Superman, Spirit, and the Sacredness of Being Human
Last weekend, my husband and I went to see the new Superman movie.
I didn’t have big expectations. I just thought it might be fun — capes, popcorn, maybe a few big action sequences. But when I was getting ready that morning, I felt a quiet nudge from the Divine: Go see the movie.
It seemed like such a small, even silly thing for Spirit to weigh in on. But over the years, I’ve learned to trust those nudges, even when they don’t make immediate sense. So off we went.
And somewhere in the middle of all the plot twists, explosions, and superhero speeches, it happened.
I felt it — a gentle tap on my head.
Not hard. Not distracting. Just enough to make me feel like someone had said,
“Pay attention. This next part is for you.”
The Line That Changed Everything
Superman was talking to Lex Luthor and he said something I didn’t expect:
“The most important thing about me isn’t my powers. It’s my humanity — the fact that I get sad, or scared, or confused. That I make mistakes.”
And it was as if the whole theater disappeared.
In that moment, Spirit was speaking directly to me:
“Don’t get so hung up on doing all this supernatural stuff. Don’t focus so much on the ethereal. What is best about you is what is human about you.”
It landed with some force, but in the most tender way.
Why That Matters Right Now
We live in a time when it’s easy to feel like you have to be more than human just to keep up.
Maybe you’re in survival mode, managing illness, financial strain, loss, or heartbreak. Maybe you feel like the people around you expect you to be endlessly strong, endlessly positive, endlessly “together.”
And if you do have a spiritual life — if you meditate, pray, or do any kind of healing work — it can sometimes feel like there’s this extra pressure to be “above” human emotion.
Like if you were really enlightened, you wouldn’t feel fear. You wouldn’t get confused. You wouldn’t cry in the grocery store or lose your temper in traffic.
But here’s the truth: you don’t need to apologize for being human.
In fact, you don’t get to skip it — not if you want your life and your love to have depth. Because real connection isn’t built on flawless performance — it’s built on shared humanity.
The Temptation to Go “All Spiritual”
I’ll be honest — I’ve been tempted to lean too far into the supernatural side of my work and life.
I’m a spiritual counselor and energy healer. The mystical is my playground. I talk to Spirit, I communicate with angels and archangels. The way Spirit communicates with me isn’t what most people would call ordinary. There is beauty in that. It’s not something I want to lose.
But when I heard Superman say that what mattered most wasn’t his powers, I felt Spirit reminding me:
It’s not the mystical work that makes you worth listening to. It’s your humanity — the part of you that knows what heartbreak feels like, what fear tastes like, what it means to keep going when you’d rather quit.
Without our humanity, the spiritual stuff just floats above the surface.
It’s shiny, but it’s untethered.
Your Humanity Is Not a Weakness
Let me say this as clearly as I can:
Your sadness does not disqualify you from making a difference.
Your fear does not mean you’ve lost your faith.
Your mistakes do not mean you’ve failed.
These are the things that give your life texture. They are the places where your compassion is born.
When you’ve walked through grief, you can sit beside someone else in grief without flinching.
When you’ve known confusion, you can make space for others to find their own clarity in their own time.
When you’ve felt small, you can meet people without making them feel smaller.
That’s not weakness. That’s power — the kind that doesn’t need a cape.
Living Through Tough Times Without Apologizing
If you’re going through a hard season right now, I want you to hear this: you are not failing at life because it feels hard. You are not “less spiritual” because you have days when you can barely hold it together.
It’s okay if your prayers are messy.
It’s okay if your meditation is full of distraction.
It’s okay if your spiritual journal is full of questions with no answers.
There’s no prize for being the person who suffers silently or pretends it’s all fine.
You can bring your tears to God. You can bring your anger to Spirit. You can bring your doubt to the altar. The Divine isn’t impressed by your performance — but your honesty? That’s holy.
The Beauty of Being “Both/And”
Here’s what I believe:
We are both infinite and temporary. Both divine and human. Both made of stardust and still in need of a sandwich and a nap.
We don’t have to pick one over the other.
You don’t have to choose between being spiritual and being human.
In fact, your humanity is what allows your divinity to move through the world. It’s the soil that lets the light grow roots.
A Simple Practice to Honor Your Humanity
If you want to start celebrating your humanness instead of apologizing for it, here’s a small practice:
Name It. When you feel sad, scared, or confused, just say it out loud: “I feel scared right now.” “I feel sad.” “I feel lost.”
Bless It. Place your hand over your heart and say, “This is part of being human. And being human is sacred.”
Share It (if safe). Tell one trusted person what you’re feeling. You don’t have to explain or defend it — just let yourself be witnessed.
You might be surprised how much relief and connection comes from simply allowing yourself to be real.
The Tap on the Head
I keep thinking about that gentle tap on my head in the theater — as if Spirit wanted to make absolutely sure I didn’t miss the point.
Because yes, the supernatural is exciting. Yes, the mystical is beautiful. But the most extraordinary thing about us is not our ability to transcend our humanity.
It’s the way we live it.
Fully. Honestly. Without apology.
So the next time you’re tempted to think you should be “above” fear, grief, or confusion, remember this:
Even Superman knew that what mattered most wasn’t his powers.
It was his humanity.
And the same is true for you.