The senses may be windows to the world, but they are mere portholes to reality

A window gives us the sensation that we are looking at a large part of the outside world through it. In contrast, a porthole, being a small window in a ship, reminds us that we are getting a bare peek at the large reality out there.

Our senses seem like windows to the world around us. Information from the world streams in to us through the senses, making us feel that we know or can know a lot about that world. This feeling of increased access to the world is further boosted by science, which starts with the information provided by the senses and theorizes to make sense of that information. Yet that very science suggests that there’s much more to reality than what is visible. For example, astrophysics holds that more than 95% of the universe is composed of invisible stuff called dark matter. Thus, even according to science, our senses give us only a tiny glimpse of reality.

Acknowledging that the senses are mere portholes to reality opens us to Gita wisdom. The Bhagavad-gita (15.10) stresses that the soul can be seen only with the eyes of knowledge. This principle that the senses can’t perceive the spiritual applies all the more so to the supreme soul, Krishna, who is infinite.

Nonetheless, the Gita (10.41) indicates that everything attractive reflects a spark of Krishna’s all-attractiveness. If we see the world’s attractive objects as independent sources of pleasure, our senses will act as doorways to illusion. But if we see those objects’ attractiveness as pointers to Krishna’s all-attractiveness – as we learn to see by the Gita’s eyes of knowledge – then our senses will serve as portholes to the highest spiritual reality. We will feel inspired to practice bhakti-yoga intensely to increasingly relish Krishna’s eternal all-attractiveness.

Failure is not catastrophic – to see failure as catastrophic is catastrophic

Our mind often makes problems seem worse than what they actually are. Suppose someone fails in an exam. Their mind may tell them that their failure proves that they are not good enough, for education or even for life itself. If they become so disheartened as to give up on life, that suicidal quitting is catastrophic.

When we fail at something, the mind often catastrophizes such failures. It berates us that we are good-for-nothing and that our failure proves that we will never be good for anything. Being battered thus by the mind, we lose the spirit to do what we could otherwise have done for dealing with the problem. Consequently, the situation worsens; the mind uses that worsened situation to beat us even more; and we end up paralyzed. Eventually, our seeing the failure as a catastrophe is what makes it a catastrophe.

We can counter the mind’s dystopia by internalizing Gita wisdom. The Gita explains that we are at our core indestructible souls. Whatever things go wrong are going wrong in the body or the world, which is ultimately peripheral to our essential self. Moreover, we have an eternal relationship with the supreme spiritual being, Krishna, who loves us always, no matter what goes wrong or even what we do wrong. The Bhagavad-gita (05.20) states that those who are situated in spiritual knowledge are not shaken by upheavals.

Our spiritual self-understanding gives us the inner security necessary to see things in perspective. We learn to view the reversal objectively. Instead of letting the mind unwarrantedly extrapolate from one failure to a blanket self-condemnation, we calmly discern how to best rectify the situation. Being no longer weighed down by our mental perception of the problem, we can use our energy optimally for responding effectively to the actual problem.

To lose one’s reason is bad, but to lose everything except one’s reason is far worse

Our reason, our rational faculty, is vital for keeping us intelligently regulated and purposefully directed in life. The use of reason has assisted in the development of many influential fields of knowledge such as science. If we lose our reason, we become sentimental and gullible, vulnerable to imprudent or even self-destructive choices.

Losing our reason is dangerous, but danger lies at the other extreme too – in losing everything except our reason. For example, the Nazis used reason to rationalize the Holocaust. They appropriated the prevalent theory of social Darwinism to convince themselves that they, the Nazis, were earth’s fittest race and that the Jews, whom they saw as their nemesis, were an unfit race that nature would eliminate in due course amidst the survival of the fittest. They saw their gas chambers simply as ways of helping nature in its evolutionary course. Their unidimensional devotion to their version of reason desensitized them to the monstrous atrocities they were inflicting on millions of Jews.

Reason, when made into a god, can make us unfeeling automatons who perpetrate unconscionable deeds remorselessly. The natural brainchild of reason is doubt: doubt towards anything that doesn’t submit itself to reason. When reason becomes our life’s sole arbiter, we doubt and discard other valid and valuable forms of knowing such as conscience, intuition, common sense, scriptural revelation and spiritual experience. The Bhagavad-gita (04.40) cautions that those who submit uncritically to doubt get happiness neither in this world nor the next.

Rather than granting reason monopoly over our life, we need to integrate it in a holistic life. Bhakti-yoga assists in such integration by enabling us to use all our faculties, including our reason, to connect lovingly with the supreme source of everyone, Krishna, thereby developing an empathic vision towards all.

Regulation is the foundation for purification

Suppose we had to clean a water tank. We would need to do two things: clean the water already in the tank and regulate the water flowing into it. If dirty water were allowed to flow in unrestrictedly, then despite the best cleaning, the tank would still remain unclean.

Like a water tank that needs cleaning, our consciousness needs purification; we need to purge it of base impressions for selfish, shortsighted indulgence so that we, as eternal spiritual beings, can actualize our potential for lasting fulfillment. To cleanse our consciousness, we need to expose it to pure stimuli. The best such stimulus is the supreme spiritual reality, God, Krishna, who is supremely pure and supremely purifying. Consistent connection with him can purify even the most contaminated consciousness.

Simultaneously, we need to avoid further exposure to impure, agitating stimuli. The Bhagavad-gita, while outlining how to control selfish desires (03.36-43), stresses that we need to begin by regulating our senses (03.41). Such regulation prevents the further contamination of our consciousness. Though we can’t avoid all contact of the senses with the sense objects, we can certainly minimize it to the essential.

Won’t such regulation seem like deprivation? Not if it is the springboard for connecting with a source of higher satisfaction. Pertinently, the Gita reminds us of our spiritual identity (03.42) and urges us to use our intelligence for situating ourselves on the spiritual platform (03.43). The most easy and effective way to become spiritually situated is by practicing bhakti-yoga (08.14). This yoga of love connects us with Krishna, who is the source of unlimited happiness. That connection enables us to gradually and increasingly relish life’s supreme happiness. The Gita (06.27) confirms that steady spiritual discipline enables us to find the ultimate joy.

Thus, regulation sets the ground for purification and ultimately the supreme satisfaction.

Don’t depress yourself – depress your expectation from yourself

 A child who wants to become a long-jump champion needs to start by taking tiny jumps that may seem negligibly ordinary. But for that child, those small jumps are practical, tangible, valuable steps forward.

