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.