Jealousy

Many years ago, I asked my friend, “What makes you feel secure in your marriage?”
She replied, “I have full confidence in my husband.”

Then she asked me the same question.
Even I was surprised by my response.
“I have confidence in myself.” What made me say that, I myself wondered. Maybe I was secure within myself for some reason.

As a child, I often felt overshadowed by the attention given to my younger brother. Being the eldest, I silently carried a sense of unfairness. These feelings stayed buried until later in life when my best friend chose someone else over me. To avoid the pain of being sidelined, I ended the friendship. It felt easier to deal with frustration than to drag it. But in doing so, I carried the weight of grudges and unresolved anger without realizing how deeply they affected me.

About fifteen years ago, I began meditating on my own. I understand that, especially in the beginning, many people find meditation difficult. But for some reason, my experience was a little different. A technique seemed to arise naturally within me, showing me what to do with closed eyes—something very similar to Kriya Level 4.

Just after fifteen days of practice, I felt my body and mind become lighter than ever before. Negative thoughts and anger dissolved like bubbles, as though they had never truly belonged to me. Yes, it was quite magical. My body and mind became light as a feather. I was filled with energy, creativity began to flow effortlessly, and along with it came immense compassion.

Old resentments disappeared, and I felt innocent again, almost like a child. The experience was deeply transformative. Conversations became simpler, and it felt as though life had handed my mind a fresh blank page once again.

After a month of this daily, blissful meditation, I felt a surprising desire, a longing for romantic intimacy. My marriage had already ended emotionally, so I wasn’t drawn to my husband. Shyam, my neighbor, had always been around, but I hadn’t noticed him that way until now. To my surprise, we both felt connected. I felt love not only for him but also for his wife and family. Strangely, I felt no jealousy. Love was overflowing through me – felt strong, not like losing myself.

Calmness became an intel part of me – every situation, even with the complex dynamics involving my husband, Shyam’s wife, and others. A profound sense of peace reassured me that everything was exactly as it should be. I felt no need to justify myself to others. Instead, I understood everyone’s perspective. I had no future plans or expectations but trusted deeply that every experience had a purpose.

During this time, I had vivid dreams of moving through a purple light, crossing dimensions toward a brilliant white light. I shared these experiences with Shyam, and he, being spiritually inclined, encouraged me. But every attempt to deepen the relationship with him faced natural resistance, as if life itself was guiding me away from it. The separation was painful, almost suffocating at times. I realized that neither God nor others were responsible for this pain—I had to go through it myself.

My longing and pain led me to Rishikesh, where I met my guru. Since then, life has never been the same, and neither have I.

Even after years of meditation, I still experience jealousy, fear, and anxiety—but they don’t affect me as they used to. Through 15 years of daily meditation, I’ve built a unique relationship with my thoughts. Most of the time, I live with them as long as I can tolerate before reacting. Other times, I react immediately but with more awareness, gentleness, and clarity. These emotions no longer drain my energy. I’ve learned to be honest with myself, and this has helped me grow into the person I am today.

Poem

In Love with Love
I am in love with the feeling of love—
It lifts me high and free.
No object to claim,
Just the joy itself in me.
No desire, no chase;
My heart is full,
I rise without a name—
In love with love, here I fly.