Whenever we strive to achieve something worthwhile or glorious, we may fail.

That failure can dishearten and depress us. To avoid such depression, we need to recognize that more important than success is progress. If we develop a steady momentum of moving from where we are toward where we want to go, we will, sooner or later, reach where we are meant to be.

Based on our natures, talents and circumstances, we all have different starting points – what may be easy for someone else may not be so easy for us. If we disregard or deny this reality, we succumb to one of the two sides of the counterfeit coin of ego-induced temptation: unrealistic expectation (“I am so great”) and unwarranted depression (“I am so worthless”).

To resist such temptation, we need to depress our expectations. Depressing our expectations doesn’t mean licensing lethargy or apathy; it simply means acknowledging that long journeys are traversed through small steady steps, not through sudden stunning leaps. An attitude of humble realism towards our present status and capacity can help us build the momentum of steady progress that will eventually engender success.

This principle applies to spiritual growth too. The Bhagavad-gita (04.38) indicates that the ability to relish inner happiness through spiritual knowledge develops over time. In the same vein, the Gita (06.25-26) urges us to repeatedly strive for bringing the mind towards the spiritual without unrealistically expecting spiritual absorption overnight. Such sustained practice will eventually make us pacified, purified and satisfied (06.27-28).

By depressing our expectation from success to progress, we can resist the temptation of depression and progress towards success.

Bhakti is beyond feminism – and beyond male chauvinism too

Gender roles are becoming increasingly intermingled and blurred nowadays. Conservatives blame feminism for various social problems such as marital ruptures and teenage delinquency. Liberals counter that male chauvinism has caused far bigger social problems such as domestic violence and bridal burnings.

When people with such orientations start practicing bhakti, they often stress their orientations within their conception of bhakti. Thus, some hold that non-traditional ideologies such as feminism have caused the lack of spirituality among women and thereby in all of society; so, social re-spiritualization requires the repudiation of feminism. Others counter that today the lack of spirituality plagues men too, who would only exploit women if the clock were turned back; better to not position bhakti as antagonistic to influential social trends such as feminism.

Either way, such attacks and counter-attacks risk missing the problem: misdirected consciousness. The Bhagavad-gita (15.07) explains that we all are souls, parts of Krishna, and are meant to love and serve him. Be we men or women, conservatives or liberals, if we don’t live harmoniously with Krishna, our consciousness gets misdirected by our mind and senses. These inner agents of illusion torment us with various desires and conceptions. And goaded by their torment, we end up acting in ways that torment others. Amidst such internal and external torment, worldly conceptions such as feminism or male chauvinism often become convenient whipping boys.

Ultimately, bhakti is transcendental to all worldly conceptions – it is the human heart’s loving connection with the divine heart. Whatever our personal disposition or social position, we all can cultivate bhakti. When we focus on practicing bhakti-yoga diligently, the resulting deepened devotion will make us more open to Krishna’s inner guidance (10.10). With such spiritualized intelligence, we will understand how we can best act as parts of the solution, not parts of the problem.

In bhakti, understanding and practice are not just sequential, but also symbiotic

When we understand how some process works, say, how a particular fitness regimen works, our motivation to practice it increases. Thus, understanding inspires and intensifies practice.

From understanding to practice is frequently the sequence of our spiritual growth too. We may be introduced to bhakti philosophy through some books or classes. On understanding the philosophy’s cogency, we may start practicing bhakti-yoga practice diligently.

But in some cases, practice may precede understanding, as happens especially for those born or brought up in a devotional culture. Deference to that culture may make them practice bhakti. Later, if they comprehend bhakti’s intellectual depth, such comprehension can strengthen their practice.

Thus, deepening our understanding of bhakti is always helpful, both for starters and practitioners.

Still, we needn’t make our bhakti practice conditional to understanding. Why not? Because bhakti centers on the supreme reality, Krishna, who is greater than the intelligence. So, some bhakti principles can lie beyond the ken of the intelligence. Such principles may seem contradictory, but they are actually paradoxical. Instead of struggling intellectually to decipher such paradoxes, we can focus on practicing bhakti. Bhakti practice will purify and elevate our consciousness, thereby granting us a higher perspective to better appreciate how the paradoxes are true.

Pertinently, the Bhagavad-gita (18.55) states that only through bhakti is Krishna understood. Here the sequence is reversed: rather than practice being boosted by understanding, practice bestows understanding. This reverse sequence is reiterated in the Gita (10.10): for devoted practitioners, Krishna grants the intelligence to come to him.

That understanding and practice can both boost each other underscores their symbiotic relationship. If we strive to do both, each according to our capacity, Krishna will reciprocate mercifully. And his infinite capacity will empower us to grow spiritually far beyond what we had presumed was our capacity.

Delusion makes eating a life-threatening activity

Commensality, the act of eating together with others, is one of the commonest relaxing and rejuvenating activities. While our body gets necessary nourishment through good food, our heart gets comfort amidst our loved ones.

Unfortunately, commensality has nowadays become hostage to the corporate-controlled media, whose relentless propaganda has distorted our definition of good food. Get-togethers aren’t considered cool unless they feature fast foods and other glamorized, but unhealthy, foodstuffs. While we are eating such food, little do we realize that we are setting ourselves up for being eaten by obesity, diabetes, and heart disease. And these are just the toppers in a crowded field of food-induced maladies, which are often life-threatening. Pertinently, the Bhagavad-gita (17.09) cautions that food which hyper-stimulates our senses is in the mode of passion – such food leads to misery.

If we don’t want to be thus deluded, we need to rescue our definition of good food from materialistic captivity. The most holistic way to redefining good food is to redefine the good life. The Gita explains that our present existence is three-dimensional: physical, mental and spiritual. That life is truly good which nourishes all three dimensions of our being.

For such all-round nourishment, Gita wisdom introduces us to a beautiful bhakti culture wherein good food plays a vital part, as does good association. We can prepare healthy vegetarian food and offer it prayerfully to God, Krishna, thereby acknowledging that he is our sustainer. When we honor such sanctified food in the company of loving devotees, we are not just nourished physically and sheltered emotionally. We are also uplifted spiritually, because the food, the association and the whole setting are centered on Krishna, the highest spiritual reality.

Ultimately, spiritual commensality forms the heart of the potent bhakti process that propels us towards the best life – the life of eternal spiritual love.

