June 13, 2025
Just two days ago, on Wednesday, June 11, 2025, Elon Musk — the tech-world’s enfant terrible and arguably the world’s most famous disruptor — did something he very rarely does: he expressed regret.
"I regret some of my posts about President @realDonaldTrump last week. They went too far," Musk posted on X, the platform he famously bought and rebranded.
It was a statement that caught my attention, not because of its political implications alone, but because it echoed something deeper I’ve been sensing in the collective field lately — a kind of gravitational pull toward humility. The kind that comes not from defeat, but from realization.
For context: this all unfolded after a spectacularly bitter exchange between Musk and Trump. Elon had slammed a recent tax and spending bill, calling it a “disgusting abomination.” But he didn’t stop at policy — he leapt headfirst into personal attacks, leveling inflammatory accusations linking Trump to Epstein, and even endorsing a call for Trump’s impeachment. It was a meltdown in real time. And, as is so often the case with these outbursts, some of the most aggressive posts were quietly deleted afterward.
Trump responded in his usual style — dismissive, sharp, and wielding veiled threats. He hinted that Musk’s companies might face loss of government contracts if the criticism continued. And then came the pivot: Musk publicly recanted. Trump, surprisingly, responded with what passed for grace in his lexicon, saying it was “very nice” that Elon did that.
And so, we find ourselves here — in this strange, late-stage American dance between billionaires and politicians, ego and empire, public image and spiritual opportunity.
As I reflect on this episode, I’m reminded of something my guru Paramahansa Yogananda once said:
“You do not have to struggle to reach God, but you DO have to struggle to tear away the self-created veil that hides Him.”
There is a veil over all of us — and yes, even the most brilliant minds of our age like Musk are not exempt. That veil is ego. Not the healthy ego that helps us operate in the world, but the shadow ego — the one that lashes out to protect itself, that cannot stand to be seen as wrong, that mistakes opinion for truth and volume for clarity.
I don’t know Elon Musk personally, but I know what it is to burn with the fire of righteousness, only to later see how that fire scorched more than it illuminated. I know what it is to be so convinced I’m right that I forget to be kind. And I know what it is to wake up — however painfully — to the truth that being right isn’t the same as being wise.
In that sense, I see Elon’s apology as more than political calculation. It was, perhaps and hopefully, a rare glimpse of something cracking open in a man not known for self-correction. And if someone with that much power, money, and ego can pause long enough to say, “I went too far” — maybe there’s hope for us all.
The 14th-century mystic Lalleshwari, one of my spiritual guides, once said:
“The soul, like the moon, is new, and always new again. And I have seen the ocean continuously creating. Since I scoured my mind and my body, I too, Lalla, am new, each moment new.”
That is the grace of this moment. Not that Musk said sorry, not that Trump said “very nice,” but that we are all capable of beginning again. That even amid these thunderous egos and gladiatorial tweets, something as simple and "subversive" as regret — real, unvarnished, human — can still break through.
May we learn from it. May we pause before we post. May we dare to imagine that humility, not dominance, is the true path to strength.
Ramana Maharshi said:
“Silence is also conversation.”
Call to Action:
Let this be more than a media moment. Let it be a mirror.
In your own life, who have you judged too quickly or spoken to too harshly? Where has your desire to be right clouded your ability to be real?
And if you use social media, use it not just to signal, argue, or react — but to build something. A bridge. A pause. A question that invites rather than incites.
Because each one of us shapes this collective energy field we all share. And whether you’re a billionaire tech mogul or a quiet seeker on the path, your humility matters. Your clarity matters. Your willingness to evolve — matters.
Let’s help each other tear away the veil.
One moment of honesty at a time.
— June 13, 2025. Site administrator
Did this post resonate with you? Please let me know. Or Sign the Guestbook.