Nazar, Ego, and the Illusion of Control: What True Spiritual Surrender Actually Looks Like
A friend visited me at work, and it was a grand day, the kind of day that makes you a little too aware of how good it feels, and right there, in that small warm moment, an old fear slipped in, quiet as a current under still water - what if this good fortune pulls something toward it that takes it away. Almost every culture carries a version of this instinct, the evil eye, nazar, the old superstition of not saying good news out loud too soon, different names for the same reflex, the moment life feels too good some part of us flinches and braces for the cost, the way a hand pulls back from water before it even knows if it's cold. I caught the thought mid-loop, and instead of following it downstream, I let it dissolve into something simpler - if the joy stays, that's grace, and if it doesn't, that's also grace, and who am I to decide which way the water moves, who am I to assume I even have a task in this. I am nothing without that which holds me. Whatever happens, I am ...