The Silent Fire of Pride
by Kateb Nuri-Alim Shunnar
Pride is a sly flame, flickering at first, then blazing out of control when fed too long. It has a way of whispering sweet nothings, convincing you that you're untouchable, wrapping itself in confidence and calling it strength. But unlike true confidence, pride doesn’t build it separates. It piles up bricks of ego until you’re walled in, looking out at the world through a small, distorted window.
The soul, at its core, is meant to flow freely like streams merging into rivers, eventually joining the vastness of the ocean. But pride? It dams up the flow, cutting us off from the source of life. It tricks us into thinking we don’t need anyone or anything beyond ourselves, leaving us stranded in spiritual drought. A thirsty soul is a lonely soul, and pride is often the thirst that refuses to admit it’s parched.
I’ll admit it I sometimes let pride get in my way. I often get bitten by the bug of pride and ego, those sly little devils that sneak in when I least expect them. But here’s the thing: I’ve been working on this. Over the years, through patience, prayer, and moments of raw honesty with myself, I’ve learned to catch myself. I’ve learned to step back, breathe, and check my heart when pride starts whispering lies. It’s not always easy, but it’s worth it.
Strength isn’t found in clinging to the ego. Real power comes in letting go in surrendering to the infinite, in recognizing that we are but specks in the grand cosmos. Pride tries to blind us to this truth, telling us we’re the center of the universe. But clinging to control and dominance robs us of the peace that comes from dancing to the rhythm of divine wisdom. Instead, we stomp around offbeat, wondering why life feels like chaos.
When pride takes over, it’s like an emotional vacuum compassion gets sucked out, and judgment rushes in to take its place. Suddenly, we’re quick to criticize, slow to forgive, and allergic to love. Relationships crack under the weight of refusing to admit, “Hey, maybe I’m wrong,” and the soul, made for connection, buckles under the strain of isolation.
But here’s the beautiful thing: the Creator doesn’t hold grudges. There’s always a way back, no matter how far we’ve strayed. The return journey starts with humility not groveling, but a gentle unlearning of ego’s lies. Humility is that quiet strength that whispers, “You don’t have to have all the answers.” It’s the secret sauce that opens the door to grace, healing, and, honestly, better relationships.
The spiritual journey isn’t about adding layers it’s about peeling them back. Pride loves to add filters, convincing us we’re shinier than we are. But humility invites us to wipe those smudges clean and see what’s underneath. It asks tough questions: Have we placed ourselves on pedestals? Dismissed wisdom because it didn’t come in the packaging we expected? Closed off our hearts to protect a false sense of control? Answering these isn’t fun, but it’s how we free our souls from the weight of pride.
At its core, pride is just fear wearing a fancy coat. Fear of being weak. Fear of losing what we think we’ve earned. Fear of being vulnerable. But the divine doesn’t ask us to be fearless; it asks us to be faithful. There’s a big difference. Faith says, “Even if I mess up, I’ll still be held.” Fear says, “If I mess up, I’ll lose everything.”
Picture the lotus flower. It blooms beautifully, not by dominating the mud but by drawing nourishment from it. That’s how spiritual growth works too. We don’t rise by stepping on others or pretending the mud doesn’t exist; we rise by embracing the mess, trusting that divine light will transform it into something beautiful. Pride keeps us stuck, but humility lets us bloom.
A soul unshackled by pride is like a polished mirror, perfectly reflecting the divine. It’s open to wisdom, drenched in love, and calm in its peace. Pride fogs up that mirror, distorting the reflection until we forget what we’re even looking at. But a humble spirit wipes the glass clean, allowing us to see the truth not just about ourselves, but about the divine spark in everything around us.
Letting go of pride isn’t about losing yourself. It’s about rediscovering your truest self the one that’s always been connected, whole, and deeply loved. It’s realizing you’re a thread in the divine tapestry, and the tapestry doesn’t work if threads go rogue. Strength doesn’t come from standing alone; it comes from weaving yourself into something greater.
So, here’s to facing the fire of pride not with shame, but with a sense of humor. Let it burn off the nonsense we’ve been carrying around, clearing space for the real stuff: love, connection, and purpose. Let us laugh at our own stubbornness, admit we’re not the center of the universe, and embrace the humility that sets us free.
May we walk the path of surrender with light hearts and open hands. Because when we lay down our pride, we’re not losing anything we’re gaining everything.
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