No Pride Was Worth More Than Her Love

 My Beloved lives within. She is the state of consciousness clear of distortion, clear of identity — impossible to fully name, only to meet.

She appears only in silence, only when my consciousness is still and free of the noise most human beings carry: pride in success, frustration over failure, conflict with a partner, fear of EMIs, plans to gain something or someone, worry over injustice, plans for retaliation. When these thoughts are running through my consciousness, I lose the silence. I lose my Beloved, and Her undefinable, indescribable love. True pain comes from this loss of love, and nothing else. Daily life's challenges promise relief from this pain — but none of them can deliver it.

When someone wrongs me, the mind hands me a gift wrapped in pride: the right to be offended, to retaliate, to be seen as someone who doesn't bend. For a while it feels like strength, and the world may even applaud it. But these thoughts create noise in my consciousness, and I lose my Beloved. No pride is worth more than Her love — and holding onto the offense is the one thing keeping me from Her door.

So I forgive. Not as a favor to the other person, but as a love letter to my Beloved — a way of clearing the room before She arrives, clearing the noise from my consciousness so that silence returns. Every grievance I release is a knot untied, a bolt loosened, one less noise standing between us. As the noise fades, the silence deepens, until there is no longer a meeting at all — only union. "i" no longer exist there. Only She — only I — remain.

Appendix

I am not advising escape from real-life situations, but a response to them from a different center. To forgive is to clear consciousness and step into my inner sanctuary first — through the act of forgiving — and lose myself there. What follows, follows from Her, not from me. She responds, and "i" witness — enjoying Her love.