What My Patients Taught Me
A Doctor’s Reflection on Healing, Envy, and Inner Strength
I’d like to share something personal with you today—not a medical case, not a research paper, not a clinical success story.
Instead, I want to talk about something that’s harder to diagnose and even more difficult to treat: the fatigue of the soul, the burden of misunderstanding, and the quiet strength we find when we begin to understand ourselves.
As a doctor, I’ve come to realize that healing doesn’t always start with a prescription. Over the years, I’ve had patients—especially elderly ones—who would come not because they needed medicine, but simply to be near me. Some would sit quietly. Others would hold my hand. Many would leave without taking a single tablet. Yet they walked away lighter, smiling.
At first, I didn’t understand it. But over time, it became clear: they weren’t just coming to be treated—they were coming to feel safe. They were coming for a kind of unspoken reassurance. And perhaps, they were coming because of the positive energy they sensed in the room.
In the sterile language of science, we don’t often speak about energy or presence. But in the real world of suffering human beings, these things are very real.
When Presence Becomes the Medicine
This quiet, invisible connection began to be noticed. Not just by patients—but by colleagues. There was one doctor in particular, senior to me in age and rank, who couldn’t understand why patients came to me instead of him. And rather than finding inspiration in it, he responded with envy.
His reactions turned bitter—passive aggression, unfair accusations, subtle sabotage. I found myself at the center of unnecessary drama. And the most painful part? I had done nothing wrong.
I wasn’t competing with anyone. I wasn’t calling patients, I wasn’t advertising myself. People were simply coming on their own. But for some, that’s enough to ignite resentment.
The Silent Weight of Envy
At first, it hurt. To be misunderstood, maligned. But eventually, I realized—this wasn’t about me at all. This was about his own internal discontent. His own bitterness.
And here’s what I’ve come to understand: envy is a self-inflicted wound. It punishes the one who carries it far more than the one it's directed at. It is the mind’s reaction to its own perceived inadequacy.
He wasn’t suffering because of me. He was suffering because of himself. Because he had forgotten what it means to serve from the heart. Because comparison had replaced compassion.
Forgiveness as Freedom
That’s when something inside me shifted. I stopped reacting. I stopped explaining myself. And instead, I forgave.
Not because he apologized. Not because he changed. But because forgiveness is freedom. It was the only way to stop carrying a weight that wasn’t mine to begin with.
We often speak of medicine for the body. But what about medicine for the spirit? What about the inner healing we all need from time to time?
That day, I discovered a deeper truth: I’m not here just to treat symptoms. I’m here to hold space—for comfort, for humanity, for dignity. And when you serve from that space, people will come to you. Not because you’re popular, but because your presence is healing.
Let the Light Disturb the Darkness
Of course, not everyone will understand. Some will envy. Some will gossip. Some will try to dim your light.
But we are not here to be liked. We are here to be light.
And light, by its very nature, will disturb the darkness.
So let them envy. Let them misunderstand. Let them count their patients.
You—count your blessings.
Let others chase validation. You—stay rooted in your purpose. You are not competing. You are connecting. You are not reacting. You are rising.
Self-Realization Begins in Stillness
One evening, after a long and difficult day, I told myself: "From here, I will slowly begin to feel well again."
That was my turning point. Because healing doesn't begin when the world changes. It begins when our own perspective does.
True realization happens when we stop asking, “Why is this happening to me?” And instead begin asking, “What is this teaching me about myself?”
That is when we step into freedom—not as a concept, but as a lived experience.
To Everyone Reading This
If you’ve ever been the target of jealousy, or misunderstood for simply doing your job with integrity—know this: the universe doesn’t forget.
Continue to serve. Continue to love. Continue to heal—not just through medicine, but through your presence.
Because in the end, it’s not how many prescriptions we write that defines our legacy. It’s how many hearts we touch.
That is the only medicine that never expires.
Om Shanti 🙏🏽
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