissism isn’t a new one. However, like the rare prevalence of narcissistic personality disorder (NPD), I assumed spiritual narcissism was rare too — saved for cult leaders, self-proclaimed ‘gurus’ or televangelists.

I suppose some ‘aha!’ moments dawn on us gently. They rouse us into epiphanies or pluck at our synapses like a cherub playing the harp.

Mine was less gentle.

For a long time, I’ve been wondering why I get the ‘ick’ factor when it comes to certain types of spirituality. As someone who enjoys yoga, thinks crystals and candles are lovely, and believes in the healing power of a bubble bath, I’m by no means anti-woo-woo. However, there are some fully immersed woo-woo practitioners who make the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end (ready to stab them, I assume).

And then I read something that slammed the aha! moment into my open-mouthed face.

“I first got into healing work after losing my mom to cancer in 2018 and recognizing that her illness was caused by holding onto childhood trauma that she never processed and ended up manifesting into a terminal disease.” – Person I won’t name and shame.

Without getting into the numerous reasons this sentence is problematic, what confounded my oh-please-don’t-let-this-be-real prayer was the fact this person sells ‘healing services’ to those seeking support. This includes ‘guiding’ them through psilocybin mushroom trips without any qualifications or training. Although early studies have shown promise when it comes to treating anxiety disorders and depression using hallucinogens, the research is based on a small sample group with poor minority representation[1].

So, there’s a person in the world who believes their mother got cancer because she didn’t manage her mental health well enough. This belief is why she now charges unsuspecting victims people for her ‘guidance’ while they trip balls during unregulated methods of trauma work.

What could possibly go wrong?

I’m not sure what the bigger tragedy is: blaming a parent for dying from an incurable disease or believing that unresolved trauma causes the disease in the first place. You might as well say, ‘Hello to all the abuse victims out there. Just an FYI that you need to sort out the irrevocable changes that occur when you suffer any kind of trauma; otherwise, you’re probs going to get cancer.’

Ridiculous, isn’t it? 

The root of spiritual narcissism 

And yet, this attitude isn’t uncommon. The rise of spiritual narcissism is its own cancer, and it preys on vulnerable people who are looking for meaning in the wake of a tragedy. In doing so, it robs people of their chance to fully process and heal.

We’ve all felt like we need simple solutions to complicated problems before, be it physical or mental. My own mental health journey has led me down some, shall we say, interesting paths that I hoped offered an instant cure (and didn’t). It’s much nicer to blame the universe, the unresolved trauma, and even the person who died than recognise the world we live in is a chaotic, confusing, and unforgiving place. It’s much easier to believe that the people who didn’t make it through life unscathed ‘did it wrong’ or ‘brought it on themselves.’ Because that way, it can’t happen to us, right? If there’s a reason and meaning for every bad thing that happens, we can try to avoid that bad thing coming our way.

And that’s the root of spiritual narcissism. It discards the notion that the life we’ve led, the environment we’ve been raised in, the support we’ve been offered, and the ability to accept that support have all contributed to where we’ve ended up. It tells us we’ve done it all wrong and there’s a better, more profound existence waiting for us, if only we could see how where we are right now isn’t good enough.

It discards real-life limitations and judges people for not living properly. “Just do it my way,” it says, “and then you’ll be cured.”

The self-improvement paradox

Personal development and self-improvement are worthy goals, and when approached in a way that’s purely introspective, are incredibly beneficial. However, in the pursuit of spiritual enlightenment, we risk inflating our egos instead.  

The ego loves to be seen in a positive light[2], and spiritual practice offers everything our egos need to feel superior. With grandiose words like enlightenment; higher self; self-improvement; transcendence; higher purpose; awakening, and divinity, what’s not to get on board with? The fact that some practices refer to their practitioners as ‘goddesses’ and ‘kings’ only bolsters the belief that those seeking enlightenment are special in some way. And, of course, it’s lovely feeling special, isn’t it?

Sadly, what a lot of practitioners seem to forget is the goal of spiritual practice, which is to cultivate compassion, concern, and positive regard for our fellow human beings. It’s supposed to curate an equilibrium, not leave people behind. Instead, we see people measuring their ‘self-improvement’ by how well they’re engaging with the practices meant to trigger their spiritual awakening. For example, whether they can get their feet on the floor during downward dog or whether their reiki session healed an emotional wound.

