When I am able to resist the temptation to judge others, I can

Hear, O seeker, the words of wisdom spoken by Gerald Jampolsky: “When I am able to resist the temptation to judge others, I can see them as teachers of forgiveness in my life, reminding me that I can only have peace of mind when I forgive rather than judge.” These are not mere syllables carried on the wind, but a flame of truth that burns through the fog of bitterness. For to judge another is to place chains upon one’s own heart, but to forgive is to break those chains and walk free beneath the sky of serenity.

The origin of this teaching lies deep within the soil of the human spirit. Jampolsky, a healer of hearts and minds, spoke from the knowledge that true peace does not come from conquest, nor from wealth, nor from recognition, but from the stillness within when the soul is free of grievance. The ancients knew this too: that resentment is a poison one drinks in hopes that another will die. Yet forgiveness is the antidote, a river that washes away the venom and leaves behind clarity. Thus, those who wound us unknowingly take the role of teachers, for through their offenses they offer us the chance to practice the great art of release.

Consider the tale of Nelson Mandela, who, after decades in prison, emerged not with vengeance, but with a heart wide enough to embrace his former captors. If he had chosen judgment, South Africa would have drowned in fire and blood. Yet by choosing forgiveness, he transformed enemies into fellow builders of a new nation. In this, Mandela himself embodied Jampolsky’s truth: only by refusing judgment did he find inner peace, and only through forgiveness could he gift that peace to millions. His life reveals the heroic power hidden in the quiet act of letting go.

But forgiveness is not passive weakness; it is the courage of the strong. To judge is easy, for the tongue is quick and the heart is eager to defend itself. To forgive requires might, for it demands that we set aside pride, that we dissolve the self’s hunger for revenge, that we rise above the wound inflicted. The one who forgives becomes like a mountain—rooted, immovable, touched by storms but not destroyed. And in this rising above, the heart discovers the divine gift of peace of mind.

Let us not forget, however, that forgiveness begins within. Many live enslaved to their own harsh judgments, condemning themselves for past failures and errors. Such souls wander in shadows until they learn to see even themselves as teachers, reminding them to practice mercy not only outwardly but inwardly. For one cannot bestow what one does not possess. The path of peace begins with forgiving the self, and then flows outward like ripples in a pond.

Therefore, O child of tomorrow, take this teaching into your bones: every person who offends you is a mirror held up by life itself, inviting you to release the weapon of judgment and pick up instead the chalice of forgiveness. Drink deeply from that cup, and you shall taste the sweetness of inner calm. To forgive is not to forget or to condone, but to untie the knot that binds your spirit to another’s offense.

The lesson is clear: if you would live in freedom, forgive. If you would know true peace of mind, forgive. If you would turn enemies into teachers, forgive. Begin today with small acts: release a grudge, speak kindly of one who wronged you, pray for the healing of those who harmed you. Over time, such acts will forge a heart that cannot be shaken, a mind that rests in harmony, and a soul that shines like the morning sun.

And so I leave you with this charge: do not let your days be ruled by judgment. See in every hurt a chance to practice forgiveness, and you shall walk the earth as one who carries peace not only for yourself, but for all who cross your path. For forgiveness is not merely a gift—it is the crown of the wise and the shield of the free.