Spirituality has never been more clickable. Midnight TikTok rituals, bite-sized meditation apps, Instagram reels that remix timeless wisdom with modern hustle, this buffet is endless and tailored for our tastes. 

This democratization is, in many ways, a gift. More of us are stepping away from inherited forms of religion to craft personal paths that actually fit our lives. We’re “re-enchanting” the world on our own terms.

And yet, the same forces that make spiritual life accessible also make it shallow; what’s meaningful becomes marketable; what’s complex becomes clickable. As a psychodynamic therapist who works at the intersections of somatic practice, mindfulness, thought, and non-ordinary states of consciousness, I want to name both the beauty and the trap of our moment. The beauty is you have permission to explore. The trap is self-deception dressed in aesthetically pleasing, algorithm-approved clothing.

Healing is relational, not transactional. 

That single sentence is my North Star for navigating this terrain.

To unbundle this all is tricky, especially because there is a shadow side to all of this. We live in a pluralistic moment sometimes labeled “New Age” or “holistic spirituality,” where elements from Eastern religions, Western esotericism, and Indigenous practices are woven into personal mosaics. 

This unbundling offers genuine freedom: one is no longer bound by geography or gatekeepers. We can learn breathwork in Berlin, Tibetan chants on YouTube, and prayer forms from contemplative Christianity on a podcast during your morning run.

But pluralism without depth can become spiritual sampling, kind of like speed-dating wisdom traditions. Without context, mentorship, or community, we risk collecting experiences instead of cultivating practice. 

The difference is subtle but decisive: experiences happen to us; practices grow us.

This ‘quick fix’ approach is tempting, and I will go on record to say it’s a myth. Digital culture trains us to expect immediacy: same-day delivery, instant streaming, one-click checkout. It’s natural to import those expectations into our spiritual lives: Manifest your soul mate in 21 days. Trauma cleared in one ceremony. Shadow work—done by Friday!

There’s nothing wrong with wanting relief because this want is a human need. Pain seeks a way out. But every wisdom lineage I trust says growth is earned over time such as through commitment, humility, relationship, and repair. 

Psychodynamically, the quick-fix impulse often plays as a spiritual bypass: we leap over grief, rage, shame, and attachment wounds, and call the jump “transcendence.” It feels good until the unmetabolized material returns which it will in some way and often with a sharper edge.

Non-ordinary states, including those catalyzed by breathwork, meditation, or certain ceremonial contexts, do open doors. But the house you enter still needs maintenance. Insight is the invitation; integration is the transformation.