DEAR NIRMALA


The real sorrow here, in your words, is:

“I feel defeated that I could not help him love himself in spite of all I attempted to give him.” 

Ah, what a load is here! What a sense of failure! I know it well, I who have lost a husband to suicide. 

After all the sorrow and regret is felt, embraced, we must move on,  dear Nirmala, find ways to mitigate this hell, for these straits are dangerous and  illusionary. The people we love have their own complexities, compulsions, and, DESTINY. We cannot play God, cannot change the world, and the people we love in it. It is not ultimately our defeat, though we feel it is. There can be no defeat where there is love. But if we clutch too tightly in a world in which everything passes, we will have only defeat. 

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