Bhakti-yoga takes our relationship with Krishna from familiarity to comfort to desire to need

Bhakti-yoga takes our relationship with Krishna from familiarity to comfort to desire to need Suppose we wish to learn car driving. Initially, we try to become familiar with a car by riding in it. After riding a few times, we start feeling comfortable in it. On regularly seeing acquaintances driving a car, our desire to drive one increases. And if we move to a city with poor public transport, car driving becomes a need.

Our relationship with Krishna grows through similar stages. Of course, Krishna being the source of everything that exists is not comparable with a car. Still, the principles of developing a relationship are similar. Let’s see how.

Familiarity: When we associate with people devoted to Krishna, we start becoming familiar with Krishna’s various manifestations such as Deities, holy names, scriptures and sacred places.

Comfort: Devotees inspire us to move from familiarity with Krishna to practicing bhakti-yoga. By such practice, Krishna’s message helps us make increasing sense of life, and his remembrance gives glimpses of profound peace and bliss. Thus, we start feeling comfortable amidst Krishna’s various manifestations.

Desire: When we see the purity, potency, serenity and ecstasy serious devotees get through their absorption in Krishna, we start desiring similar absorption. The Bhagavad-gita (12.09) states that when we repeatedly strive to remember Krishna – a striving that naturally happens in devotee association – our desire for him strengthens.

Need: When diligent bhakti-yoga practice purifies us, we recognize that our life has no meaning or value without Krishna. He becomes our foremost need, akin to how materialists feel that sense objects are their greatest need. Significantly, when we are pure, we need Krishna not because he can give us the things we love, but because he is so lovable.

Being thus convinced that Krishna is Krishna’s greatest blessing, we live absorbed in him, both in this life and in the hereafter.

Appreciating Krishna’s immanence integrates recollection and participation

The Bhagavad-gita’s directive (08.07) – always remember Krishna and do your prescribed duty – raises the question: “How can we do both simultaneously? If we are to do our duties responsibly, we need to focus on them. Does the Gita recommend living with a split consciousness – recollecting Krishna with half of our consciousness and participating in our work with the other half?”

No, not at all. That distracted functioning isn’t the Gita’s call is evident from the actions of its original student, Arjuna; after hearing the Gita, he executed his martial duty whole-heartedly – and did it in divine consciousness.

We too can infuse our work with such divine consciousness by making Krishna the purpose of our life and by realizing his proximity.

First and foremost, we need to daily invest some quality time, wholeheartedly absorbing ourselves in Krishna’s remembrance by connecting with his direct manifestations such as Deity, scripture and the holy name. By such absorption, we realize and relish his greatness and sweetness. Thus, our devotion becomes enhanced and our conviction to dedicate our life to him becomes reinforced. With this heightened devotional sensibility, we can increasingly sense Krishna’s immanence, thereby helping us realize that he is never far from us.

Pertinently, the Gita explains that Krishna is not just transcendent but is also immanent. The Gita’s tenth chapter illustrates Krishna’s immanence by listing some fifty opulent manifestations. The chapter concludes by declaring that everything attractive manifests a spark of Krishna’s attractiveness (10.41). This insight implies that while doing our duty, if something attracts our attention, we can redirect our attention from that object to its source. And that all-attractive source is present in our own hearts in his immanent manifestation as the Supersoul.

By thus cultivating devotional purposefulness and relishing divine immanence, we can both remember Krishna and do our duty diligently.

Humility propels us on the journey from self-absorption to Krishna-absorption

People sometimes ask, “Isn’t humility demeaning and disempowering to oneself?”

No, actual humility is elevating and empowering, freeing us from self-absorption in all its forms, including the two extremes of self-congratulation or in self-recrimination. During self-congratulation, we obsess over how great we are – how talented, special, cool we are. Such self-obsession can degenerate to megalomania. During self-recrimination, we obsess over how bad we are – how untalented, ordinary, uncool we are. Such self-recrimination can trigger inferiority complex, depression and even suicidal urges.

Humility enables us to go beyond such self-absorption to absorption in some higher purpose. Gita wisdom introduces us to the highest purpose: the purpose of love. At our core, we are all souls, spiritual beings, who long to love and be loved. And this innate longing for love is best fulfilled when directed towards the eternal, all-attractive Supreme, Krishna. Underscoring that his all-attractiveness is appreciated by the knowledgeable, the Bhagavad-gita (07.19) states that they surrender to him, understanding him to be everything.

Later, the Gita (13.08-12) states that knowledge comprises twenty qualities, which begin with humility. This knowledge is not theoretical but is transformational. It is the knowledge of bhakti-yoga, the kind of all knowledge (09.02), the knowledge that changes our object of love from the world to the source of the world, Krishna.

In fact, humility works symbiotically with bhakti-yoga. Humility, the doorway to knowledge, liberates us from the self-absorption that entraps us in the cocoon of our own little world. And devotion, the culmination of knowledge, enables us to become absorbed in Krishna.

The combination of humility and devotion is both elevating and empowering. Elevating because we gain profound higher spiritual satisfaction when we focus on Krishna, the source of all pleasure. And empowering because his omnipotent grace helps us forever break free from unfulfilling, binding self-absorption.

Even if bhakti is not joyful, it is still fruitful

When we hear scriptural descriptions about the immense, intense bliss of bhakti, we may get the question, “Is this for real?” This question may become all the more acute when our bhakti practice doesn’t yield similar bliss.

To understand how bhakti is really joyful, we need to first appreciate that it acts in two ways: as nectar and as medicine. How it appears to us depends on how pure our consciousness is. The Bhagavad-gita (10.18) reports the pure devotee Arjuna’s experience: the bhakti activity of hearing Krishna’s glories is like an unendingly relishable flow of nectar.

However, when we are materially attached, as most of us presently are, our consciousness gets distracted from Krishna even during our bhakti practices. Because of such a distracted consciousness, we can’t focus on Krishna. So, we stay deprived of the joy that comes from connecting with the supreme reservoir of all joy.

Significantly though, Srimad-Bhagavatam (10.1.4) indicates that bhakti benefits even the materially attached. How? By acting like a medicine. Some medicines taste bitter, but if they make us better, we gird ourselves to take them – not for their taste but for their effect.

A similar no-nonsense approach towards bhakti can stabilize and strengthen our devotional practices. Every moment that we focus our mind on Krishna, that contact with the all-pure supreme purifies us. Even if we can’t focus, if we just sincerely strive to focus, that endeavor pleases Krishna, thereby attracting his potent and purifying mercy. Purification essentially implies the subordination or elimination of distractions. Freed from distractions, we can increasingly access the joyfulness of absorption in Krishna. Pertinently, the Gita (18.37) assures that even if elevating activities taste like poison initially, they will taste like nectar eventually.

