Dear souls on the sacred path,
There comes a moment in the inner journey when we must ask ourselves, What am I truly seeking? Is it enlightenment, or approval? Freedom, or perfection? Liberation, or the illusion of control? This moment, the one we are sitting in right now, asks not for accomplishment, but for courage. Not for perfection, but for presence.
I want to speak today to the part of you that is exhausted. The part that has tried to earn love through performance. The part of you that quietly measures your worth by how spiritual you appear, how pure your speech sounds, how seamlessly your meditations unfold. That part of you is not sinful. That part is not weak. That part is simply tired of not being allowed to rest.
And so, today, we name the hidden chain: perfectionism. It is a subtle tyrant that disguises itself as discipline, but secretly feeds on our fear of not being good enough, for God, for others, or even for ourselves. In Sanskrit, the word for perfection is siddhi, but in the Vedic understanding, siddhi does not mean flawlessness. It refers to alignment with the Divine. Siddhi is not about image or achievement, it is about the presence of truth. You were never asked by God to be perfect. You were asked to be present.
We often believe we are walking the path of awakening, but sometimes, we are merely walking the path of subtle self-rejection, one that wears the robes of spirituality but is rooted in the fear of being unworthy. We say, “I’m not there yet,” as though “there” is a distant mountaintop we must conquer before we are lovable. We glance sideways at others and wonder, “Why aren’t they evolving faster? Why can’t they feel what I feel?” But these questions are not born from clarity, they are mirrors reflecting our own deep longing to be seen and held without condition.
Perfectionism is a clever trick of the ego, and ironically, it blocks the very love we are striving to embody. In the Bhagavad Gita, Krishna tells Arjuna, “Perform your duty with devotion, surrendering all attachment to success or failure. This equanimity is called Yoga.” That verse reminds us that our worth is not measured by our results. We are free to be both flawed and faithful. We do not need to be finished to be full of God.
Let this be a turning point in your path, not the moment you become better, but the moment you become softer. Let it be the moment you forgive yourself for all the silent ways you’ve judged your heart for not shining fast enough. Let it be the moment your practice becomes an offering, not an obligation. Let this be the moment where you stop asking your inner child to be perfect, and instead sit beside them in love that expects nothing.
In practice, this surrender may look like pausing before you speak, not to edit yourself, but to let your words be soaked in love. It may look like bowing in apology when you’ve judged another’s journey, not because you were wrong, but because your love has grown deeper. It may look like choosing silence when the voice of perfectionism wants to speak. And most of all, it may look like seeing the Divine in those who trigger your judgment, for they are showing you the places within yourself that still ask to be held.
So, let us trade the heavy crown of perfection for the open hands of compassion. Let us trade critique for curiosity. Let us become safe containers, not just for others, but for our own messy, sacred becoming. You are not your standards. You are not your spiritual résumé. You are not here to ascend. You are here to arrive, again and again, with your whole heart.
Breathe, and let the breath say, I am enough. In this breath, I am enough. Let every imperfection become an altar. Let every mistake become a mantra. And let every other soul become your teacher in the art of letting go.
Jai Sri Krishna. Jai Sri Radhe. Jai to the holy mess of becoming. May we walk together, not toward perfection, but toward presence. Let that be our sadhana. Let that be our truth.