Just as the science of spirituality (Adhyātma-śāstra) explains the doctrine of destiny (prārabdha), it also proclaims the path of karma yoga — the discipline of selfless action. It strongly upholds the value of earnest effort (prayatna-vāda). However, it does not confuse effort with destiny. One must exert oneself to the fullest — using all one’s strength, applying all one’s skill, acquiring the necessary knowledge, devoting sufficient time, and making tireless efforts. One should strive immensely, but whatever final outcome results from those efforts should be joyfully accepted as destiny (prārabdha). On the battlefield of Mahābhārata, Bhagwan Śrī Krishna repeatedly urges Arjuna and says ‘you must fight’. Arjuna, deluded by attachment and attempting to flee the battlefield—that is, trying to abandon his duty out of fear of its consequences— is prepared by Krishna to stand firm and face the war. As a warrior, to perform his rightful duty in battle, Arjuna possesses immense strength, valor, courage, skill, and an abundance of all the warrior qualities. He has earned them through his own persistent efforts. Arjuna is conscious of the deed (Karma), yet he remains unaware of the path of equanimity in action. Engaging in the battle is Arjuna’s rightful duty (kartavya-karma). The success or failure that comes from it is entirely determined by the law of prārabdha (predestined outcomes). Bhagwan Śrī Krishna encourages Arjuna saying – ‘If you win, you will gain the kingdom of the earth; if you fall in battle, you will attain heaven’, since these two outcomes are predetermined by prārabdha, one should not dwell upon it while performing one’s duties. When the mind is preoccupied with the thought of outcomes, it hinders dedication to action. When the (predestined) outcomes are uncertain, actions that ought to be done with resolve are no longer performed with ease; and dwelling about the outcome which is already destined by prārabdha—becomes a great hindrance to performing one’s work to the best of one’s ability.
Every action is governed by sacred injunctions and prohibitions. One should perform an act strictly according to the ordained rites, shunning what is forbidden, while remaining indifferent to personal gain or loss. In doing so, one naturally follows justice, ethics, and righteousness. Such a conduct makes the mind pure and serene; a mind so purified keeps one happy. While human life is driven by the pursuit for happiness, is the way shown by spiritual science not essential? Since the bond between action and human existence is both perpetual and profound, it is imperative to examine its nature with greater precision and detail. For this purpose, actions (karma) must be understood by dividing them into certain categories.
As purity of action is essential, so is detachment from its outcomes. One may ask a question: Which action can truly be performed without desire for its fruits? Instead of analyzing actions as kāmya (desire-motivated) or prāyaśchitta (atonement), let us look at them from the perspective of our day to day life. Human action can be categorized into five distinct dimensions: physical sustenance (Dehakarma), professional engagement (vyavasāyakarma), moral obligations (Kartavyakarma), righteous conduct (Dharmakarma), and spiritual transcendence (adhyātma-karma). Among these, professional work naturally involves an expectation of results — in the form of salary, remuneration, or honorarium. While bathing, eating, exercise, and similar actions related to the body are meant for protecting the body, so they must also be considered desire-driven. Obligatory duties, however, must always be free from desire for their outcomes. For example, a father should not fulfill his duties toward his son with the expectation to get something in return, such as – my son will look after him in the future. Human life becomes profoundly afflicted with suffering when it is driven by such attachments and expectations.
The spiritual path dictates that duties must be performed selflessly (Nishkam). Ritualistic duties such as yajña (Sacred offering), sandhyā (daily prayers), and vaiśvadeva (worshiping divine in all beings) offerings must always be performed without any attachment to their outcomes. When actions are performed selflessly, the anxiety of waiting for an uncertain outcome disappears, and the mind becomes tranquil. In essence, failure to obtain the desired result no longer brings agitation, and the mind remains steady and serene. Emotions like disappointment, anger and revenge do not arise. The intellect makes a firm resolve to remain oriented toward sādhanā (spiritual practice). The goal of spiritual action (adhyātma-karma) is liberation (moka). These actions can be learnt from following verses —
परि संतांसवें वसतां । योगज्ञानी पैसतां ।। गुरुचरण उपासितां । वैराग्येसी ।। (ज्ञाने. १५.४२२) येणोंचि सत्कमें ।अशेषही अज्ञान विरमे ।। जयांचें अहं विश्रामे । आत्मरुपी ।। (ज्ञाने. १५.४२३)
“In the company of saints who are both well versed in scriptures and firmly established in the realization of Brahman, dispassionately serving at the feet of the Guru, and to cultivate detachment — these form the essence of true spiritual practice – (adhyātma-karmas).” (Jñāneśwarī 15.422)
“Through the noble disciplines of meditation (dhyāna) and knowledge (jñāna), all ignorance is completely destroyed — meditation removes the ignorance that causes identification with the body, and knowledge dispels the veil that hides the Self. When the seeker’s sense of ‘I’ withdraws from the body and finds rest in the nature of Brahman, the Self is realized.” (Jñāneśwarī 15.423)
One should keep company of the saints and listen to their simple yet profoundly meaningful words of wisdom (Tukārām Gāthā, Jog 2787). From them, one should learn the various paths of Yoga and establish its understanding with unwavering conviction. By serving the Guru as needed and by inculcating dispassion, one should advance steadily on the path. Through such adhyātma-karma (spiritual practice), the ego-centered individual — the sense of ‘I’ — finds peace in its true nature, the Self (Ātma-svarūpa).