So, whenever bhakti’s joyfulness doesn’t seem evident, we can persevere by meditating on its fruitfulness.

Commitment is the complement of talent, not its replacement

A contemporary debate centers on the source of genius: Do geniuses become geniuses because of their inborn talent? Or can hard work make anyone a genius?

Certainly, hard work is essential for achieving anything outstanding. Still, can hard work alone make any aspiring cricketer the next Sachin Tendulkar? Thousands of wanna-be Tendulkars work just as hard as he did, but can’t replicate his sustained batting brilliance.

Gita wisdom explains that we all are souls on a multi-life journey, a journey that is meant to culminate in eternal ecstatic love for God. In each lifetime, we start with a certain psychophysical nature acquired from our previous lives, based on the way we have lived and the choices we have made. This nature, with its constellation of talents and interests, is different for different people. Some people are born with phenomenal talent that serves as a powerful launching pad for extraordinary achievement. But what propels them towards achievement is their commitment, their hard work in training and practice for honing that talent.

Can commitment help the untalented improve? Certainly. But commitment alone can’t replace talent; it can’t make a tone-deaf person the next Mozart. The Bhagavad-gita (03.35) points to this innate diversity of talent when it recommends that we not seek success in areas where we don’t have the requisite talents, even if such areas seem easy, lucrative or glamorous.

This synergy of talent and commitment points to an underlying human-divine synergy in life at large. By giving due recognition to people’s talent, we acknowledge the role of divine arrangement. By giving due recognition to people’s commitment, we acknowledge their hard work.

Overall, by internalizing Gita wisdom, we can both introspect better to discover our hidden God-given talents and commit more firmly for tapping those talents in a mood of service and contribution.

Constancy of purpose often necessitates change of strategy

India dominated world hockey from the 1920s to the 1970s. Its success came from its wizard-like expertise in using the hockey stick. But after artificial turfs were introduced in the 1970s, success required strength and stamina more than stick wizardry. As India didn’t or couldn’t develop changed strategies to meet these new requirements, its position in world hockey soon declined from supremacy to mediocrity.

This example illustrates that achieving the same purpose – in this case, winning at hockey – sometimes requires adopting a changed strategy. This principle applies in spiritual life too, especially in making spiritual wisdom relevant and appealing for society.

The Bhagavad-gita reveals such resourcefulness when it expands Arjuna’s vision beyond the two strategies for spiritual growth known to him – the path of action, which he thought would keep him entangled; and the path of renunciation, which he thought would liberate him. Considering Arjuna’s context, he was poised to fight a war necessary for establishing dharma. Accordingly, Krishna harmonized spiritual strategy with dharmic necessity and introduced Arjuna to a third option: neither action, nor renunciation of action, but renunciation in action. The Bhagavad-gita (05.11) indicates that we can pursue purification and spiritual elevation by using all our resources, even our senses. The Gita’s thought-flow culminates in devotion, wherein absorption in the all-attractive Supreme Krishna is declared the best way for being renounced internally while performing action externally. Action with such devotional service attitude comprises the best way for both growing spiritually and contributing socially.

Applying this devotional spirit of inner renunciation and outer contribution, Gita exponents regularly devise strategies customized for their time-place-circumstance. For example, contemporary Gita teachers may use the latest social media to take spiritual wisdom to people’s homes and phones.

By similarly adopting tailor-made strategies, we can assist in fulfilling Krishna’s timeless purpose: sharing spiritual wisdom with everyone.

The unlikeliness of the Gita’s setting underscores the urgency of its message

Suppose a cricket World Cup final match is about to start. Thousands of spectators have assembled and are cheering; the fielders are in place; and the bowler has taken guard. Suppose at that intense moment the batsman calls the non-striker and the two start talking – and keep talking, on and on. If the two batsmen were reputed to be high-minded, competent players who wouldn’t resort to any underhanded delaying tactics, then the very unlikeliness of their actions would suggest that whatever they are discussing must be something extremely important and urgent.

The Bhagavad-gita’s battlefield setting points to a similar inference. The two armies have assembled; the conches have been blown to signify the war’s start; and the Pandavas’ foremost warrior Arjuna has raised his bow. But at that critical moment, he asks his charioteer Krishna to take his chariot in between the two armies (01.21) and then engages in a fairly long philosophical discussion with him. Arjuna is famed as a principled, powerful and fearless warrior. And Krishna is God himself incarnate on earth for the purpose of establishing dharma. Neither of them is likely to adopt any delaying tactic – and certainly not at the cusp of a dharmic war for which Arjuna has trained lifelong.

The Gita’s unlikely setting emphasizes the urgency of its message. Such emphasis is meant especially for those of us who think that a philosophical book like the Gita is for armchair speculators, not go-getters like us. But few things call for a go-getting attitude as much as does a war. If a warrior about to fight his life’s most important war found the Gita’s wisdom relevant and empowering, so too will we.

Thus, the Gita’s unlikely setting anticipates and addresses an apprehension that prevents many people from exploring life’s spiritual side.

In bhakti, to talk is also to walk the talk

When people just speak about lofty principles of living without exhibiting any tangible improvement in character or behavior, others may chide them, “Don’t just talk – walk your talk.” This saying has a valid kernel, but it also contains an assumption that is not always true, especially on the path of bhakti: the assumption that talking itself can’t be walking.

Bhakti centers on becoming devoted to Krishna and turning away from worldly things that often induce immoral indulgences. An important limb of bhakti, a vital way of directing our heart towards Krishna, is talking about him: sharing his glories with others and hearing his glories being spoken by others. Pertinently, the Bhagavad-gita (10.09) declares that devotees delight in speaking and hearing Krishna’s glories. So, when we talk regularly about him, we are partially walking the talk of being devoted to him.

Of course, if we just talk about Krishna while intentionally and brazenly violating his teachings, that degrades us to the level of hypocrisy. But if we are striving as per our capacity to live according to those teachings and we find ourselves sometimes stumbling, then speaking about Krishna can itself comprise a re-connection with him, thereby giving us the higher taste necessary for rejecting the lure of lower temptations. Thus, talking helps us resume walking.

Further, talking inspires walking. When we guide others to lead a life of devotional principles, such talk activates and strengthens our conscience, thereby prompting us to ourselves become principle-centered in our living.

