In unsettled times, it can be tempting to look for answers outside of the everyday. Yet what is required is something simpler and more demanding: decency. This short essay reflects on why proper behavior is not separate from the spiritual path, but its quiet foundation.
“The whole thing is not about heroism. It may seem a ridiculous idea, but the only way to fight the plague is with decency.” Albert Camus, The Plague, 1947
In an age when consideration for others seems to be disappearing from public life, the question of decency becomes urgent rather than quaint.
People embark on spiritual paths for many reasons. Some seek meaning and insight, others try to escape pain. Certain meditative or contemplative states can produce a genuine sense of connection to something abundant and sustaining; it can also bring unexpected gifts of healing and clairvoyance.
But these openings can also become points of confusion. The calm, openness, or expanded awareness that arises may lead some seekers to believe they are special, “chosen”, or exempt from ordinary moral constraints.
History, and the daily news, offer many examples of where this confusion can lead. Charismatic teachers and gurus, some of whom may indeed possess unusual gifts of presence and healing, can become objects of devotion for those who feel lost or vulnerable. In such situations, the guru him- or herself, soaking in the adoration, runs the risk of assuming godlike powers, above human concerns and constraints. This can cause great harm to the acolytes, the cause, and eventually to the guru. The followers, meanwhile, when surrendering discernment in favor of an imagined savior, place themselves in real peril, particularly when power is abused. We have seen this pattern repeat itself again and again.
Spirit is not separate from matter; spirit informs matter and expresses itself through how we live, speak, and act. Any spirituality that bypasses ordinary ethical responsibility is not elevated—it is distorted.
Each of us has an obligation to behave decently. The basic rules are not mysterious. They have been articulated for centuries: in the Ten Commandments, in ethical teachings across cultures and religions, and most simply in the Golden Rule: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.
There are two dimensions to this. The first is obvious: decency is the right way to behave, honoring life and its inhabitants.
The second is more subtle and often more persuasive for a sincere seeker: violations of fundamental ethical principles directly undermine our inner life and derail our spiritual path. Harm done through speech, gossip, manipulation, violence or exploitation, even when subtle, clouds awareness and ultimately denies us the light. The forces of good and evil also operate in the spiritual and metaphysical realms. Choosing the wrong path brings unpleasant consequences. The higher you go the greater the responsibility, just like life; adults are held to a different standard then children. The greater the height from which we fall, the more damage done to ourselves and to others.
Some actions cannot be undone. The harm they cause is irreversible. Other actions may be corrected through apology, restitution, and sincere repentance. By repentance, I do not mean endless self-flagellation. I mean taking responsibility, seeing clearly what was done, and making a firm commitment not to repeat the harm.
At times, decency itself becomes an act of courage. It can seem small or inadequate in the face of overwhelming forces—political brutality, social cruelty, societal upheaval, institutional injustice. Yet it is anything but weak.
We see this courage most clearly not in grand gestures, but in the actions of ordinary people. When meanness spills out of public life, it is often everyday citizens who quietly restore balance. A foreign-born woman in the Midwest, swept up in an ICE raid, is spared because her community values her and defends her. Public outrage often erupts, not from ideology, but from conscience.
Again and again, when institutions do not step up it is neighbors, coworkers, and strangers who draw a moral line and refuse to let inhumanity and casual cruelty pass unchallenged.
“I have no idea what’s awaiting me, or what will happen when this all ends. For the moment I know this: there are sick people and they need curing.” Albert Camus, The Plague 1947
In my own work with sound and vibration, I have learned that a tone that is forced, manipulative, or self-serving carries strain within it; the body recognizes this immediately. The same is true of human behavior. When our actions are out of alignment with conscience, something within us tightens and dulls. When we act with decency, there is a subtle return to resonance.
©2025 Shulamit Elson