This evening, I met a friend in a quiet public space. We exchanged New Year wishes and spoke for a few moments. I sensed a heaviness in him. When I asked, he said the uncertainty created by world leaders was disturbing him. Every other day, some announcement, some tension, some invisible threat. It feels as though the ground beneath life itself is shaking.
He asked how this year had begun for me.
I told him about midnight, how we usually turn inward when the clock touches twelve, whispering prayers into the unknown. This year, something unusual happened. For a few minutes, rain poured down heavily. Then it stopped, as though nothing had occurred. The sky became still again. I said it made me strangely happy. It felt like a gentle sign, as if existence itself had smiled. “Maybe something good is going to happen for everyone,” I said.
He paused and nodded. “Yes,” he replied, “it rained in many cities at the same time. Just for a few minutes.” That was all we spoke.
But as I walked away, a deeper conversation unfolded within me.
I saw how scenes grow harsher day by day, how people carry so much hidden fire, how they choose voices and the leaders that inflame rather than heal. We endlessly speak about other countries, other governments, other people. We rarely look at our own inner posture. We believe someone in one corner of the world is responsible for all suffering, and that someone in another corner must arise to save us. We wait for change to arrive from outside.
But if each one of us dropped even a little hatred, where would the problem remain? We live in an age saturated with religion, yet much suffering moves in its name. Those who pray often fail to see the divine in themselves and in others. If one truly saw God in every face, cruelty could not survive. Indifference would dissolve. Kindness would become natural.
If we softened anger, arrogance, jealousy, ignorance, and possessiveness, even slightly, we would touch a different dimension of life. The state of pure consciousness is not distant. It is already here. We simply refuse to pause long enough to notice. And yet, this is only one side of the story.
On the other side, something luminous is unfolding. Quietly, without noise or headlines, countless people are awakening. In ordinary homes, in simple lives, men and women are discovering the stillness of I Am. They are tasting a bliss that does not depend on the world’s condition. While outer peace appears to weaken, inner light is growing brighter each day.
This world is a play.
If everything were smooth and pleasant, many would remain absorbed in surfaces, never turning inward. The friction, the contrast, the apparent chaos serve a deeper movement. They turn attention back upon itself. They invite consciousness to seek a higher way of living, a life free from ignorance and unnecessary suffering, a life rooted in the peace that is always available, here and now.
Good and bad are not enemies. They are two movements of the same dance. When this is seen, resistance softens. Gratitude arises, not because everything is pleasant, but because everything is guiding us back to our own Being. That Being is untouched by the misery of the world.
In it, nothing is broken.
In it, nothing is missing.