This tangible, measurable progress is comforting because it tells us we’re improving. It’s the same high that going to the gym or getting 8-hours of sleep gives us. We know we’re doing something good for our well-being and therefore feel better.

However, despite it being positive, it’s still self-centric.

Studies show that instead of yoga and meditation ‘quietening the ego,’ they instead boost self-esteem and wellbeing[3]. “That doesn’t sound so bad,” I hear you say. And of course not. However, the boost comes from how the practices benefit our self-image[4], which is indicative of spiritual narcissism. For example, if yoga really worked the way it’s supposed to, there wouldn’t be over 98 million photos of people practising it on Instagram.

Put bluntly, when people feel superior, they feel better. It’s why comparison is the thief of joy and jealousy permeates the world of online one-upmanship.

“Simply stated, spiritual narcissism is the unconscious use of spiritual practice and insight to increase rather than decrease self-importance.” — Gerald May.

The ‘evil agenda’

This egocentric need to be better than others isn’t confined to spirituality, either. We also saw it playing out during the Covid-19 pandemic, where somewhat ironically, a ‘truth seeking’ movement talked about an evil agenda that ‘light workers’ needed to come together to fight. Being privy to information others are ‘too asleep’ to recognise and proudly pushing (again ironically) ‘woke’ and ‘anti-sheeple’ propaganda, they felt like they were in on something profound and special, without realising how buying into such a narrative was paradoxical.

Of course, the reality behind all these kinds of movements is fear. The need to blame trauma victims for their cancer and the need to blame an evil agenda for a pandemic are two sides of the same coin.

The toxic positivity trap

Another example of real-world spiritual narcissism is the toxic positivity trap. Instead of facing our issues and working through our valid feelings (even the negative ones), toxic positivity tells us to practise positive thinking instead. Just turn that frown upside-down and look on the bright side of life. Everything happens for a reason, right? Happiness is a choice.

Sound familiar?

Spiritual narcissism follows a similar path. Instead of embracing the harsh yet true reality that sometimes we have no control over the bad things that happen in life, it says you can avoid the same fate by practising [insert spiritual practice of choice here].

It’s an awful lot of pressure. And for most of us, the sanctimonious nature of the people pushing these practices put us off.

Can we reach true enlightenment?

I’m no guru or expert, but I believe resisting or avoiding inconvenience, failure, rejection, and feelings of discomfort hinders our ability to reach true enlightenment – if it exists at all. As lovely as it might be to live in a cocoon and shield ourselves from reality, doing so robs us of a chance to practice all those things genuine spirituality is trying to teach us.

Practices such as yoga, reiki, massage, intention setting, crystals, and acupuncture are all helpful when it comes to easing the symptoms of anxiety, depression, and stress. So are talking therapies, mindfulness, meditation, exercise, healthy eating, and sleep. And so is binge-watching Netflix, eating pizza, and doing nothing for a day.

The trick is finding one or a combination of practices that work for you, then using them to guide your recovery. If that includes spirituality, go in with an understanding that our egos are an intrinsic part of what makes us human. Instead of kicking ourselves for our negative emotions or feeling disappointed we aren’t ‘cured’ yet, accept that most recovery journeys last a lifetime.

For me, that’s more enlightened than any spiritual narcissist could ever be.

Does this resonate? I’d love to hear your thoughts! Leave a comment or get in touch via my contact page.

References

[1] Solis-Moreira, J. (2020, November 10). Magic mushroom therapy found effective for treating depression. Medical News Today. https://www.medicalnewstoday.com/articles/magic-mushroom-therapy-found-effective-for-treating-depression#Limitations-from-the-clinical-trial-design

[2] On the Panculturality of Self-enhancement and Self-protection Motivation: The Case for the Universality of Self-esteem. (2015, January 1). ScienceDirect. https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S2215091915000036

[3] Gebauer, J. E., Nehrlich, A. D., & Stahlberg, D. (2018, June 22). Mind-Body Practices and the Self: Yoga and Meditation Do Not Quiet the Ego but Instead Boost Self-Enhancements. SAGE Journals. https://journals.sagepub.com/action/cookieAbsent

[4] Crocker, J. (2004, May). The costly pursuit of self-esteem. PubMed. https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/15122925/