Overcoming Spiritual Resistance and Initiation Fears

Overcoming Spiritual Resistance and Initiation Fears

Overcoming Spiritual Resistance and Initiation Fears

Initiation Calls Us Forward—But Fear Can Block the Path

At some point on your spiritual path, you will be called to take a leap—a soul-level invitation into the next octave of your becoming. You might feel it as a tug deep in your belly, an undeniable sense that there is something more for you. And yet, the moment you begin to move toward it, resistance rises like a wave.

You find yourself second-guessing, negotiating with your intuition, or even turning away entirely. You tell yourself it’s not the right time. That you’re not ready. That someone else is more spiritual, more “healed,” more worthy.

This is spiritual resistance, and it is as sacred as the path itself.

For those walking toward initiation—true, lineage-based initiation that activates your light and awakens your service—this resistance can be especially potent. But here’s what most people don’t realize:

Fear does not mean you are on the wrong path. Fear means you are standing at the threshold of transformation.

What Is Spiritual Resistance, Really?

Spiritual resistance is not just procrastination. It’s a protective mechanism of the ego—one that activates whenever we come close to dissolving its control.

Your ego doesn’t fear failure. It fears obliteration.

When we step toward lineage-based initiation, we move into energetic terrain that dissolves illusion, strips away false identity, and calls our soul into fuller embodiment. This is not casual or recreational spirituality. It is soul-level alchemy, and your ego knows it.

That resistance might look like:

  • Procrastinating on setting up a consult or attending an event
  • Getting sick right before a spiritual retreat
  • Experiencing intense fatigue or apathy
  • Feeling irrational fear or dread
  • Doubting your teacher, the path, or your own intuition

None of these are signs you are “off track.” They are signs you are on it—and brushing right up against the parts of you that are ready to be transmuted.

Initiation Isn’t About Perfection—It’s About Readiness

Another common fear that arises on the path to initiation is the belief that you must be somehow better, clearer, or more healed before you step into deeper work.

But let me say this as clearly as I can:

You do not need to be perfect to be initiated. You simply need to be willing.

Willing to grow. Willing to commit. Willing to allow the Mystery to work through you, even when you don’t understand it yet.

The Sacred Lights Path doesn’t ask you to perform your spiritual readiness. It asks you to show up—authentically, messily, bravely. Initiation is the beginning, not the end.

Why Resistance Increases as You Get Closer to the Threshold

One of the paradoxes of this work is that resistance often gets louder the closer you get to breakthrough.

That conversation you meant to have? That event you wanted to attend? That training you felt called to join?

The moment you say “yes,” life might seem to rearrange itself to prevent you. The car breaks down. You get sick. You feel waves of confusion or despair.

From an energetic perspective, this is the ego’s last stand.

It senses the coming shift and scrambles to hold on to what has always been. But this is also when grace is nearest. If you can stay steady, if you can recognize that this resistance is the echo of the old dying away—you will make it through.

Five Spiritual Truths to Remember When Resistance Rises

  1. Fear is an Invitation, Not a Warning

Fear is often a sacred signpost. Instead of interpreting it as danger, ask: What truth am I being asked to face?

  1. You Are Already Enough

You don’t need to fix yourself to walk a spiritual path. Your desire, your presence, and your sincerity are enough.

  1. The Ego Thrashes as It Loosens Its Grip

What feels like falling apart may actually be falling together. Trust the unraveling.

  1. Initiation Is an Energetic Activation, Not a Performance

You don’t need to “do” initiation. You need to receive it. Let it work on you. Let it reshape you.

  1. You’re Not Alone

Mentorship, community, and sacred lineage hold you through the fire. You don’t have to figure it out solo. This is what Sacred Lights is for.

Common Fears About Spiritual Initiation—and the Truth That Transcends Them

Fear

“What if I lose myself?”

“What if I can’t handle it?”

“What if it doesn’t work?”

“What if I don’t belong here?”

 

Truth

You’ll lose what isn’t you. What remains will be more you than ever.

You’re not being called to something you cannot withstand. You are stronger than you know.

Initiation always works. It begins a process. It opens a doorway. What you do with it afterward is your co-creation.

If you are called, you are chosen. You belong. Even in your doubt.

Stepping Into the Unknown: The Sacred Path of Courage

There is a moment in every great journey where the seeker stands at the edge of their known world. The earth beneath them shakes. The sky goes quiet. Everything in them says turn back—except the deepest part, the one that whispers leap.

