26/02/2026
I am reposting a letter from Jeff Foster, one of the open hearted beings i know of and who i respect.
I invite those of you who remember Clif Sanderson for comments and discussion on the topic mentioned in this writing.
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Friends, I saw behind the curtain.
For about 15 years I spent time behind the scenes with spiritual teachers and gurus, some very famous, some with very large followings. I shared meals with them, travelled with them, sat in their homes long after the audience had gone and the applause had faded. I saw them when they no longer needed to be “on”.
There are names I will not name and details I will not share, out of basic human decency. But I will say this.
Every single one of them disappointed me.
Every single one.
And I say that now with love, and with deep relief.
Let me explain.
I saw them get triggered and defensive. I heard them complain about participants and organisers. I saw anger, rage, and at times abuse, directed at staff and partners, petty arguments over money and status, jealousy, lying, extra marital affairs, unprocessed trauma. I saw the strain of trying to uphold an image, of having to be “the awakened one” in every room they entered. I saw the exhaustion and resentment that simmered underneath.
I spoke with their spouses, their children, their parents, who confirmed the gap between their public image and private reality. I came to know the flawed human beings behind the masks.
And then I watched them walk onto a stage and speak beautifully about compassion and unconditional love and unity and consciousness and going beyond being triggered and “the ending of all suffering” and stuff like that.
I saw many of them misrepresent their lives on stage. Even lie about things I had just witnessed with my own eyes.
At first it hurt. I had projected wisdom onto them. I had wanted them to be more integrated, somehow above the human mess the rest of us live in. It felt like disillusionment, even betrayal.
But that disillusionment slowly turned into relief, as they all fell off the pedestals I had placed them on. Thank goodness.
Spiritual teachers are human, as we all are. Flawed, reactive, tender, sometimes generous, sometimes petty. Sometimes at peace, sometimes angry, triggered, frustrated. Sometimes compassionate, sometimes not.
Seeing that gave me permission to stop trying to live up to an image myself. I no longer felt the need to hide my imperfections or doubts in order to look “spiritual”. I could be more honest, more embodied, more real.
Over time I noticed that the teachers who denied and hid and repressed their humanity often caused the most harm. What gets split off does not disappear. It goes underground and finds other ways to express itself, sometimes destructively, in its longing to be seen and loved.
The very few spiritual teachers I could truly trust were the ones who could admit, without drama, “I get triggered.” “I feel jealous.” “I need help.” “I doubt and forget my own teaching sometimes.” There was humility there. They could own their vulnerabilities. No pedestal, just a human being with a sensitive nervous system, a history, and an open heart.
The real gift of being disappointed was this: I stopped searching for perfect teachers, and I stopped trying to be perfect myself. It made me kinder. More open. More forgiving.
And more aware of how easily we worship an image and miss the flawed human being inside. We do it to each other, and it is not kind on any level.
I am so grateful for my experience of seeing behind the curtain. I think it helped me heal.
And if any of this unsettles or disappoints or upsets you, it may be worth asking what image just cracked, and whether that cracking is actually an opening into something more human, and much more honest.
What I found behind the curtain was not enlightenment, but more humanity.
- Jeff Foster
