I’ve been thinking a lot about integrity – not as perfection, but as alignment. A kind of soul-deep congruence between our values and our actions. And like physical alignment, we often don’t notice we’re off until something starts to hurt.
When my right hip twinges as I climb the stairs, I know my beautiful skeletal structure is out of alignment. I could ignore it – but I’ve learned the longer I wait, the worse it gets. So I do the stretches, the small corrections, the daily practices that bring me back into balance.
Soul alignment is similar.
If I say I value kindness but act in an unkind way, I feel it – somewhere in my gut, or chest, or mind. There’s a twinge. But unlike physical pain, we can soothe ourselves into ignoring that inner ache. We justify our behavior. We blame others. We dismiss the misalignment as no big deal. But every time we ignore that inner signal, it becomes easier to act out of step with our values the next time.
The misalignment grows. And with it, the gap between who we are and who we aspire to be.
I want to be clear: I’m not holding myself up as some paragon of virtue. I’ve missed the mark more often than I’d like to admit. I’ve looked the other way, stayed quiet when I should have spoken, justified things I knew didn’t sit right. And I’ve felt that internal twinge – that ache of misalignment.
But what I’ve learned is that integrity isn’t about never getting it wrong. It’s about noticing when you do, and choosing to course-correct before the distance becomes too great.
Bonus points if you pair that internal correction with an apology. An apology is like strengthening the muscles around a misaligned joint. It’s not just correction – it’s integration. It’s the moment you say: I saw how I acted. I felt my error. I’m responding to commit to becoming the best version of myself. That conscious effort – within and between – is what keeps the soul from drifting further out of place.
Integrity begins with us.
In our relationships.
In the decisions no one sees.
In the choices we make when it would be easier to look away.
And yes – we want our leaders to act with integrity. We grieve and grow angry when they don’t. And far too often, they don’t.
But integrity isn’t just political. It’s spiritual. It’s about realigning when we drift, and choosing – again and again – to return to what we know is right.
The truth is, we can’t wait for someone else to do the hard work. We must all step forward, letting our values, our sense of integrity, and our soul-light propel us into action – with our voice and with our choices. Integrity is in how we show up, especially when it’s hard.
Because what we value needs to be visible, now more than ever.
This brings me to someone whose life continues to challenge me: Dietrich Bonhoeffer.
April 9 marked the 80th anniversary of his death. Bonhoeffer was a German theologian who opposed the Nazi regime and was executed just weeks before the war in Europe ended. He had every opportunity to stay out of it. In 1939, Bonhoeffer was safely in the United States. But he chose to return to Germany to, in his words, “share the trials” of his people.
He believed in grace - but not the sentimental kind. He believed in costly grace, the kind that demands something of us. The kind that says: faith, if it is not lived, is not real.
He once said:
“If I sit next to a madman as he drives a car into a group of innocent bystanders,
I can't, as a Christian, simply wait for the catastrophe, then comfort the wounded and bury the dead. I must try to wrestle the steering wheel out of the hands of the driver.”
Bonhoeffer stood his ground – not because he had no fear, but because he had clarity.
Bonhoeffer also reminds us:
“Judging others makes us blind, whereas love is illuminating. By judging others we blind ourselves to our own evil and to the grace which others are just as entitled to as we are.”
Those words lead me to ask myself: Where am I out of alignment?
Where have I compromised what I say I believe?
Where might a twinge be calling me to return - to myself, to my soul, to what I truly value?
Most of our choices don’t carry life-or-death consequences. Maybe speaking up will bring discomfort. Maybe it risks alienating a family member, losing business, or shaking our place in a community.
But acting in alignment with who we are – who we say we are – also brings unexpected gifts. We find community. We find our voice.
We are each navigating our own spiritual geography – our own terrain of choice and consequence. But integrity has always been the compass. It may not point to what’s easy. But it always points to what is real, what is true for us.
This isn’t a call to recklessness.
It’s a call to reckoning.
For all of us.
A call to love this world enough to resist its unraveling.
To speak when silence would be easier.
To stretch toward alignment – again and again – even when it’s uncomfortable.
Even when it costs us something.
Because the world we long for – the one we hope to live in, and the one we hope to leave behind – begins not with grand gestures, but with the daily, deliberate act of choosing what’s true.
The map is yours to draw.
But integrity is always the compass.
And it points – unwaveringly – towards true north.
It points towards love.
Joni Miller, Ph.D. is a writer, researcher, spiritual coach, and speaker who uses her knowledge, education, and love of all things spiritual to help others find their unique spiritual path. www.SpiritualGeography.net
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