The Flaws in Spirituality.

 

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Chapter: The Cracks in the Temple

I have bowed in Zen temples where the master’s silence masked abuse.
I’ve sat cross-legged beside Muslims who preached love but practiced exclusion.
I’ve broken fasts in Ramadan with men who broke their wives’ spirits behind closed doors.

And still, I seek.

Because the truth is not where the robes are clean—it’s where the soul refuses to lie.

We all want to believe in the perfect path, the unshakable system, the enlightened guide.
But in every tradition I’ve walked, I’ve found both truth and trauma, both grace and greed.

Zen, in all its elegance, has its own shadows. I’ve seen them—hidden behind chants and incense smoke, where ego dressed itself as emptiness and preyed on the vulnerable.

And in Islam, the din I was born into, I’ve witnessed beauty beyond words—recitations that melt the heart, generosity that would shame kings—but also men who invoked the Prophet while forgetting his gentleness. Who built walls higher than the Kaaba, around race, gender, and power?

I don’t write these things to shame anyone.
I write them because the truth is sacred, and silence, when dishonest, becomes complicity.

I’ve chosen to walk alone, not because I have no path, but because I’ve walked too many—and I’ve learned that the map is never more important than the walker.

So yes, there are cracks in the temple walls.
But sometimes, that’s how the light enters.

#ZenAndIslam #SpiritualTruths #SacredAndProfane #CracksInTheTemple #HealingThroughHonesty #WalkingThePath #NoFalseGurus #FaithAndFracture #PersonalPilgrimage #AwakeningJourney