I used to think being spiritual meant sitting cross-legged under a tree, eyes closed, trying to levitate with good vibes.

And while I’ve definitely had moments that looked a little like that (minus the levitating), I’ve realized over time that spirituality isn’t about how you look or what you practice, it’s about how you live.

Spirituality, for me, has become less about rituals and more about awareness. Less about talking the talk, and more about how you treat people when no one’s watching.

If you’ve ever wondered whether you’re on a spiritual path—or if someone you know truly is—it’s not about the crystals on their desk or the number of meditation apps on their phone. 

It’s about what’s happening beneath the surface.

Let’s dive into what I’ve found to be the core traits of people who live from a deeper, more grounded place.

They seek meaning beyond material things

I’m not saying material success is wrong. I’ve chased goals. I’ve wanted more money, better stuff, and the freedom that comes with it.

But something shifted when I realized none of those things could give me peace.

A new phone didn’t stop me from feeling anxious. A promotion didn’t make me feel more connected to life.

People with a spiritual core tend to ask bigger questions: Why am I here? What does it mean to live well?

They see success not just in what they accumulate, but in how aligned they feel with their purpose.

As the Dalai Lama once said, “We are visitors on this planet. We are here for ninety or one hundred years at the very most. During that period, we must try to do something good, something useful, with our lives.”

And that’s the difference—spiritual people measure value in contribution and connection, not just consumption.

As someone who built a multi-site online business, I know what it’s like to hit financial milestones—and still feel a quiet emptiness underneath. It wasn’t until I shifted my focus from building an empire to building a life of meaning that I started to feel truly grounded.

My formal background in psychology helped me understand that this isn’t rare: when our goals aren’t anchored in values, fulfillment stays just out of reach.

They live with intention, not impulse

One of the things I’ve noticed in people I consider truly spiritual is how deliberate they are.

They’re not perfect (who is?), but there’s a calm consistency in how they choose their words, make decisions, and move through the world.

It’s like they’ve created a bit of space between stimulus and response and that space is where their wisdom lives.

This is backed by psychology, too. According to Psychology Today, emotional regulation involves training the mind to pause before reacting. Instead of letting anger, frustration, or fear take over, we deliberately choose our response.

When you’re tuned into yourself, you’re less likely to get swept up by ego or triggered by drama.

You pause. You breathe. You respond instead of react.

In my own life, I’ve found that mindfulness—not as a buzzword, but as a daily practice—is the bridge between impulse and intention. During the most stressful periods of growing Hack Spirit, I trained myself to pause for five breaths before replying to emotionally charged emails.

It sounds small. But that single habit transformed how I handled conflict and decisions, both in business and in relationships.

They prioritize inner peace over external validation

Here’s the trap I fell into for years: thinking I needed to prove something to the world to feel good about myself.

Spiritual people aren’t immune to self-doubt, but they’ve learned to validate themselves from within. They don’t need to be praised, liked, or followed to feel worthy.

They’ve developed what I call “quiet confidence”—the kind that doesn’t demand attention but commands respect.

VeryWell Mind highlights that people with high spiritual well-being often report higher self-esteem and lower levels of anxiety because their sense of worth isn’t tied to other people’s opinions.

It’s like their compass points inward, not outward.

And once you’ve tasted that kind of peace, you don’t chase applause anymore—you choose alignment.

In my twenties, I measured my self-worth by my productivity and how much recognition I was getting. It wasn’t sustainable. It was only after I began writing honestly—about pain, ego, and imperfection—that I found a deeper peace.

Paradoxically, that’s when people connected with my work the most. Authenticity, I learned, resonates more than performance ever could.

They show up with compassion (especially when it’s hard)

I’ve talked about this before, but compassion is easy when everyone’s being nice. The real test? Staying kind when you’re tired, triggered, or hurt.

Spirituality doesn’t mean being a doormat, but it does mean recognizing the humanity in others, even when they’re being difficult.

The people I admire most spiritually have this gentle strength.

They set boundaries without cruelty. They speak their truth without shaming others. And they can hold space for someone’s pain without trying to fix or avoid it.

One of the most powerful lines I’ve come across is from Pema Chödrön: “Compassion is not a relationship between the healer and the wounded. It’s a relationship between equals.”

That shift—from hierarchy to humility—is what defines true spiritual presence.

They embrace impermanence

If you’ve read my book, Hidden Secrets of Buddhism, you know how central the concept of impermanence is to both Buddhism and my personal journey.

Spiritual people understand that everything changes: relationships, moods, careers, even identities.

They don’t try to freeze moments in time or cling to certainty. Instead, they flow with life’s natural rhythms.

That doesn’t mean they don’t grieve loss or struggle with change.

It means they don’t resist it. They trust that life isn’t meant to be controlled, it’s meant to be experienced.

One of the most freeing moments in my own spiritual path was accepting that I wouldn’t always be the same person with the same desires. I could change direction, let go of goals, and still remain true to myself. That shift helped me embrace fatherhood with fewer expectations and more presence.

They value silence and solitude

Here’s something I resisted for a long time: being alone with my thoughts.

Now, I crave it.

People who walk a spiritual path often spend time in solitude, not because they’re antisocial, but because that quiet space helps them reconnect.

They journal. They meditate. They reflect.

And not in a productivity-hack kind of way, but because they understand that wisdom arises in stillness, not noise.

Even in social situations, there’s a grounded quality to them.

They listen more than they speak. They’re not rushing to fill the silence. They’re okay with pauses.

That kind of presence is rare—and powerful.

After years of constant digital noise, I started taking silent walks in the mornings—no phone, no podcast. Just footsteps and breath. That’s when I noticed how much noise lived in my head.

The silence didn’t fix everything, but it helped me hear what I’d been ignoring: my own intuition.

They practice what they preach

Let’s be real. It’s easy to sound enlightened online.

But being spiritual isn’t about aesthetic quotes and curated morning routines. It’s about integrity.

Spiritual people don’t just talk about kindness—they live it. They don’t just meditate—they bring mindfulness into how they drive, shop, eat, and speak.

They’re not trying to be perfect, but they are trying to be real.

And when they mess up, they take responsibility.

They apologize. They reflect. They grow.

That, to me, is the deepest kind of spirituality—choosing alignment again and again, even when it’s inconvenient.

As a writer and teacher of mindfulness, I hold myself to the same practices I share with readers. That doesn’t mean I never mess up—I do, often. But I try to return to presence, own my missteps, and keep learning.

That, I believe, is where true authority comes from: not having all the answers, but being committed to asking the right questions.

Final words

There’s no single definition of what it means to be spiritual. And honestly, I think that’s the point.

It’s not a label you wear or a box you check.

It’s a way of living—curious, humble, present, and kind.

If anything in this article resonated with you, chances are, you’re already walking a spiritual path.

You might not chant mantras or burn incense (or maybe you do), but if you’re committed to showing up with heart, integrity, and purpose—you’re already there.

And if you’re still figuring it out, welcome. So am I.

We don’t need to have it all together to be on this journey.

We just need to keep showing up, one breath at a time.