Spiritual Bypassing and the Cost of Looking Away
Feb 25, 2026
There’s an important distinction that I keep seeing being blurred over and over again, and while this is not new, it matters more now than it ever has.
It’s the difference between having no capacity and choosing not to use the capacity you have.
When we say things like, I don’t watch the news because it’s too depressing or anxiety-inducing, or I only get my information from certain places, that is often framed as self-care or discernment. And up to a point it is, but we also need to be extremely aware that it’s a luxury. It’s a luxury afforded to you and me and those of us who are fortunate enough to live lives where we are not currently the ones being directly impacted by whatever is too depressing or anxiety-inducing. It’s a luxury because we have a choice about whether we want to feel uncomfortable, and whether we want to have certain identities or ideas challenged.
This is different from survival needs or a deep lack of capacity for further discomfort.
There are times in life when maybe all you genuinely have capacity for is just getting through the day. You might struggle to have a roof over your head and food on the table. Or maybe you have those material needs met, but you’re physically unwell, or in a relationship that is challenging, or in a job that is so exhausting it drains every reserve you have. When capacity is diminished like this, narrowing your focus to what you can handle is not bypassing or avoidance. It’s reality. You’re exhausted by your life, and you can’t see much beyond that. There’s no shame in that, and it’s not a permanent state.
Capacity changes. It returns. And when it does, different choices become possible.
When this kind of choice exists, it’s a signal. It’s not that the discomfort is pleasant or easy, but more that it isn’t a threat to your survival.
But the bypassing — that happens somewhere else.
It happens when there is a little more space. A little more resourcing. When you’re able to scroll through your phone with a full stomach in a warm space with most of your material and emotional needs having been met that day. Where there is, in truth, enough room, enough capacity, to feel the discomfort, to look, to stay present with it. And instead, out of habit or fear or both, you choose not to. You turn away. You smooth it over. You scroll on. You tell yourself you’ve done all your healing work, so this reaction, this conflict out there, this rupture and division, this drama must belong to someone else.
That particular second or moment is important, because it’s where choice actually becomes available again.
This isn’t me. It’s you. It’s them.
That’s the choice point right there. It’s them. Not me. That sentence holds a lot right now. It shows up as I’ve done all my healing. It shows up as I’ve done all my research. It shows up as I’m informed enough. It shows up as an odd and unshakeable certainty that does not need, or more importantly want, to be questioned.
And why not? Because there’s something defensive underneath it. A need to protect an identity, a position, an idea. I’m right. And once that defence is in place, curiosity shuts down. Accountability shuts down. Relationship shuts down. There’s no space for listening, for observing, for dialogue, for conversation, for seeing another person as just as human as ourselves.
But when that defence breathes, even a little, movement returns. The choice is there again.
And none of this is happening in a vacuum. We are living inside technological systems that amplify division, exaggerate certainty, and flat-out reward outrage and allegiance. Algorithms that don’t care about nuance. Companies which profit from polarisation. Power which accrues so much more easily when people stop questioning and start blaming.
All of these systems work best when people disengage. But they lose a lot of their power when people stay present.
Often right now we are being given a you to point at. Someone to fault. Someone to other. And bypass fits so very neatly into that because it allows us to feel clean, virtuous and healed without having to change very much. Without having to inconvenience ourselves. Without having to feel uncomfortable.
This is where a lot of spiritual language has been weaponised, consciously or not.
In my lifetime of working within various spiritual and wellness spheres, I’ve heard terms like 3D and 5D, ascended and non-ascended, conscious and unconscious, muggle and wizard. What may once have been an attempt to describe shifts in awareness or energy has for much too long now been taken far too literally. It’s turned into just another hierarchy.
And this isn’t only about those teaching or speaking. It’s also about those choosing who they listen to, who they elevate, and what they’re willing to question or not.
Because real insight doesn’t confirm who you already think you are. It doesn’t pat you on the back and say oh you’re amazing, you’re always right, you never need another perspective. Real insight asks you to sacrifice something. It asks you to be present.
Insights are meant to be uncomfortable. They are meant to challenge previous beliefs, and the systems in which we live. They are meant to cost you something, maybe a little bit of that comfort. That’s what maturity is. Spiritual power that remains entangled with an immature ego is dangerous and divisive. Spiritual following that remains incurious and comfortable, that chooses division and othering, that enjoys feeling special and chosen at the expense of a wider population, all that leads to is conspiracy theories, division and fear.
Energy moves. It ripples. It flows, in all directions. It was never meant to be a tool of division. Nor was it meant to be neutral. None of us is neutral. We never were, but for a while there we could pretend. What’s different now is not the lack of neutrality, but the cost of ignoring it.
At this point, in this 3D world of ours, I don’t think any of us has the luxury of pretending neutrality is harmless. Saying I’m not taking sides or I can see both sides. Saying the news is too depressing, and anyway the media can’t be trusted, so I’m just sending love and light.
Love and light. There is a huge and vital difference between holding a protected, safe space for people and holding a space that cuts them off from the reality of the world they live in. Love and light without actual engagement is not innocent or evolved spirituality. It’s disengagement. And frankly at this stage, it’s irresponsible.
At some point, discomfort is not a problem for you to solve. It’s a signal. And choosing not to respond to it, when you have the capacity to do so, is an important choice. One that has impact well beyond your inner world.
Discomfort gives you a chance to look within and without. It gives you a chance to question your inner narrative andrespond in your community. Discomfort is evidence that you’re still responsive, not that you’re failing. And while you’re still responsive, hope lives within that moment. Hope is something that we cannot afford to be complacent about anymore.
So yes. It is time to get uncomfortable. It is time to get activated. It is time to take accountability for your own responsibility, for your privilege, for your participation, for your place in your local community, for your ancestors, for your spiritual practice and traditions, for your life which is lived in a weaving with all these other lives.
Because whether you like it or not, you are a part of the system you are living inside. And pretending otherwise doesn’t remove that responsibility.
If you really want to send love and light, it’s time to get down in the dirt and start living it. Just imagine what that could do.