I’m Not Less Spiritual. I Just Found a Better Word
“Spirituality” stopped making sense. I needed something more grounded, trauma-informed, and real.
Can we talk about the word “spirituality”? Because I kind of hate it.
I’ve used it in the past. I still use it sometimes. But every time I do, a part of me winces.
The word has been stretched so far that it’s lost its shape.
It doesn’t really mean anything anymore. Not clearly. Not usefully. Not in the way I need it to.
It’s too vague, too loaded, too easily hijacked by dogma, magical thinking, or fluff.
So I’ve been searching for something better—something that actually describes what this path looks like in real life, and what it feels like from the inside.
After months of reflection, the best phrase I could come up with was this:
Values-Based Self-Cultivation.
Yeah, it’s clunky. It doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue. But it gets closer to the truth.
It points toward trauma healing, nervous system regulation, and emotional maturity. It hints at integrity—at showing up, practicing daily (and imperfectly), and slowly becoming the kind of person you actually want to be.
Still, let’s be real: Values-Based Self-Cultivation is a mouthful. It’s not going viral anytime soon.
So I kept searching. And eventually, I landed on a classical Chinese term that says everything I need it to:
xiūxíng (修行)
For over two thousand years, xiūxíng has been used in Daoist and Buddhist traditions to describe the inner journey—not a quest for enlightenment or transcendence, but for real, embodied transformation.
It literally means “to cultivate the path” or “to refine your way of life.”
It refers to the lifelong work of aligning your actions, energy, and awareness with something deeper—whether that’s called the Dao, awakening, or simply becoming a better human. This isn’t fluff—it’s a grounded, classical concept that captures exactly what many of us mean when we talk about personal or spiritual growth.
In American English, it’s pronounced kind of like shoo-shing:
xiū sounds like “shooing away a fly.”
xíng sounds like the start of the word “shingles.”
My Mandarin is rusty, but here’s me saying it at about a B- level:
What I love about xiūxíng is that it’s grounded. It’s human. It’s not about belief or branding.
It’s about how you live.
In that sense, it’s closer to Socrates’ idea of a philosophy of life—something practical that helps us navigate the world and live well. Socratic philosophy wasn’t about abstract theory or belonging to a system; it was about daily practice, self-examination, and living with integrity.
Xiūxíng fits.
It’s about how you breathe. How you respond when you’re triggered. How you move through grief, fear, confusion, or rage.
It’s about facing the parts of yourself you buried to stay safe. About feeling again in the places you’ve gone numb.
It means sitting with discomfort—without fixing, fleeing, or numbing—until something inside begins to soften.
It means finding the courage to stay present with your own mess.
At least, that’s what it means to me. And that’s what my tai chi practice is really about.
In the past, when I’d say I practiced tai chi for “spiritual cultivation,” it never felt quite right. It sounded performative. Like I was borrowing someone else’s language instead of speaking from my own experience.
But now I’ll say this: I practice tai chi for xiūxíng.
For showing up. For growing up. For working through the layers of fear, tension, and reactivity that get in the way of clarity and compassion.
And that feels real.
If “spirituality” still works for you, great. I’m not here to take it away.
But if it feels hollow, co-opted, or just not quite you—try using xiūxíng and see what happens.
Or if you’ve found a better word for this path, I’d honestly love to hear it below.
About me: I’m Sifu Anthony, a longtime teacher of qigong and tai chi, and a bestselling author. These arts pulled me out of depression and chronic pain when nothing else worked. Now I teach students from all over the world, mostly online. I live in New Mexico with my dog, my garden, and a stunning view of the Sandia mountains. More about me →
Free & Low-Cost Resources
🔹 Learn One of the Best Qigong Exercises Around (Free) – This is the exercise I teach more than any other. It’s simple, powerful, and a great place to start if you’re new—or to return to if you’ve fallen off track. You can learn it today in less than 10 minutes.
📖 My Book ($10–$17) – I wrote this book for the younger version of myself—the one who was lost and hurting. He desperately needed all of this information presented in a clear and honest way. I’m grateful it has received hundreds of kind reviews on Amazon—it’s now one of the best-reviewed qigong books out there. I think it’s because the book speaks directly to that struggle. If you’re looking for something that actually works, this might be it. It also comes with free video lessons to help you get started.
📜 13 Proven Benefits of Qigong & Tai Chi (Free PDF) – This free PDF summarizes the research behind qigong and tai chi. If you’re looking for scientific validation—or just want to share something solid with a skeptical friend—this is a great resource.
Xiuxing is often used as a way to describe someone's composure in arguments, like "my xiuxing is not enough yet, and that's why I acted out", or a verb to get more composure, "I need to do more xiuxing so I won't be reactive"
I grew up around mandarin speakers and never really connected the phrase xiuxing to the path until now. The way the dao is embedded in everyday language in eastern societies is enlightening sometimes.
I haven't read him in awhile, but I believe Eckhart Tolle comments that it's our human need for labels that both allows communication and completely derails communication. Any pre-existing label you use will have layers of meaning. Any new label will come to have layers of meaning. If only we would share how we want it to make us feel instead of relying on labels. :) A tree doesn't need us to call it a tree to be a tree... LOL I love your concept with or without a label.