I’ve been reading several articles regarding the news of Deepak Chopra being on the Epstein files. I can feel the collective rage and grief. For many navigating these emotions and reflecting on their own spiritual journey, it’s the “loss of innocence” that is truly being mourned.

I believe this disillusionment is a necessary part of spiritual maturation.

In the beginning, like small children, we trust the messengers as we trust our parents. As we grow, we enter a “teenage” phase where we realize the flawed humanness in those we looked up to. This can be a profound shock. However, as we mature spiritually, we realize that messengers are just that—messengers. No matter how glamorous or enlightened they appear, they are human, just like you and me.

I’ll be honest—I’ve been there too. I used to have that deep longing to belong to an “elite” spiritual circle, imagining how much it would validate my progress. But once I was “in,” the fantasy shattered. I found myself dealing with more ego, more politics, and more complicated social dynamics than I ever expected. People in those circles often have such high-functioning egos that genuine communication becomes a challenge.

We eventually realize that our inner power doesn’t come from the messenger. It comes from within, and from our own direct connection to the spiritual world.

When I stepped into teaching and facilitating, I went through my own loss of innocence. I witnessed firsthand how ego and politics play out within spiritual circles, even within methods I truly believed could change the world. Dealing with that grief was a lonely path, but walking it is exactly what allowed me to grow and mature.

I resonate deeply with this excerpt from Lissa Rankin’s recent article: Blowing The Whistle On Deepak Chopra, The Epstein Files, Cancel Culture, & Holding My Influencer Peers (& Myself) Accountable. Direct link in the comment section.

“I am heartbroken at times, yes. Disillusioned, certainly. I grieve the loss of innocence many of us carried into this field, the longing we had to believe that those standing on the stages embodied what they taught. But I am not without hope. Because what this moment reveals is not only corruption or hypocrisy; it reveals something far more human and far more redeemable—a profound collective hunger for truth, for integrity, for leaders who are willing to live their teachings not perfectly, but transparently. Not from pedestals, but from the messy, accountable reality of being fully human.

If anything, this reckoning feels like an invitation. An invitation for all of us—teachers, healers, writers, coaches, seekers—to step out from behind curated personas and into deeper congruence. It asks us to tell the truth even when it costs us something, to hold one another accountable without collapsing into dehumanization, and to repair when we inevitably cause harm. It calls us to refuse the seduction of proximity to power when that proximity requires us to betray our own values. We do not need perfect leaders; we need honest ones. We need communities that prize humility over grandiosity, accountability over image management, and service over fame.

Most of all, this moment asks us to remember that the real work was never about the gurus anyway. It has always been about awakening our own discernment, our own inner authority, our own capacity to sense what is clean and what is exploitative, what is loving and what is harmful—regardless of who is delivering the message from the stage. If this reckoning is painful, it is because something sacred is being protected. If anger is rising, it is because love and a desire for truth live underneath it. And if illusions are falling away, it does not signal the end of the wellness or spiritual movement, but rather the beginning of its maturation.”

Full article: https://substack.com/@lissarankinmd/note/p-170818523?r=7nw4s0