How Knowing Your Spiritual Path Changes Everything — Including Where You Work

Spirituality in everyday life looks nothing like what most people imagine. It’s not a Sunday morning practice or a shelf with meaningful objects on it — or at least, it’s not only those things.

Once a spiritual path is genuinely yours, it stops being a compartment. It becomes the framework everything else runs on.

The job I had to leave

A few years ago, I was working for a defence organisation. Good money. Interesting technical challenges. Perfectly reasonable colleagues.

And I couldn’t stay.

It wasn’t a dramatic realisation. It crept up on me — a low-level discomfort that I kept trying to reason away. This is just work. Everyone makes compromises. You’re not personally doing anything wrong.

But the discomfort didn’t go. Because once you’ve done the inner work — once you actually know what your values are and what you’re willing to stand on — it becomes very difficult to unknow it. My values are rooted in care, in healing, in the kind of work that adds something to the world rather than removing from it. Defence work, however well-intentioned, didn’t fit. I knew it. My path knew it.

So I left.

What spirituality in everyday life actually does

It doesn’t just give you something to do on feast days. It gives you a framework for the whole of your life — a way of making decisions that is genuinely yours rather than borrowed from an institution or a culture or someone else’s expectations.

For me, that shows up in obvious ways and in subtle ones. I choose employers carefully, with values alignment as a genuine criterion. My mornings begin with what I think of as a sacred shower — not because there’s anything mystical about hot water and soap, but because I’ve learned to use that time intentionally, to arrive in the day rather than just stumble into it. I touch the earth regularly — literally, feet on grass, hands in soil — because grounding is not a metaphor for me, it’s a practice. And yes, I ask Brigid for help with technical issues at work. She’s a goddess of the forge and of craft. She’s interested. She helps.

None of this looks like spirituality from the outside. That’s the point.

A real spiritual path is lived, not performed

The difference between a spiritual practice you perform and a spiritual path you live is exactly this — the lived path shapes the ordinary things. The work you take on. The boundaries you hold. The way you start your day. The people you allow close.

It took me years to build something like this. The Guided Path is designed to give you a structured, supported start — six months of live calls, workbooks, community, and Brigid as your guide — so you don’t have to find your way alone the way I did.

The founding cohort starts in two weeks. This is the last post before we begin.

If you’ve been considering it, now is the time.

[Find out more about The Guided Path]

The Inner Work of Women’s Spiritual Leadership

Yes, we are continuing on this series of women’s spiritual leadership. This week, looking at the inner work involved. Look, some of the things I was seeing online and elsewhere around Imbolc have inspired this. And even if you don’t feel called to leadership,. let these articles inform your choice of leader! (previous posts are here, here, and here)

Navigating Power, Vulnerability, and Growth

There’s a part of leadership that nobody prepares you for: the way the role rearranges your inner world. On the outside, the tasks are clear enough. Hholding ritual, making decisions, guiding conversations, offering perspective. But inside, women’s spiritual leadership opens complicated doors.

Old patterns wake up. Tender places ask for attention. You discover that holding space for others requires you to hold deeper space for yourself: the kind that can feel both tender and fierce at the same time. Remember, Brigid is a firm proponent of the slap to the back of the head technique when we’re not listening! And she is particularly adept at highlighting when I’m not attending to the inner work. Spiritual leadership requires it. Trust me.

I used to think leadership was something I would “grow into,” like a coat that would eventually fit. Now I think of it more like a landscape I walk through daily, one that changes with the weather of my life and the seasons of my soul. Some days are clear and bright; everything feels simple. Other days are fogged with self‑doubt or pricked by old memories. Nothing is wrong when that happens. It’s just the terrain reminding me that inner work is not a separate practice from leadership. It is the heart of it.

A green background allows various shades of green to reflect a hill, a path, some trees. A black female figure walks the land. This is the Inner Work of Women’s Spiritual Leadership

The Tension Between Humility and Self‑Erasure

Many women were raised to make ourselves small so that others could be comfortable. Then we step into leadership and try to reconcile confidence with care, visibility with gentleness, authority with humility. It can be easy to mistake self‑erasure for virtue. But humility is not the silence of your power; it is the clarity with which you use it. It’s standing in your centre without inflation or apology, refusing to dominate the room, but also refusing to abandon it. When we address the inner work of women’s spiritual leadership, we have to acknowledge this tension.