That is the moment of initiation.

And if you’re reading this, that moment may be here.

What awaits you on the other side is not just a new set of teachings or tools. What awaits is you, remembering who you are. What awaits is the Light that is your true inheritance—activated, embodied, and ready to serve.

You don’t have to walk alone. And you don’t have to keep waiting for the perfect moment. It’s here now. Even in the trembling.

You Are Being Called—Will You Answer?

At Sacred Lights, we hold the space for spiritual seekers, visionaries, and lightworkers like you to awaken through lineage-based initiation, mentorship, and community.

If you feel the tug of the Mystery, if your soul is stirring—don’t wait. Let this be your moment.

👉 Click here to set up a free consult and explore if initiation is your next step or find out more at sacredlights.com

Your path is sacred. Let us walk it with you.

On Being a Lover

On Being a Lover

On Being a Lover

When I think back on myself as a child, I am struck by the gentleness, openheartedness and connectedness that I possessed. I remember so many moments of feeling profound and exquisite love. As I watch the years turn in my mind, I start notice that the spontaneity of movement, the exuberant singing, the joyful embraces of loved ones declined and the solitary musings in the woods increased.

These deep and soulful moments of silent and private connection became the foundation of my development. It was when I was alone that I was most able to access myself, feel spiritual nourished, and lovingly held.

But during this time a split developed between the richness of my hearts experience, the depth of my spiritual connection and the people around me.

The ongoing infiltration of my bubble of love and innocence by destructive and predatory forces continually pushed me to withdraw, separate, and build a wall against what I was unable to otherwise protect myself from.

As time progressed and I became more and more overwhelmed by what seemed to be just parts of “normal life” for others, I had less and less access to the intrinsic lover in my nature.

This became a deep sadness that I could not put my finger on.

One version or another of this story is the story of most people’s lives. The people and events change. The responses to those people and events change but there has been a disruption in the flow of our natural essence and the way that it makes contact with the world.

We forget how to be a lover.

This year, along with some solid and relatively long standing intentions that I have been working with, I added a new one. I decided to hold the intention of being an amazing lover.

Not just of people but of life itself.

I knew that returning to this place of being the lover was asking for a healing of the early childhood places of disconnection and it meant coming into my life in a whole new way.

I also believe that returning “the lover” to the day in day out events of life is a much needed transformation of our disconnected world. I am devoted to the task.

As intentions can sometimes work, I was very soon to find myself face down with one eye wide open staring into what is holding me back and the other closed tightly hoping that the pain will pass quickly.

It was from here that I returned again to the lover inside and learned how my experiences and their resulting habits did not hold me back from being a lover but rather marvelously adorned her.

I hope in writing this that you might see this in yourself.

As you may know there is no safety, it is pointless to protect ourselves and yet we do and always will in one way or another. This is the path of the lover. The hide and seek, the reveal and conceal that is a beautiful dance of finding new levels of intimacy.

We do not need to leave our limitation behind but take them with us to the door and hold them lovingly as we pass through. In love, we find new ways to connect and then return again to the disconnect of our fragile limitations.

And then, connect once again.

There is no need to fix ourselves only the willingness to dance this dance.

Along with the compassionate carrying of our limitations, our connection to and honoring of our divine essence is the essential ground out of which our lovership emerges. It is in this access to our divine nature that we unfold the unique blueprint of our lover self.

The exquisite and perfect lover that can be like no other. The stunning essence that is devotedly received by those, who for them, its touch and its glance is a gift like the purest water.

There is no reason to fight for this essential part of us to be seen, received or accepted because this part of ourself is already in a deep embrace with its other.

For the lover part of ourselves, the embrace is eternal. But the illusion of disconnect draws us into a deeper experience of the embrace. It points the way.

The appearance of our lover for a moment or a lifetime reaches deep into a place of truth that is undeniable. It calls us, even in those moments of pain, to stretch beyond what we thought was possible into beauty that is unimaginable.

The path of the lover only goes in one direction. You cannot get lost.

Whatever you did or did not do to protect this precious part of yourself and however this may be showing up for you now, will, for the person intent of finding the lovers embrace, be signs directing them to the deepest purest part of you rather than leading away.

So, have no fear in your delicate and desiring heart, the one that craves the freedom and receptivity to allow your inner lover to return. You are ready. Your lover is waiting.

