Are You Practicing Spiritual Materialism? Warning Signs + How To Keep It Real

Spirituality wasn't always so accessible. Once upon a time, it was reserved for the mystics, monks, and ascetics of the world. Accessing teachings required long treks, grueling initiations, or even a certain bloodline. T

oday, we're a podcast or library visit away from more wisdom and less ignorance. Because of this, it's no wonder the number of Americans defining themselves as "spiritual but not religious" has been increasing for some time.

Spirituality can be a bit deceiving. On the one hand, it's a worldview, lifestyle, and ideology. On the other, it's a label. Anyone can claim the label of spirituality just like anyone can buy the namaste T-shirt, choose a particular guru, or sling the world karma as common parlance.

There's nothing wrong with any of the above—but it does indicate that spirituality may have a doppelgänger. What looks like spirituality, sounds like spirituality, but isn't quite? For the spiritually curious in a material world, spiritual materialism is the term to know.

In other words: Spiritual materialism is when we think we're doing something spiritual but are actually strengthening the ego. It's when our ego has us fooled that something external or illusory is the key to enlightenment.

I'll be the first person to admit the sparkly allure of a crystal shop. I had a collection of mala beads back when they were fresh on the yoga scene and once put far too much reliance on my tarot deck. But all of these physical belongings, even those of a spiritual nature, Trungpa ascribes to "the neurotic pursuit of physical comfort, security, and pleasure." The thing is the crystals and devotional statues can have value. We don't practice spiritual materialism by owning these things but by attempting to create safety and comfort through them.

Spiritual materialism takes place on the internal level in the form of ideas, concepts, and ideologies—or what Trungpa loosely defines as our intellect. Just like we lean on our physical things to bring comfort, we can lean on our intellect to navigate life more comfortably. "Nationalism, communism, existentialism, Christianity, Buddhism," Trungpa says, "all provide us with identities, rules of action, and interpretations of how and why things happen as they do." Mentally, we use ideologies, beliefs, and concepts to protect us or soften 'what is.'"

There's no question that a solid yoga practice, regular meditation, or an ayahuasca retreat can introduce us to (or expand) our consciousness. But Trungpa describes the last pillar of spiritual materialism as "the effort of consciousness to maintain awareness of ourselves." It's "when we use spiritual and psychological disciplines as the means of maintaining our self-consciousness, of holding on to our sense of self. Drugs, yoga, prayer, meditation, trances, various psychotherapies—all can be used in this way," he says. Paradoxically, our susceptibility to this layer increases the "more spiritual" we become.

It's strange and uprooting to think that even our spiritual practices or teachers can become obstacles. And at the risk of an existential crisis: Once we give up spirituality itself, what's left? According to Trungpa, "It is essentially to relate to yourself, to your own experience, really. If one does not relate to oneself, then the spiritual path becomes dangerous, becomes purely external entertainment rather than an organic personal experience."