And ok – sometimes you need to dominate the room. And other times you need to abandon said room. But horses for courses, ok?

When that old impulse to shrink arrives, and for many of us, it does, I take it as a signal to slow down and check in:

Am I avoiding clarity because I fear I will be judged?

Am I softening my language so I won’t be called “too much”?

Leadership asks for honesty here. Sometimes the most ethical, generous thing you can do is to speak plainly and trust the strength of the space you’re holding.

For some of us, speaking plainly comes more easily than others, but it’s a skill worth cultivating.

Meeting the Old Stories with New Courage

Women’s spiritual leadership often collides with old narratives:

🔥the teacher who didn’t believe you,

🔥a priest who shamed your questions,

🔥the community that rewarded your helpfulness but punished your voice.

Those memories don’t always arrive as thoughts. Sometimes they show up as a squeezing in the chest, a need to over‑explain, a jitter under the skin that makes you rush when you could move slowly. The inner work of women’s spiritual leadership can escalate these feelings. It rarely reduces them.

When that happens, I don’t treat it as failure. I treat it as information. The body remembers what the mind tries to tidy away. I ask:

What age is this reaction?

Whose voice am I hearing?

What do I need now to meet this moment as the woman I am, not the girl I was?

Sometimes the answer is a breath and a glass of water. It can be cancelling a commitment and going to the land. Sometimes it is calling a trusted peer who will remind me of what is true. And occasionally, it’s arriving on a friend’s doorstep in floods of tears, begging for help.

Intuition and Discernment

Spiritual leadership invites intuition to sit at the table. But intuition is not infallible, and discernment is not the enemy of mystery. I often imagine these two as companions walking with me: intuition bringing the spark and the knowing, discernment asking the kind of questions that keep us honest. What else could be true? What do I know for sure? Is this mine or does it belong to the other person? Where is my edge here?

Women are often praised for intuition and not taught the discipline of discernment. The truth is we need both. Intuition opens doors we didn’t know existed. Discernment checks that we have the keys we need, the consent we require, and the capacity to walk through without doing harm.

Or, in the words of an ex-colleague of mine: just because it smells like shit, doesn’t mean it will promote growth.

Shadow Work as an Ethical Practice

Shadow is not a moral failing; it’s the part of us that prefers to be unseen. In leadership, shadow can look like subtle superiority (“I know best”), quiet resentment (“I give more than I receive”), or slippery avoidance (“If I’m kind enough, I won’t have to set the boundary”). The work isn’t to banish these impulses; it’s to notice them early and choose differently.

I think of shadow work as a daily hygiene: a quick scan for contractions in the body, a look for places where I’m seeking approval rather than truth, a willingness to say, “I was wrong,” while the moment is still fresh enough to repair. This is not self‑punishment. It’s devotion to clean leadership, the kind that leaves people more sovereign, not more dependent.

Of course, there is deeper shadow work I have done, am doing and will do in the future. That’s normal and human. But it’s also the daily check ins we so often forget. The inner work of women’s spiritual leadership very often forces more shadow work upon us, as we work through the old torments.

The Land, the Body, and the Gods

When the inner weather turns, I go outside if I can. I’m privileged to have a garden that allows this. The land has a way of re‑sizing my concerns and returning me to proportion. I walk until my breath finds me. Put my hand on a tree and listen. Make a drink and watch the steam. (Or I make a drink and appreciate the taste of the grapes in the wine…) Simple practices. Old practices. The body follows the land’s lead. The nervous system remembers what safety feels like when we move slowly and pay attention.

If you are a devotee of gods or saints, bring them into this, not as a task to perform, but as companionship. I don’t ask the divine to erase my humanity. I spent too long remembering that humanity! Instead, I ask for the courage to inhabit it with grace. Leadership doesn’t require us to be perfect. It asks us to be honest, to keep learning, and to return again and again to the practices that make us kind, clear, and steady.

