Spirituality, money, and manifesting your ego
July 6, 2025
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I keep noticing a trend in the spiritual world lately: people proudly declaring, “I love money,” or “I’m not ashamed to admit that I feel like my wisdom and work is worth thousands of dollars.” Some say it humbly, others as if it’s proof of their courage or their spiritual authenticity.
It’s presented like loving money is some shocking revelation. As if being spiritual automatically meant renouncing wealth, and finally someone has the courage to admit they want it.
And okay, fine. I even liked the message at first. I’m pro no-taboo around money, or anything really. I don’t think it’s wrong. In fact, I think it’s healthy to have a good relationship with money. The world does revolve around it. And it can feel freeing to admit yes, I want it. To give yourself permission to have desires without guilt.
But now, it’s everywhere. Every platform, every feed, every retreat brochure. What started as liberating is starting to feel like ego parading around in designer yoga pants.
Manifesting your dream life, claiming abundance, showing off your lifestyle as proof of spiritual evolution, it’s capitalism with a glow-up.
And it’s not just the obvious “spiritual influencers.” Even the ones who seem genuinely enlightened are building money empires. Maybe that says something about the world we live in. Or maybe it says just as much about me and my own projections.
Part of me would rather see someone with depth, integrity, and real insight running the show with their monet than your average politician. But still, there’s friction there. Is this spirituality, or just business with a fancy label? Is it possible to have integrity while still trying to capitalize on everything you put into the world?
The bigger picture I’m drawing from this is that nothing, not even the deepest insight, is immune to trends. Even wisdom can be packaged, sold, and marketed. And honestly, do we need it all?
I think not. Less really is more.
Fewer podcasts, fewer posts, fewer webinars, even from the “enlightened” corners of the internet, seems to bring the most clarity. Real stillness, the kind that actually reaches you, isn’t packaged. It isn’t trendy. And it definitely can’t be sold.
Maybe the real practice isn’t chasing the next insight or following the latest mantra. Maybe it’s just stopping. Letting the noise fade. Letting space for silence. Letting yourself breathe.
And honestly? That feels like the sassiest, most rebellious thing you can do right now.