You Don’t Need to Know the Whole Path to Take the First Step

You Don’t Need to Know the Whole Path to Take the First Step

You Don’t Need to Know the Whole Path to Take the First Step

If you’re standing at a threshold, waiting to feel “ready” before you begin, let me say this clearly:
 

You don’t need to know the entire path to take the first step.

 
This is one of the core truths of spiritual transformation, and yet it’s the one we resist the most. We cling to the idea that we must have it all figured out—our purpose, our plan, our five-year forecast—before we act. We’ve been taught that uncertainty equals danger, and that doubt means we should delay.

But the soul speaks in a different language.

The soul doesn’t hand you a roadmap. It whispers in breadcrumbs. It doesn’t offer certainty—it offers intuitive clarity, which is often quiet, nonlinear, and easy to overlook when we’re spinning in our heads.

The Illusion of Certainty

We’ve all been conditioned to worship certainty. School systems, corporate jobs, and even many spiritual traditions prize linear logic. The unspoken rule is: “Don’t move unless you know what’s next.” We fear failure, judgment, and the vulnerability of being seen in process.

But spiritual transformation doesn’t work that way.

The path of awakening is rarely a straight line. It’s a spiral. A dance. A deepening. You don’t climb it like a ladder—you move with it like a river. And rivers are not concerned with maps. They’re concerned with movement.

So what if the thing you’re calling procrastination is actually your soul waiting for you to trust without proof?

What if clarity comes after movement—not before?

Spiritual Transformation Is Built in the Now

When we try to make major life decisions from a place of mental pressure and future fixation, we miss the divine intelligence of the present moment.

It’s in the now that your body offers feedback.
It’s in the now that your soul sends signals.
It’s in the now that inner guidance arises—not through analysis, but through presence.

And it’s from presence that we begin to walk our soul path, step by step, breath by breath.

Waiting for all the lights to turn green before you leave the driveway will keep you stuck. But taking one small, aligned step—even in the dark—sends a signal to your life: “I’m ready.” And that signal opens the door for more support, more synchronicity, more insight.

What Is Intuitive Clarity

Intuitive clarity isn’t a lightning bolt of knowing. It’s not a spreadsheet of your life’s purpose, neatly color-coded and future-proofed.

Instead, it often arrives as a sense—a gentle nudge, a subtle pull, a word that repeats itself in your mind. It’s the feeling in your gut when something is off, or the quiet excitement that rises when you think of a particular path, even if you don’t know why.

Your intuition is your soul’s language. But here’s the catch: it speaks softly, and it doesn’t shout over your fear.

To cultivate intuitive clarity, you must learn to slow down, to listen inward, and to separate your true voice from the chorus of expectations around you. You must choose trust over certainty and presence over performance.

When you do, you realize that your next step is never truly hidden—it’s just buried beneath the noise.

Learning to Walk the Unseen Path

So how do you begin when the path ahead feels vague or invisible?

Here are five truths that will help you navigate the terrain of spiritual transformation:

1. You don’t need to be fearless. You need to be willing.
Courage isn’t the absence of fear. It’s choosing to move with your fear. Willingness is more powerful than confidence. Willingness says: “Even though I don’t know the whole way, I trust myself to begin.”

2. Your resistance holds sacred information.
Procrastination, anxiety, even doubt—they’re not failures. They’re messengers. Ask them: What are you trying to protect me from? What deeper truth are you pointing me toward?

3. The soul path is not always efficient—but it’s always wise.
The straight line may be logical, but it’s rarely transformational. Your soul will often guide you in loops, through detours, and toward unexpected people or places. This isn’t a mistake—it’s divine choreography.

4. Small steps have quantum power.
When you follow a soul impulse—whether it’s making a phone call, signing up for a class, or simply journaling your feelings—you’re casting a spell. You’re declaring your willingness. And that energetic shift is often all it takes for the next opportunity to find you.

5. You are not walking alone.
Whether you sense it or not, there is a larger intelligence holding you. The universe responds to your movement. And when you take one conscious step, it meets you with guidance, support, and grace.

The Myth of the Perfect Plan

One of the most seductive myths on the spiritual journey is that there is a “perfect” path—and if we don’t find it or follow it exactly, we’ll mess everything up.

This belief keeps us paralyzed. It also disconnects us from the living truth of our own journey. Your soul is far more interested in your alignment than your strategy.

