Jealousy

10 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. My response surprised even me. “I have confidence in myself.”At that time, I wasn’t meditating.

As a child, I often felt overshadowed by the attention given to my younger siblings, especially my 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 than dealing with the frustration or trying to manipulate the situation. But in doing so, I carried the weight of grudges and unresolved anger without realizing how deeply they affected me.

About 15 years ago, I began meditating and experienced something extraordinary. Negative thoughts dissolved as if they were never a part of me. It felt like magic. My inner conflicts disappeared, my mind became crystal clear, and my body felt light as a feather. I was filled with energy, and creativity began to flow along with immense compassion. All past resentments vanished, and I felt as innocent as a child again. It was transformative—pessimism turned into optimism. Conversations became simpler, and conflicts seemed to dissolve without much effort.

After a month of this daily, blissful meditation, I felt a surprising desire for closeness—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 a connection. Though he was married, my love wasn’t possessive. I felt love not only for him but also for his wife and family. Strangely, I felt no jealousy. Instead, I was filled with love that included everyone—my husband, Shyam’s wife, and the world around me. 

I felt strong, not like I was losing myself.

I felt calm in 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. Eventually, I wanted a closer bond, but life circumstances didn’t allow it. Every attempt to deepen the relationship 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.

As the longing grew, even a glimpse of him would fulfill me entirely. One day, I went to a party hoping to see him. When I finally saw him, everything else suddenly faded away. I stood up and started walking toward him like, as if I have been hypnotized. The voices and faces in the crowded room faded; it felt like we were the only two people in the whole world. He said something, but all I could see and feel were his eyes. Although he had to leave soon, that brief meeting stayed deeply with me.

One day, during a phone conversation, he suggested I learn kriya yoga. 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 12 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 them before reacting. Other times, I react immediately but with more awareness, gentleness, and clarity. These emotions no longer drain my energy, a sharp contrast to the hyperactive, impulsive person I once was. I’ve learned to be honest with myself, and this has helped me grow into the person I am today. Jealousy or any other emotion, I now see, has its place in teaching us who we truly are.