Moreover, talking empowers walking. When we take the responsibility of sharing Krishna’s message with others, he reciprocates by granting us pure devotion (18.68), thereby empowering us to walk our talk.

Therefore, let’s by all means walk the talk, but without discounting the talk because talk is also a part of the walk.

Don’t overthink yourself into paralysis

Our mind often makes us go to extremes in whatever we do, even in the basic activity of thinking. Sometimes, it makes us impulsive, whereby we act thoughtlessly, even self-destructively. Or, going to the other extreme, it traps us in an infinite loop inside our head, whereby we agonize indecisively over various eventualities – as did Arjuna at the Bhagavad-gita’s start.

Faced with the impending fratricidal war, Arjuna’s mind went into an overdrive. With his imagination powered by a selective reading of scriptural teaching, he foresaw a dystopian destruction of entire dynasties (01.39-42) and even his own condemnation to hell for time uncountable (01.43). And this hyperactive imagination resulted in paralysis – he put aside his bow (01.46), confessed his confusion (02.06) and refused to fight (02.09).

How did a powerful warrior become so powerless? By overthinking. Undoubtedly, his deliberating the war’s consequences was laudable. But such deliberation had already been done before the war, as narrated in the Mahabharata’s preceding section (Udyoga-Parva). As the vicious Kauravas had arrogantly rejected all peace efforts, the moment called for decisive action, not vacillation.

Arjuna overcame overthinking by turning to Krishna. Thus emerged the Gita, which is a timeless guidebook fora thoughtful action.

How can we know if we are overthinking? First, our thinking starts making things fuzzier, not clearer. Second, our thinking discourages us from any practical action.

Whenever a thought-loop starts paralyzing us, we need to get out of our head by seeking guidance from a trustworthy spiritual mentor well-versed in Gita wisdom. Additionally, we can vent the thoughts out in a journal. After such venting has partially calmed the mind, we can evaluate those thoughts in the light of Gita wisdom.

Being thus guided by the Gita, we can avoid the extremes of thoughtless action and overthinking inaction, thereby choosing action that is both prudent and potent.

Don’t look over temptation – overlook it

Our eyes hunger for alluring sense objects. On seeing such objects, we look over them, sometimes again and again. Wanting to extract as much pleasure as possible from those objects, we consume them visually.

But whatever pleasure we get leaves us dissatisfied and tormented.

Why dissatisfied? Because most sense objects are unattainable. Even if we attain some of them, their beauty is short-lived. And even while that beauty lasts, our physical capacity to enjoy them remains limited.

Why tormented? Because the more we visually prey on sense objects, the more our craving for them grows, eventually becoming irresistible. By courting desires that are on one hand irresistible and on the other hand insatiable, we make ourselves miserable.

The Bhagavad-gita (02.59) acknowledges our hunger for pleasure by stating that abstaining from sense objects feels like starvation. And yet the same verse assures that if we persevere in our abstinence, we will become pacified and satisfied when we get a higher taste. That higher taste comes from appreciation of higher spiritual reality. Gita wisdom explains that underlying our sensual thirst for ephemeral beauty is our spiritual longing for Krishna. He is the all-attractive Lord of our heart – the original source, supreme manifestation and ultimate reservoir of everything beautiful.

To relish Krishna’s beauty, we need to purify ourselves by practicing bhakti-yoga diligently. And while we are becoming purified, we need to overlook temptations. That is, we need to neglect temptations by conscientiously raising our vision beyond them. On seeing tempting objects, we can avoid dwelling on them by redirecting our consciousness elsewhere, preferably towards constructive activities in Krishna’s service. By thus preventing our heart from getting entangled at the sensual level, we make it available for Krishna. And he, by his mercifulness and sweetness, purifies and propels our heart towards perennial pleasurable absorption in him.

Remission is not elimination

When a serious disease such as cancer goes into remission, doctors warn patients that remission doesn’t imply elimination; the disease can relapse and they need to watch out for symptoms that might indicate a relapse.

Similarly, spiritual wisdom helps us understand that selfish drives such as lust, anger and greed are venomous for our souls – as is cancer for our body. The Bhagavad-gita (03.41) indicates that lust is the destroyer of knowledge and the urge for knowledge. When we are allured by lust, we lose our spiritual awareness and lose any interest in cultivating such awareness. Imagining that we will soon become happy at the material level if we just get the right sense objects, we perpetuate our miserable material existence, wherein we suffer repeated old age, disease, death and rebirth.

When we understand the gravity of lust, we seek measures to break its hold on us. If we start practicing spiritual disciplines seriously, we may experience a certain amount of remission in our sensual desires. We may even find ourselves resisting temptations that had earlier seemed irresistible. Such successes can boost our faith in bhakti’s healing potency. But if we let such successes make us complacent and self-congratulatory, imagining that we have already conquered lust, then we are dangerously mistaking remission to be elimination. Lust is still lurking in the background, waiting for the opportunity to entice and enslave us again.

While outlining how to battle lust, the Gita urges us to use our intelligence to situate ourselves on the spiritual platform (03.43). The most sustainable way to be spiritually situated is by learning to love Krishna and to become absorbed in the joy of rendering loving service to him. By such loving absorption alone will lust be exiled from our heart – when we constantly relish the joy of bhakti, we increasingly transcend worldly allurements.

Longing is the test of taste

Suppose during our childhood we had regularly visited an enjoyable place, but during our ensuing life’s many activities, have forgotten how wonderful that place was. However, if we consciously recollect those times or discuss them with others, especially loved ones with whom we had shared those experiences, our longing for that place will awaken and strengthen.

A similar principle of conscious recollection drives bhakti-yoga. Growth in bhakti is commensurate with our longing for Krishna. Bhakti wisdom explains that we are at our core souls who are parts of Krishna, the all-attractive reservoir of all pleasure. When we focus on loving and serving him, we increasingly delight in him, and thus long for him more and more.

In the Bhagavad-gita (10.18), Arjuna expresses an intense longing to hear Krishna’s glories, thereby conveying his taste. Similarly, we can assess our own spiritual advancement by checking how much taste we have for him. That is, how much we long for him, and how much this longing displaces and replaces our worldly cravings.

Nonetheless, a poor score on the taste test needn’t dishearten us. Because lack of taste isn’t our permanent plight – taste can be cultivated by both purification and recollection. As we become purified by bhakti practice, our soul’s natural taste for Krishna activates. And even within whatever bhakti we have practiced till date, we have probably had some relishable spiritual experiences. But these experiences are often relegated to our consciousness’ background because our mind, being materially attached, keeps mundane memories at the forefront.