So let’s reframe:

Instead of asking, “What’s the perfect plan?”
Try asking, “What feels aligned right now?”
Instead of chasing a master blueprint, ask, “What would bring me into deeper integrity today?”

The path reveals itself through action. Every small decision becomes a breadcrumb. Every moment of willingness creates momentum.

This is faith-based living—not in the religious sense, but in the deeply human and divine act of walking before you see the way.

Real-Life Example: Choosing Without All the Answers

Years ago, I worked with a woman who was at a professional crossroads. She was burnt out, unsure whether to leave her job, and desperately searching for a “sign” that it was time.

After months of waiting for clarity, she finally asked herself a different question: “What’s one action that would feel self-honoring right now?”

Her answer was simple: take a week off.

During that week, she reconnected with herself, had a pivotal conversation with a mentor, and gained the clarity she had been waiting for—not because she forced it, but because she finally gave herself space to listen.

She didn’t find the whole path. But she took a step. And that step changed everything.

Honor the Mystery

You are not behind. You are not failing. You are not meant to have it all figured out.

You are meant to walk, to listen, to learn, and to trust.

The truth is, the soul doesn’t operate on deadlines. It doesn’t care about your five-year plan. It cares about your truth, your alignment, your aliveness.

So if you’re feeling lost or unsure, consider this: maybe you’re not lost. Maybe you’re just at the very edge of a breakthrough. And the only thing required is a single step in the direction of what feels right.

You don’t need to know the destination. Just take the next step in love, in trust, and in devotion to the truth that lives inside you.

Want deeper support for your spiritual path? Listen to the Roar of Love Podcast, where we explore the beauty of the in-between, the magic of trust, and the power of walking by inner light.

Returning to Love: A Pathway Back to God and Self

Returning to Love: A Pathway Back to God and Self

Returning to Love: A Pathway Back to God and Self

This quiet drifting away from love, from truth, from God, happens to many of us. Whether through heartbreak, hardship, betrayal, or the gradual wear of life’s disappointments, we can find ourselves walking at a distance from the very essence that which makes us feel most alive.

But, the path back is always available.

It is paved not with overcoming or even resolving—but with remembrance, humility, forgiveness, and the simple yet radical act of choosing love again.

Love as a Return to God

When I speak of love, I don’t mean sentiment or fleeting emotional warmth. I mean capital-L Love—the force that created everything and holds everything together. To return to Love is to return to God. And to return to God is to return to your own essence. There is no separation between these.

Love is the thread that runs through our very being. It is not outside of us. It is of us. And yet, somewhere along the way, something gets in the way.

What I’ve noticed—both in my own journey and in the lives of those I work with—is that it’s often the experiences of pain, disillusionment, or unhealed beliefs that build walls between us and the divine. We may not know it at the time, but we begin to withhold. We protect. We retreat.

Sometimes that wall is built from grief. Other times, it’s constructed out of subtle, long-standing resentment—maybe even toward God. We might not want to admit it, but somewhere deep down we can feel angry, abandoned, or betrayed by Life. And so we pull away. We try to reclaim autonomy. And in doing so, we unknowingly block the very thing we’re longing for: union.

The Invitation to Want Again

There comes a moment—and it can be a quiet one—where something inside us says, “Enough already.”
It’s not always dramatic. It might not come with a lightning bolt of clarity. But it carries a depth that’s unmistakable.

It’s the moment we want to want again.
Not just to function, or to manage, or to feel a little bit better—but to reconnect with the Source of Love itself.

This moment of willingness is powerful. It is a sacred turning point. And it sets everything in motion.

What follows may look like a breakdown or a breakthrough. It may come with tears, release, resistance, or surrender. But underneath it all is a softening—a dissolving of barriers, a choice to stop holding ourselves apart.

And when we choose—even in our trembling, even in our uncertainty—to return to Love, we are met. Every time.

Forgiveness, Surrender, and the Radiance of Grace

Returning to Love requires that we release the barriers we once believed we needed. It asks us to forgive—not only others, but ourselves. It asks us to let go of our pride, our need to be right, our grasping for control. It invites us to surrender to what has always been true: Love has never left us. We are the ones who turned away.

That realization is not meant to shame. It is meant to empower.

Because if we are the ones who built the barrier, we are also the ones who can dismantle it. Love is not something we need to earn. God is not waiting to punish us. Spirit has been here all along, patient, present, and infinitely kind.

The grace that flows from this realization is like nothing else. It fills the heart, realigns the soul, and restores a kind of trust that can’t be taught—only remembered.