The Inner Work of Women’s Spiritual Leadership: A Quiet Benediction

If you are a woman stepping into spiritual leadership, know this: the parts of you that tremble are not disqualifying. The tremble is evidence that you care. The path you’re walking is not about becoming untouchable; it’s about becoming trustworthy, which is a very different thing. Trustworthiness grows in the soil of felt reality, the days you tell the truth gently, repair quickly, and choose groundedness over performance.

Your inner landscape will keep changing as the seasons change. Let it. Let it teach you. Make you a leader who carries warmth without burning, clarity without cutting, and power without pretending you never doubted. That’s leadership people can breathe around. That’s leadership that heals.

Women’s Spiritual Leadership Ethics

How to Guide Others with Integrity and Care

If the last two pieces explored responsibility and visibility, this one turns inward, toward conscience. I appreciate that women’s spiritual leadership ethics is a mouthful. And not really that sexy. Not the lofty, abstract kind of post, but the everyday conscience that sits beside you when someone asks, “What should I do?”

Anyone who guides others, whether they’re a priest, celebrant, coach, elder, or simply the woman people turn to when everything is falling apart, eventually confronts the ethical weight of that question. Women’s spiritual leadership ethics live right at the heart of that moment.

I’ve never believed that ethics are a dusty set of rules. They’re a way of walking. They’re the shape integrity takes when things get complicated. So rather than a manual or a code, what follows is really a conversation. With yourself, with the people you support, and with the role you inhabit, intentionally or otherwise.

A green background, with the shape of a woman with her hair in a bun in black with a yellow tulip shaped flower in her torso and rays of green surrounding the flower. Women's spiritual leadership ethics come from within us!

This surprises no-one, right?

Ethical guidance always begins with consent, and not the soft, implied kind that arises because someone keeps talking and you’re the nearest steady presence. Consent in spiritual work means clarity: what are you actually doing together? Are you sharing a perspective, or offering direction? Are you teaching, or simply witnessing? Without this clarity, guidance can slip quietly into control, even when your tone is gentle and your intentions are good. Consent also includes the right to stop, to pause, and to protect your own boundaries. This is a crucial part of women’s spiritual leadership ethics, which refuses the old pattern of women giving endlessly until they are emptied.

Knowing Your Limits

Again, I preach this over and over. Don’t teach what you don’t know. One of the most ethical things a guide can do is recognise when something is outside their lane. There are moments when what a person truly needs belongs to a therapist, a doctor, a solicitor, or a crisis service, not to you. There are times when a question falls outside your tradition or your experience. Staying in your lane isn’t a lack of courage. It’s integrity. It keeps people safer than any impulse to be the one who knows everything ever could.

If someone comes to me looking for Brigid as a link to Maman Brigitte? I’m steering clear of that. There may be a link, but I haven’t experienced it and my experience with voudoun is zero. So I’m not going there.

Power, Transparency, and the Quiet Responsibilities of Leadership

Even when you don’t intend to hold power, people may place it in your hands simply because you listen well or speak clearly. That’s part of the nature of spiritual leadership. One of the gentlest antidotes to unconscious power is transparency. When you make your process visible, and by that I mean: how you make decisions, what informs your perspective, what your boundaries are around time, availability, confidentiality, and money. Once you make your process visible, you invite trust instead of projection. Transparency keeps the ground steady under both of you, and it’s a core principle within ethical women’s spiritual leadership, where clarity replaces authority for authority’s sake.

I try to present myself online as I do in real life. It’s not always possible. I mean, very few people have seen me mid-tummy bug for example. But I try to keep it real. And I also try to let people know what they’re getting into when they start working with me. Because I know I’m not for everyone. No one is.

Keeping Stories Sacred

If someone offers you their truth – the raw, vulnerable, complicated version – it is not material for content or conversation elsewhere. Honouring privacy is one of the deepest spiritual acts in any leadership role. If you’re unsure whether you can share a story, then you can’t. When people know their story will not be used to polish your persona or fuel your next online post, they can soften, breathe, and do the work they came to do.