If we consciously strive to recollect those experiences – and specifically strive to recollect Krishna whom we had experienced poignantly through those experiences – and we associate with those with whom we had shared those experiences, then our longing for him will awaken.

Thus relishing ever-increasing absorption in Krishna, we will pass the taste test.

We are defined by what we stand for, not what we stand against

Some people are perpetual agitators. They agitate against the government, against the police, against the corporate world, against the religious orthodoxy, against the cultural norms. They stand against anything that represents hierarchies and power structures, which they deem intrinsically evil – not just corruptible, but innately corrupt.

The Bhagavad-gita (18.28) indicates that sarcastic and stubborn people work in the mode of ignorance. This mode is characterized by energy and even expertise in destruction. But those working thus are poor at construction and pathetic at maintenance.

If such people somehow tap public discontent with the status quo and gain power, they soon find themselves agenda-less and rudder-less, for they have defined themselves by what they stand against, not what they stand for.

Even if they claim to stand for some positive cause, they often end up perpetuating the same exploitative power structure they had agitated against. Thus, for example, communists promised class-less equality for all, but ended up arrogating privilege for themselves while the majority remained in scarcity. In their “equal” social structure, some people were more equal than others.

Real positive vision rises from spiritual wisdom. The Bhagavad-gita (04.02) recommends saintly kings who are seers spiritually and rulers materially. Such kings find their fulfillment beyond this world in service to the Absolute Truth, Krishna. That fulfillment enables them to use worldly resources without being enamored by the associated glamor and power. They are eminently capable of the leadership that reconciles reform with maintenance, balances innovation with preservation and uses power without being used by power. They stand for the principle of service – service to the whole of which we all are parts, and service to all the parts in relation with the whole.

Such holistically inspired leaders can bring about tangible and sustainable improvement, individually and collectively.

Getting opportunities is providence, grabbing them is diligence

Some underachievers explain away their rivals’ success by saying, “They were lucky; they got the opportunities that others (like me) didn’t.”

Such arguments underrate the role of diligence. Some people may be born with a limousine key in their hands. But even among them, not all become achievers – only those who diligently tap their opportunities do. This defining role of diligence is demonstrated in the Mahabharata’s Arjuna-Karna rivalry.

Even before their final encounter at Kurukshetra, they faced off directly twice – during Draupadi’s svayamvara and the Virata war – and indirectly twice: during the bid to arrest Drupada and the battle against the Gandharvas. On all four occasions, Arjuna outclassed Karna.

Some people attribute Arjuna’s superiority to the better opportunities he got as a kshatriya. They claim that such opportunities were withheld from Karna, for he was deemed a charioteer’s son.

However, such attribution comprises oversimplification, if not distortion. Karna, despite his putative low-birth, eventually got a great martial teacher: Parshurama. And after Duryodhana befriended him, he also got a kingdom and, with it, abundant practice facilities.

Undoubtedly, Arjuna did get some facilities such as admission to Drona’s academy. But so did hundreds of princes. Among them, what distinguished Arjuna was his commitment. Whatever skill he learnt each day, he honed tirelessly during the night. The Bhagavad-gita (01.24) highlights Arjuna’s dedication by calling him Gudakesha, “one who has conquered sleep.”

Significantly, Arjuna didn’t lament when providence handed him a raw deal. When he was exiled because of his brother’s gambling, he took the adversity as an opportunity for performing severe austerities. By appeasing the gods, he expanded his arsenal of divine weapons.

Ultimately, what differentiated Arjuna from Karna was not providence alone but also diligence.

Underachievers can become achievers only when they stop ranting against providence and start tapping diligently whatever opportunities they have.

Don’t give the mind monopoly over your inner conversation

Our mind carries on a continuous one-way conversation inside us. It allures, grumbles, distracts. Using subtle suggestions or imperious instructions or anything in between, it distorts our view of things, thereby acting like our enemy, as the Bhagavad-gita (06.05) indicates.

For example, if someone snubs us, the mind may go on a complaining litany: “People always hurt me; no one cares for me; I am alone in this big bad world; life is not worth living.” If we passively listen to the mind’s rants, we give it monopoly over our inner conversation – and end up misled.

How can we resist the mind’s monopolization? By using our intelligence to counter its ideas.

What if our intelligence isn’t sharp enough? Then we can simply verbalize the mind’s ideas. For example, we can verbalize, “My mind is saying that life is not worth living because I have been snubbed.” Such second person reference to the mind reminds us that it is different from us and its ideas need to be critically evaluated.

What if we don’t recognize that the misleading inner voice belongs to the mind? Then we can simply verbalize our feelings: “I am feeling that life is not worth living because I have been snubbed.” Putting our emotions in words triggers our intelligence and helps us realize that our reaction is absurdly disproportionate.

Such verbalization and realization can come faster if we train our intelligence by regular Gita study.

Ultimately, we need to fix the mind on Krishna to cleanse it of its inimical nature. But sometimes by monopolizing our inner conversation, it can dishearten us in our bhakti practice. Challenging its monopoly prevents such discouragement and helps us better focus on Krishna.

Overall, by becoming alert participants in our inner conversation, instead of remaining naïve recipients, we can make wise choices.

Focus on your steps, not your sidesteps

While walking on a road, suppose we keep worrying about all the slippery spots that we will have to sidestep. The resulting fear that we may slip and injure ourselves can paralyze us. But our paranoia is unwarranted if the road is largely good and the occasional risky patches are negotiable with due caution.

The same principle applies to our spiritual journey. To move towards Krishna, we need to focus on him and avoid indulging in anti-devotional temptations. However, if we keep worrying about all the future tempting circumstances we will have to side-step, we will become disheartened, thinking that the temptations are too many or too strong to resist.

Caution about our vulnerability to temptation is desirable, but paranoia isn’t. Why not? Because the process of bhakti-yoga is essentially positive, not proscriptive. Its thrust is on connecting us with Krishna and granting us access to higher happiness, not on rejecting worldly temptations.

And Krishna makes himself easily accessible through many manifestations such as holy names, scriptures and deities. We can also serve him in multifarious ways according to our interests. Every moment of connection with Krishna, be it through inner remembrance or outer service, comprises a small but significant step towards him. The Bhagavad-gita (02.61) urges us to dwell on our steps, not our sidesteps, when it assures us that focusing on Krishna solidifies our intelligence and propels us towards self-mastery.

