Hyper-ability in Path and Practice; You Can But Should You?

Awareness of a certain thought pattern has plagued me recently. A notion of hyper-ability, almost as if in response to rest days or feeling unwell. This feeling, it is a blinding need to do everything, whether it’s something I’ve been wanting to do for fun or an obligation, in that present moment simply because I am able to do it then. I do not think I am alone in having this experience- perhaps it’s a result of the fast paced life the world pushes on us, maybe it’s related to being neurodivergent, but it also could be a twisted fear of missing out and future inability. But I wanted to talk about this in relation to spiritual paths specifically, and how we often lose sight of divine timing (regardless of what one defines as such) due to factors such as perfectionism, unrealistic expectations or comparing ourselves to others. A lot of us carry so much pain around meeting expectations, of “proving” that we’re worth the time of others or that we deserve to occupy the space we take up. This manifests, for me at least, as an internal monologue that devolves into self-deprecation very fast. As if I have somehow failed because I did not produce or do even though I (theoretically, and this is something we’ll come back to) could.

We fear waiting, and we are ashamed of needing reassurance during that period of anticipation. This modern age of constant content availability, of carefully tailored looks into the lives of others, can dissuade rather than inspire us in our magical practice. It’s easy to get caught up into thinking years, or even decades of work that someone has lovingly put in are comparable to your own journey of a few months. We focus on the results, what we perceive to be true about someone and the spiritual content they present to the world, without considering that they too are trapped into an animated meatsuit and an existence outside documenting certain aspects of their magic. But is waiting so bad? We don’t need to cling to urgency. You’d think as an archaeologist, as a death worker, I would be the embodiment of patience and being in tune with the passage of time as one of many factors of life. But no. I get antsy and compare and judge myself if I think that I’m capable of doing something but cannot bring myself to do it, or “fail” at doing it. 

In my mind, everything is so linear. “You have hours of free time, there’s nothing pressing, you’ve had your morning coffee. Why aren’t you working on the pages for your divination? You’ve been wanting to do these for months. What are you? Stupid? Lazy?” By the time I’ve sat at my desk to open the page, I have built up so much pressure and so many expectations that I am scared, and it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. But why do I need to do something just because I have the morning free? Why can’t I just enjoy the quiet? Have I failed forever just because I can’t do something right now? Why do intrusive thoughts rooted in unjust expectations supersede my faith in my spirit and the Unseen who guide me? Yes, I may be able to do something in theory, but is it the right time for it? Let us use plants as an example, because I love children of root. We are technically able to transplant something in winter, but even novice gardeners will tell you that it’s a bad idea. Why? It’s not the right time. Simple as that. You can’t argue with nature. But aren’t we of nature also? Why do we argue with ourselves?

And who says that we must constantly be doing something magically significant to be content in our spiritual path? So many of my friends tell me that they cherish the simple, daily moments of their path with a different kind of joy. Whether that is tending to any altars you keep, your daily divination or communicating with entities or deities you’re close with, is there not holiness in those times? Aren’t those just as significant and meaningful as grand rituals? A while ago, I wrote an article titled Ceaseless Productivity: Creating out of Fear. It tackled a similar issue, the pressure to constantly be present online simply because I happen to be offering readings as a form of supplementary income. Ability should not be the deciding factor on whether or not we should do something, and it’s certainly not a measure of moral failure. The pressure to create is artificial, taught to us by external forces, and something we should work to unlearn. So is the internal monologue of judgement and shame for not doing even though we are “able” to.