By Gonny 
Before we’ve even had our first sip of coffee, the headlines arrive. Another shooting. Another display of power. Another story of people reduced to numbers, labels, sides. Billionaires growing richer. Governments speaking in threats. Human lives caught in between.
And somewhere inside, a quiet voice asks:
Why, if we are sincerely trying to forgive the world, does it keep throwing this at us?
It can feel almost cruel. As if every attempt at peace is immediately answered with proof that peace is naĂŻve. That forgiveness is denial. That looking with gentle eyes means turning away, pretending, playing ostrich while the world burns.
Many people try exactly that. They stop watching the news. They mute notifications. They tell themselves, “It’s all an illusion anyway.” And for a moment, there is relief. But often it doesn’t last. Because the unease doesn’t come from the screen. It comes from somewhere deeper.
What disturbs us is not only what happens out there, but what it touches in here.
Take the story that circulated in this moment in the U.S., about a nurse who was shot during an ICE operation while trying to help someone else. Whether every detail is reported correctly or not almost becomes secondary. What lands is the image itself: someone stepping forward to help, and violence answering that gesture. Something in us contracts. Not because we are watching “bad news,” but because we recognize something sacred being violated.
We don’t just register information. We feel meaning.
The world keeps presenting scenes that seem to shout: power over care, force over gentleness, control over humanity. And when you are someone who values connection, fairness, and simple decency, this hurts…right there, in the chest !
If you were truly numb, the news wouldn’t bother you at all. But it does. Precisely because you care. Precisely because you have not closed your heart.
The mind often tries to solve this by choosing sides: either we stay informed and feel overwhelmed, or we turn away and feel disconnected. But that is a false choice. There is another way of meeting the world, one that doesn’t require hardening or denial.
It begins with an honest recognition:
This is painful to witness, because it matters to me.
That sentence alone changes everything. It stops the inner argument. You are no longer fighting your reaction, nor indulging it. You are simply acknowledging reality, both inner and outer.
What we are bombarded with daily is not just “bad news,” but mirrors. Mirrors showing us where the collective mind still believes in separation, fear, and dominance. The world doesn’t attack our peace by accident. It reflects the belief systems that are still active, loudly so, because they are being questioned.
Seen this way, the news is not there to defeat us, but to reveal something: where fear still pretends to be authority, and where love still feels radical.
When someone says he/she cannot let it go, that makes sense. Letting go doesn’t mean pretending it isn’t happening. It means not letting the ego write the conclusion.
The ego concludes:
“This proves the world is hopeless.”
“This means people are terrible.”
“This shows power always wins.”
Forgiveness does something else. It says:
“This shows what happens when fear is believed.”
“And fear is not the truth, no matter how loud it gets.”
That shift is subtle, but it is everything.
You don’t have to look away. You also don’t have to drown in it. You can look clearly, without feeding the inner narrative of despair or rage. You can allow grief without turning it into accusation. You can feel anger without letting it harden into identity.
This is not hiding …it is discernment.
You might still read the news. You might still feel that tightening in your chest, but instead of asking, “Why is the world like this?” the question gently changes into: “What is this inviting me to see about the mind?”
And the answer is often uncomfortable but simple: fear is loud when it senses it is losing its grip.
The headlines are not evidence that forgiveness fails. They are evidence that the old story is shouting because it is being seen.
You don’t need to fix the world today. You don’t need to convince anyone. You don’t need to choose between caring and peace.
You are allowed to feel disturbed by violence and still remain anchored. You are allowed to grieve injustice without making it your identity. You are allowed to forgive without pretending nothing is wrong.
Forgiveness does not deny pain.
It denies pain the final word.
And perhaps that is the clarity that can be felt in the chest, when things finally line up:
I can see this world as it appears, and still not confuse appearances with truth.
The news may continue to be loud, but it no longer defines who you are, nor what you know to be real.
And that is not turning away.
That is standing quietly, firmly, in a different place.
With love and light
G.