Focusing on our steps towards Krishna, even if they are baby steps, enables us to move slowly but surely from our present vulnerable position to a more devotionally secure position. Connecting with him gives us a higher taste that makes worldly temptations more resistible. Whereas worrying about what we shouldn’t do makes us feel threatened and throttled, focusing on what we can do makes us feel progressively energized, absorbed and fulfilled.

The more we comprehend Krishna’s transcendence, the more we cherish his munificence

Suppose a country’s president visits a jail for inspiring prisoners to reform and be released. But suppose the prisoners ignorantly mistake the president to be just another visitor. If somehow they understand this visitor’s position and purpose, they can appreciate the generosity and grab the opportunity.

The material world we presently inhabit is like a prison. Here, our aspirations for lasting life and love are thwarted by the limitations of material things, with their greatest limitation being their temporariness. Unfortunately, not knowing any world beyond the material, we don’t even realize that we are shackled, or that we are missing out on the free and full life available at the spiritual level of reality. That is the life we are meant to have by our essential identity as souls, eternal parts of Krishna, about whom too we remain largely ignorant.

When Krishna descends to this world, he is like the president visiting a prison on a mission of compassion. Unfortunately, due to our spiritual ignorance, we mistake him to be just another person. Thankfully, Gita wisdom helps us understand his position and purpose. He is the Supreme Person, utterly transcendental to everything material – he delights eternally in a life of love with his devotees in his supreme abode.

He descends to this world to charm our heart and inspire us to redirect our love from worldly things to him. The Bhagavad-gita (04.09) declares that by such knowledge and redirection, we can attain him. Thus, knowledge of his position and purpose is our gateway to freedom. The more we comprehend his transcendence, the more we appreciate his munificence in sharing the opportunity to practice bhakti.

When we cherish the opportunity and cultivate bhakti by diligent practice, we propel ourselves towards the ultimate liberation of eternal ecstatic life with Krishna.

Physical sensations cheat us of spiritual emotions

Suppose we are going to a place where a feast is on the menu, but someone takes us elsewhere, promising an even better feast. But what we get there is not a feast, but just some crumbs of unhealthy food.

Something similar happens to us when we strive to grow spiritually and raise our consciousness towards Krishna, but find it taken towards the sense objects that promise pleasure – immediate and immense pleasure at that. However, because our body’s capacity to enjoy is inescapably limited, the sensations that come from contacting the senses with sense objects are at best disappointingly brief.

Sometimes, we pursue physical sensations vicariously by visually consuming explicit images – a consumption that seems harmlessly titillating. But even if we neglect the harm done to the people who are thus dehumanized and objectified by being reduced to their contours, we can’t neglect the harm we do to our own consciousness. It gets degraded to lower, more depraved levels, wherein deeds that would have been earlier unthinkable become over time entertainable, enjoyable and even irresistible. Additionally, our determination to cultivate spiritual consciousness gets increasingly eroded, as the Bhagavad-gita (02.44) cautions. When our consciousness is thus materially abducted, it is not present at the spiritual level; so, it can’t relish the ineffable, immeasurable, inexhaustible fulfillment available through devotional absorption in Krishna.

Studying Gita wisdom helps us understand our spiritual identity as souls, beloved parts of Krishna, meant for a life of eternal fulfilling love with him. And bhakti-yoga gives us enchanting glimpses of these enriching higher emotions. Illumined by such spiritual insights and experiences, the reality registers within us that we are being duped of happiness in the name of happiness. Thus, our fighting spirit gets triggered, and we determinedly hold on to Krishna, firmly resisting physical sensations and increasingly relishing spiritual emotions.

Suffering doesn’t have to be isolating – it can be integrating

When some adversity afflicts us, grief is natural and understandable. Still, after we have given our emotions the necessary vent, we need to counter the mind’s sorry story, which it often spins amidst suffering. Its story usually runs along these lines: “Everyone is enjoying. I alone am suffering. Life is so unfair to me.” This tale worsens our misery by adding feelings of isolation, alienation and victimization.

The reality, as opposed to the mind’s tale, is that we are not alone in our distress. True, others’ problems may not be as grave as ours. But then, some others’ problems may be far graver. The Bhagavad-gita (08.15) states that this world is a place of misery. Meditating on suffering’s universality deflates the mind’s fantasy that happiness is just a few adjustments away – adjustments that others have been able to do, but we haven’t. Freed from this fantasy, we can integrate with material existence’s unpalatable yet undeniable reality: everyone has problems.

More importantly, the Gita helps us see suffering as an impetus for integrating with spiritual reality. The same verse stresses that those who devote themselves to Krishna go beyond this world, uniting with him for a life of eternal love. Even in this world, the more we become absorbed in Krishna by practicing bhakti-yoga, the more we access a spiritual shelter that transcends our material condition.

Moreover, when we experience bhakti’s shelter amidst our specific suffering, that realization can help us connects with others who are suffering similarly. After we have healed sufficiently, we can empathically share with them our realized conviction that bhakti can shelter and heal them too.

Thus, suffering can serve a dual purpose: an impetus for us to go closer to Krishna and a bond that links us with others, thereby helping others come closer to him.

We can’t drive out darkness, but we can turn on the light

Suppose we find ourselves groping and stumbling in a dark room. We may feel irritated at the darkness, but cursing or punching it achieves nothing. We need to find the light switch and turn it on. Once light appears, the darkness will automatically disappear; we can’t separately drive it out – and don’t need to.

Similarly, while living in this material world, we are surrounded by the darkness of ignorance that blinds us to the best way to happiness. We stumble through life, trying various things for enjoyment, but getting multiple miseries instead.

We may want to get rid of the mistakes and misconceptions that mislead us. We might fight against each of these misleading notions separately, but the underlying illusion continues and deludes in some other way. Just as darkness can be removed by turning on light, illusion can be removed by acquiring the knowledge that grants right perception. That knowledge is spiritual knowledge. The Bhagavad-gita (05.16) states that spiritual knowledge acts like a sun for illumining our inner world. Being thus illumined, we can see which desires are beneficial and which inimical.

While such knowledge can manifest in various ways and at various levels, it manifests brightest and fullest when we invoke in our heart the presence of Krishna, the supreme source of all knowledge. We can best invoke his presence by practicing bhakti-yoga diligently. The more we perceive his presence in our heart, the more we get the inspiration and illumination to make wise choices.

