There’s a quiet kind of heaviness that comes when your spiritual rituals start to feel hollow.

You light the candle. You say the thing. You meditate, you sing, you chat, you sit quietly in silence depending on your ritual design. But, practice can feel like a rollercoaster with its incredible highs and disappointing lows. You can feel yourself going through the motions— almost like you are on the sidelines of a play where you’ve forgotten why the scene matters. And it can be disheartening and hard to talk about it.

For those of us who practice any form of spirituality—be it prayer, journaling, meditation, chanting, reading sacred texts, or any kind of ritual—there’s often an unspoken expectation that we should feel “something.” Peace. Connection. Clarity. But sometimes,  you just feel tired. Or distracted. Or doubtful. And you wonder: Is this even working anymore? What am I doing wrong? Why?

I’ve been there more time than I care to count in my life and my spiritual journey.

The Guilt of Not Feeling “Spiritual Enough”

For me, it’s easy to fall into self-judgement. I am great at building up those around me, but I am absolute garbage at being kind to myself. Thoughts of, “Maybe I’m not devoted enough, maybe I’m not trying enough, maybe if I gave MORE, I’d feel connected. If I were more disciplined, I’d feel divine presence. If I really believed, this wouldn’t be so hard.”

I know these thoughts are heavy, and very unfair not just to myself as a person, but also all the journeys I’ve been on so far and continue to move toward. Intellectually, I know that I am being unkind to myself, but I struggle with realizing that I’m in these negative cycles sometimes. I’m sure many people can relate.

Because spirituality isn’t a constant emotional high. Sometimes it’s just about showing up. And, I keep showing up. Through every turn in the rollercoaster – the joyful, the sad, the enraging, the calming. I show up through every single one.

The Myth of Perfect Practice

We imagine the spiritually “advanced” as people who float through their rituals with unwavering grace and joy. But most traditions speak to this very struggle. The dry spells, the dark nights, the internal and external doubts. The silence.

Practice is not performance. Ritual isn’t about achieving a mood—it’s about creating space. Sometimes what comes into that space is joy. Other times, it’s resistance. Or grief. Or nothing at all.

Redefining the Purpose

Maybe the goal is to be with whatever is there. Even the boredom. Even the frustration. I think a lot of spiritual practice is less about the overall or long-term experience, and more about turning up with honesty in all it messy rollercoaster glory.  A lot of times, this can mean bobbing through in maintenance mode rather than energetically. So what does maintenance look like for you?

Tips and Tricks for the Struggle Wagon

Here’s what I’ve found to be helpful when rituals lose their spark:

• Remember to be gentle with myself.  I’m not failing, I’m human.
  
• Change it up.  When something feels stale, its time to try a different approach. Go outside. Walk. Listen to music that nourishes you. Light a candle with no agenda. Breathe.
  
• Sometimes the shorter rituals are impactful in the long-term. Maybe it’s your morning cup of tea. Could be the 5 minutes you take intentionally picking your clothes or jewelry for the day. Maybe its tarot pulling every Monday at 6am. A five-minute, heartfelt and honesty action is more powerful than a forced hour-long session.
  
• Community. Sharing your struggle with a trusted friend or mentor can be grounding. You’re not alone.
  
• Take the time to rest. Rest is healing. Rest is how our bodies are hardwired to recharge. Sometimes the most spiritual thing you can do is take a break.

The Sacred in the Struggle

Struggling with your spiritual rituals doesn’t mean you’re disconnected from the sacred. It means you’re real. It means you’re in it. A ritual that feels dry today may blossom next week—or next year. Or, and sometimes more importantly, there are lessons in the dryness.

What matters is that you keep listening. Not just upward or outward—but inward.

Blessed Be