The illusion of the straight path

Have you ever looked at someone you admire spiritually and thought, “They must have had it all figured out from the start”?
It’s a tempting thought. We imagine awakening as a linear process — start meditating, do some yoga, read a few books, and boom: enlightenment.

But anyone who’s walked the path knows the truth is far messier. Spiritual growth is not a straight line. It loops, spirals, stalls, and sometimes seems to go backwards. And that’s not a flaw — it’s part of the design.

In this post, we’ll explore why the spiritual journey unfolds in a winding way, and how embracing that can lead to deeper peace, patience, and personal transformation.

Why we crave a straight road

There’s something comforting about the idea of a clear, upward path. It fits with our cultural obsession with progress: more productivity, better habits, constant improvement.

We carry this mindset into our spiritual life. We want measurable progress — deeper meditations, more peace, fewer mistakes. When the journey doesn’t go as planned, we think we’ve failed.

But spirituality isn’t a corporate ladder. It’s not a race or a checklist. It’s a relationship — with life, with ourselves, with the unknown. And relationships are never linear.

The spiral staircase of growth

A more helpful image is the spiral. Imagine climbing a spiral staircase inside a tower. You keep passing the same windows, but each time you’re a little higher up. The view’s familiar, but your perspective has changed.

This is how real growth works. Old patterns come back. Emotions you thought you’d “healed” reappear. Doubts return. But you meet them from a new place — with more compassion, awareness, and resilience.

Progress isn’t the absence of challenge. It’s how you meet the challenge now, compared to before.

Detours are part of the path

Sometimes we think we’re off-track. Life throws us a curveball — illness, heartbreak, burnout — and we feel like we’ve lost our way. But what if those detours are the path?

Many traditions speak of the “dark night of the soul” — a period where everything familiar falls away. It’s painful, disorienting, and often deeply necessary. These moments break down the ego’s illusions and open space for deeper truth to emerge.

Just because it hurts doesn’t mean it’s wrong. Some of the greatest leaps in spiritual insight come when everything else has fallen apart.

You’re not doing it wrong

One of the most important messages on this journey: You’re not doing it wrong.
Feeling stuck? That’s part of it.
Struggling with doubt? That’s part of it.
Feeling peaceful for weeks and then suddenly anxious again? Yep — also part of it.

There’s no final destination where all your questions vanish and your human messiness disappears. But over time, you become more comfortable with the questions. You soften. You become more available to life, as it is.

Spiritual growth isn’t about becoming perfect. It’s about becoming real.

The wisdom of seasons

Nature is a great teacher here. Trees don’t bloom all year round. The tide comes in, and it goes out. The moon waxes and wanes. Why should we expect our inner world to be any different?

There are seasons of insight and energy, and seasons of rest and reflection. Forcing yourself to be constantly growing is like trying to make a tree bloom in winter. It’s not only exhausting — it’s unnatural.

Learning to honour your inner seasons is a profound act of trust. It says: “Even when I can’t see the growth, I believe it’s happening.”

The role of spiritual practice

So how do you stay grounded on a path that twists and turns?

Spiritual practices — like meditation, prayer, journalling, or breathwork — help you build inner stability. They’re not about achieving some future result. They’re about staying present through the messiness.

Think of practice as an anchor. When the waters are calm, it keeps you centred. When the storm hits, it keeps you from drifting too far out. Over time, practice helps you relate differently to your experience — with more clarity, less fear, and deeper trust.

Letting go of comparison

It’s easy to compare your journey to someone else’s. They seem more peaceful, more “awake,” more consistent. But spiritual growth is profoundly personal. What looks like a breakdown from the outside might be a breakthrough in disguise.

Comparison distorts your view. It makes you forget the uniqueness of your path. The only real measure of growth is how present and loving you are in your own life — not how you measure up to someone else.

Trusting the process

Here’s the paradox: the moment you stop trying to control your growth, real transformation begins.
When you stop needing it to look a certain way, you start to see the grace in the twists and turns.
When you surrender to the mystery, you become available to what’s actually happening — not just your ideas about what should be happening.

Trust doesn’t mean giving up. It means learning to move with life, not against it.

Final thoughts: your path is sacred

You don’t have to walk in a straight line to be walking towards truth. You don’t have to be certain, clear, or calm all the time. You’re allowed to stumble, pause, and even turn around for a while.

This journey is not about arriving somewhere perfect — it’s about remembering, again and again, who you really are. And that remembering might come through meditation, through heartbreak, through silence, through laughter, through losing everything, or through finding peace in a moment of breath.

Your path is yours. And it is sacred — crooked lines and all.

Extra Resources

You might find this post interesting: The Connection Between Nature and Spiritual Wisdom: Lessons from the Natural World

Ready to find your inner calm? Go here to start your journey.

Why not treat yourself to a Mindfulness Retreat or a Meditation Retreat in the beautiful Devon countryside?

Best Wishes,

David.

© D. R. Durham, All rights reserved, 2025.