And even when I do share stories, they’re anonymised. I try to keep it at the level of “I’m talking to many women who…” rather than “here’s a story that happened to a follower of mine”. I hope the difference there is obvious.

Navigating Money Without Shame or Manipulation

Money and spirituality tend to make people twitchy, but ethics demand we address them honestly. And this is an area I struggle with.

Some things belong in the realm of gift: the quick blessing, the small kindness, the simple moment of support. But they are also voluntary. Not required. People might demand all they like, but no matter what leadership position you are in, you owe nobody anything!

Other work requires actual labour, skill, and emotional energy, and that work deserves to be paid for. There is nothing unethical about charging fairly for the work you have trained for. What matters is clarity and the refusal to use fear, urgency, or spiritual scarcity as sales tactics. In women’s spiritual leadership ethics, coercion has no home. And that goes both ways, from leader and practitioner or client.

Supporting Sovereignty, Not Dependency

If someone cannot make a decision without you, something is off. Ethical guidance strengthens a person’s own discernment rather than replacing it with yours. You may offer insight, name what you see, or open doors they hadn’t considered. But ultimately, the work is to help them hear their own wisdom. And, most importantly, to step back far enough that they can trust it. A guide who celebrates when someone no longer needs them is a guide who understands the heart of the work.

You don’t control other people’s lives and sometimes – it’s time to cut the chord. Gently, sometimes, but firmly.

Repairing Harm With Humility

Even with the best intentions, harm sometimes happens. A poorly timed question, a misunderstood suggestion, a ritual that opens more than someone can integrate… It’s part of the territory. Ethics doesn’t promise perfection; it promises repair. Repair means listening without defensiveness, apologising with clarity, and taking responsibility for your part. If we expect those we guide to grow, then we must model what real accountability looks like.

We can all cause harm. We all do, just by living. When you know better, do better, remember? Women’s spiritual leadership ethics demand more than the traditional male model. It’s important to consider this. We’re not looking to recreate, we’re looking to do better.

And sometimes there’s harm you can’t heal. Learn from it. Be humble. Do better next time.

Tending Your Own Practice

This comes down the list, but it’s probably one of the most important topics to consider. Fill your own cup before you pour from empty.

One of the quiet dangers of guiding others is neglecting your own spiritual life. It is far too easy to become the mentor who never returns to their own well. But exhaustion, isolation, and disconnection erode ethics faster than anything else. A spiritual leader who doesn’t nurture their own practice becomes brittle. Make space to study, to pray, to reflect, to be a beginner again. Ethics rests on honesty, and honesty is impossible without a living, breathing spiritual life beneath it.

Self-care is community care.

The Need for Community

And following on from that…

No one leads ethically in isolation. Community challenges us, steadies us, and keeps us from drifting into our own unchecked authority. Whether your work is rooted in a lineage or built from your lived experience, you need peers who are not impressed by you. Community keeps the edges of our ethics sharp and reminds us that leadership is not about perfection.

It is about service.

The Quiet Test

In the end, it all comes back to something simple: after an interaction, can you sit quietly with yourself? Can you meet your own eyes without the small wince that says you crossed a line? If the answer is yes, good. If there’s a stone in your stomach, look again.

Ethics is not a declaration. It is the daily choice to be clean with your power, generous with your care, and honest about your limits. Guiding others is beautiful work, and it is serious work. May we carry it with humility. May we leave people more sovereign than we found them. And may our footprints mark a path that feels safe for those who follow.

Women’s Spiritual Leadership Ethics

I said earlier that we’re not looking to re-form the traditional male model of spiritual leadership. I meant it. We’re not holding ourselves to those standards.

We’re doing better. That means community first. It means clarity, transparency, accountability. Being able to look at ourselves in the mirror. Being aware when the Overton window is shifting – and correcting it when necessary.

This is about being the leaders we needed earlier in our lives, and developing into the leaders we’re going to need going forward. Doing the work, bit by bit.