Coming Home to Yourself

As we return to Love, we don’t just reconnect with God—we also reconnect with our own wholeness.
We remember who we are beyond the roles, beyond the wounds, beyond the striving.

We remember that we are the children of God. That we are made of the same Light we once searched for outside ourselves. And from this place of remembering, we live differently.

We become more anchored. More graceful. More able to hold others in compassion because we are no longer striving to fill the empty places inside.

We begin to embody love. Not perform it. Not earn it. But be it.

Let This Be Your Moment

If you find yourself feeling disconnected, hardened, or weary—let this be your moment to return.
Let yourself want again. Let yourself feel again. Let yourself believe, even slightly, that Love is here.

You do not need to know exactly how to come home. You just need to choose it.
The path will reveal itself as you walk.

And if all you can say today is, “I want to want to return to Love,” that is more than enough.
Love will meet you there.

On Vulnerability and Humility

On Vulnerability and Humility

On Vulnerability and Humility

About a year after stepping more deeply into my spiritual path, a series of events shifted everything I thought I knew. They pushed me into an entirely different understanding of what it means to grow spiritually. I came to see that integrity is the most important companion on this journey—and that vulnerability is the foundation on which integrity stands.

To be vulnerable is to offer your unguarded heart and truth without the guarantee of being met in kind. It means showing up with your flaws, your uncertainty, and even your pain. It means being willing to be seen in your imperfection and still stand in your truth.


Humility is what makes vulnerability possible.
It’s the inner stance that allows us to admit when we’re wrong, to acknowledge our blind spots, and to stay open even when it would be easier to protect or defend.

Walking a spiritual path with our humanity front and center ensures that we’re doing the necessary work to become a worthy vessel for the blessings we receive. Vulnerability ensures that we remain open. Humility ensures that we remain grounded.

Together, they open us to a level of spiritual teaching that would otherwise remain inaccessible.

 

It takes a strong and mature person—spiritually and psychologically—to choose vulnerability. When we do, we often invite others’ projections. People may place their own unresolved pain or expectations onto us. Some will blame us for their discomfort or hope we will carry what is theirs to heal.

To the untrained eye, vulnerability can be mistaken for weakness. But when grounded in humility, it becomes a profound act of courage.

To stay the course, we must be anchored in our sense of self and in our connection to spirit. This is what allows us to hold space for misunderstanding, to remain open-hearted in the face of judgment, and to continue offering ourselves fully—even when it’s hard.

When we show up vulnerably, we offer others the chance to do the same. And when someone accepts that invitation, something sacred becomes possible. A depth of healing and connection that cannot happen in any other way. This is where real potential takes root—for both people.

As we deepen in our spiritual practice, we’re often entrusted with insights and gifts. But without humility, it becomes dangerously easy to misinterpret our intentions. We may begin to believe that we are above reproach, that our wisdom exempts us from the hard work of self-reflection. This is the subtle beginning of the spiritualized ego.

Vulnerability brings us back to ourselves. It asks us to look inward before offering correction or counsel to others. It asks us to own our mistakes, approach with humility, and when needed—make amends. It keeps us from becoming self-righteous and, in doing so, from doing harm in the name of good.

For me, the most profound teacher of both vulnerability and humility is Jesus.

He said, “Let he among you who is innocent cast the first stone.”
He offered these words to people convinced of their moral superiority. People who had used spiritual principles to justify cruelty.

The lesson is clear: when we lose sight of our own limitations—even while claiming to do good—we become misguided.

Each day gives us a choice: to be vulnerable, or to cast the first stone.
To lead with humility, or with ego.
One path lightens our burden. The other adds to it.

The more weight we let go of, the more light we let in.

I know, in my own life, I don’t always get it right. Vulnerability doesn’t always come first. Sometimes, I wait until I’ve created a sense of safety—until I’ve been validated or felt some semblance of control. But I am learning to trust more. To surrender more quickly. And with each step, I feel lighter. My insights deepen. My connection strengthens. My clarity expands.

In the end, all we truly have is the truth of our heart.
Not how many times we were right.
Not whether we were admired or understood.

What matters is that we’ve made amends where we’ve caused harm.
That we’ve owned our limitations.
That we’ve met each moment with as much care and clarity as we could.

To do this—to live this—requires both vulnerability and humility.
Together, they shape the heart of true spiritual leadership.