So, when we find ourselves struggling and stumbling amidst life’s problems, rather than flailing at our conditions or conditionings, we can focus on devotionally seeking Krishna’s shelter. The resulting inner illumination – the calmness and clarity of our consciousness – will help us find the best way to move ahead in life.

Don’t just restrain the mind – retrain it

Suppose a horse-rider finds their horse going off in dangerous directions. They will have to restrain it, and restrain it forcefully if it is recalcitrant. But eventually they need to retrain it – after all, the horse is not meant to be just kept passive, but to be used for riding to one’s desired destination.

We need to deal with our mind similarly. The Bhagavad-gita (06.06) cautions that the mind often acts like our enemy. It frequently veers off course, getting distracted by trivial things. Sometimes, it veers so wildly off-course as to take U-turns, that is, it impels us to do the very things we had resolved not to do.

Restraining the mind forever is impossible because the mind can’t be made totally inactive; it can’t stop thinking entirely. It habitually thinks of those things that it believes are enjoyable. Because we are presently attached to material things, the mind often goes forcefully towards worldly objects.

Retraining the mind centers on changing its conception of what is enjoyable. The supreme source of pleasure is Krishna, our all-attractive Lord, whose parts we are eternally. We realize this truth through the purification coming from diligent bhakti practice.

Till such realization dawns, we need to train ourselves to bring the mind back towards Krishna whenever and wherever it wanders, as the Gita (06.26) enjoins. For reorienting the mind thus, we need to find within the realm of bhakti things that we feel natural affinity to. If we make such attractive spiritual sense objects easily accessible, refocusing on Krishna becomes less strenuous and more relishable.

By consistent contact with Krishna, the mind gradually becomes purified and increasingly relishes higher happiness in him. Thereafter, it will habitually move towards him even when worldly objects allure it away from him. Such a retrained mind will be our best friend.

Between the extremes of pantheism and deism lies the holism of panentheism

Pantheism equates God with nature. It implies that whatever exists in nature is all that there is to God, that he has no self-existence beyond nature. Such pantheistic notions imply that nothing exists beyond temporary material nature, thereby rendering fantastical our longing for lasting life.

In contrasts, deism holds that God exists entirely beyond this world. He is the world’s first cause, having set it in motion. But thereafter, things function wholly according to mechanical laws. Such deistic notions make prayer pointless because God is held to have no power for responding to prayers by intervening within nature’s functioning.

The Gita’s theology avoids both these extremes of pantheism and deism. It underscores God’s immanence, even devoting its entire tenth chapter to explaining how his divine opulence manifests in this world’s attractive things. Appreciating God’s immanence makes us realize his eminent accessibility. Meditating on him doesn’t require withdrawing from the world – we can train ourselves to let the world’s attractive things spur our thoughts towards him.

Simultaneously, the Gita highlights God’s transcendence. It (09.05) indicates that God’s self-existence is not exhausted by being distributed throughout nature. He exists as the ultimate transcendental reality, the all-attractive Supreme Person Krishna. He is not an aloof first principle, but is a lovable and loving person.

This vision of God is best described as panentheism, which means that God exists both within nature and beyond it. The Bhagavad-gita (07.19) points to this holistic understanding when it declares that the wise know Krishna to be everything and surrender not to everything, but to Krishna. Why? Because they know that Krishna is not just everything, but is more than everything. He is the immanent sustainer of everything and the source of everything’s attractiveness – and the transcendent embodiment and fulfillment of our longing for everlasting love.

In worrying about what all may go wrong, we go wrong

Worrying hurts us even before things go wrong, while things are going wrong and after things have gone wrong.

Consider a student with a decent memory preparing for an exam. Whatever they can memorize, they can memorize only in the present. If they worry about whether they will recollect things during the exam, that worry will interrupt their present memorization.

Moreover, when things go wrong, when, say, during the exam, they can’t remember an answer, their habitual worrying will make them dread that they will forget other answers too. The resulting panic will prevent them from jogging their memory to ferret out the answer that was lying just below the surface of their memory.

And after things have gone wrong, when their panic has made them underperform in one exam, their compulsive worrying will make them imagine similar fiascos in future exams, thus undermining their preparations.

Thus, worrying doesn’t prevent things from going wrong; instead, it makes things go more wrong than necessary. However, for those habituated to worrying, the simple exhortation “don’t worry” doesn’t help much. Pertinently, the Bhagavad-gita (18.35) cautions that compulsive worrying characterizes determination in the mode of ignorance. As long as our consciousness remains in the mode of ignorance, our thoughts will race down the tracks of worry automatically, unintentionally, compulsively.

To counter the worrying habit most effectively, we need to practice bhakti-yoga for raising our consciousness from ignorance towards goodness and transcendence. By invoking Krishna’s calming presence in our heart, bhakti practices help us replace the habit of worrying with the habits of working and worshiping: working in a mood of devotional service to do what is in our capacity; and worshipping to strengthen our faith that, as the Gita (18.58) reassures, things beyond our capacity will be taken care of by Krishna’s grace.

Get serious about not taking yourself too seriously

People who are too stuck-up, standoffish, finicky are told, “Lighten up. Don’t take things so seriously.” Such people who take themselves too seriously make small things big, subjecting themselves to unnecessary pressure.

Of course, there’s danger at the other extreme too: we may be frivolous and not take things seriously enough. Certainly, we have many responsibilities that need to be taken seriously. But paradoxically, only by taking some things lightly can we take other things seriously.

Our present existence is bi-level: material and spiritual. Our many worldly attachments make us take material things too seriously. We expect, even insist, that the world work according to our plans – and if it doesn’t, that will be the end of the world.

With Gita wisdom, we understand that whatever happens at the material level, no matter how big and threatening it seems, is temporary. Further, the understanding that we as spiritual beings are indestructible brings solace. Moreover, we are not God, but are his parts meant to serve him in whatever situation come our way. The Bhagavad-gita (02.15) assures that those who stay equipoised in happiness and distress attain the eternal.

When we take seriously the truth that we are not the controllers – and don’t have to be – we become progressively enriched with many precious insights: Our present life is just one flash in an existence that endures for eternity; we are just tiny beings in a vast cosmos, wherein we have been taken care of for many lifetimes by something far bigger than ourselves; that higher reality will take care of us henceforth too. These insights usher calmness and clarity, thereby enabling us to focus seriously on that which matters most: our relationship of loving service with Krishna. Therein, we contribute our best and ultimately achieve the best: life and love eternal with Krishna.