An action (Karma) deserves to be called Karma Yoga only when it steers an individual toward the experience of “I am Brahman” – realizing nonduality between Jīva and Ātman. However, along with the renunciation of desire for expected outcomes, the attitude of ‘I am the doer’ must also be relinquished. Human life is plagued by profound inner turmoil due to the desire for credit. Expressions such as ‘I did this,’ ‘It happened because of me,’ or ‘Who knows what would have occurred without me’ are the hallmark languages of credit-seeking egoism. The craving for recognition leads to unrest, envy, hatred, contempt, and anger and so forth. The spiritual-science points out that the individual being (jīva) is only an instrument – a means through which action takes place. According to the doctrine of prārabdha, a person merely serves as the means and medium for another persons’ predestined experiences of joy or sorrow. Hence, the question of someone doing or not doing something for another does not even arise. Therefore actions must be performed with the understanding that they are either commanded by Īśvara (God) or an expression of His will. They should be performed dispassionately, free from attachment or aversion, and in accordance with the scriptural wisdom revealed by the seers. In this way, doership is rightfully credited to God, not with the individual.
‘Be merely an instrument, O Arjuna,’ says Bhagwan Śrī Krishna (Gītā 11.33). When a warrior performs his duty in accordance with warrior (kṣātradharma), even the terrible act of killing thousands in battle does not bind with doership. Hence, the responsibility for such action rests upon the dharma itself, not upon the individual. By taking it upon himself, Arjuna became overwhelmed with sorrow. Throughout human history war has been a necessity since the very beginning. A ‘war-free world’ is merely a dream – a subject fit for idealistic discussion, not for reality. Even today, wars continue in regions like Sri Lanka, Somalia, Bosnia, Kashmir, and so forth. To conclude, people who fulfill the obligatory duty of war exist in every nation.
The scriptures on righteousness (Dharma-shastra) state that a king must put an end to injustice. According to the law of Prārabdha, if injustice takes place, it is also a duty under Dharma to stand firmly against it and to seek justice. One must stand against injustice because the scriptures command it. When injustice is done, it is the duty of the king to deliver justice. Justice is not obtained unless it is sought — so it must be demanded, and every effort must be made to obtain it. However, while making such efforts, one should think rationally with complete calmness and act with composure, for even after putting best efforts, there is no certainty that justice will necessarily be served. The reason lies in whether one’s destiny (Prārabdha) is favorable or unfavorable.
Throughout humanity’s cruel history, countless innocent people and living beings have been slain. Even in such situations, when the opportunity arises, it is man’s duty to make the utmost effort. Whether justice is obtained or not is determined by Prārabdha. The distinction between justice and injustice is a complex topic. Let us understand it with an example: according to the then British established colonial legal system, sentencing Bhagat Singh to death was deemed just; but in the context of India’s freedom struggle, it was indeed an act of injustice.
Additionally, if an eyewitness to a murder kills the murderer after the murderer is acquitted, it would be a moral justice but legally, an injustice. He would be accused of taking the law into their own hands. In this context, it is worth remembering a verse from Bhagavad Gītā, ‘What is action and what is inaction? Even the wise find it difficult to determine’ (Gītā 4.16).
Īśvara (God) Whose design is this system of destiny? Who holds the reins of this invisible order? Is that authority tangible or formless? Compassionate or merciless? Emotional or Mechanical? Spiritual science states that a formless principle called God is the creator and controller of destiny. This cosmic order is believed to function smoothly through His mere will. Hence, it is concluded that Īśvara (God) is a principle established only through scriptures and, at most, through reasoning. That ‘principle’ is never visible with the eyes in a specific form, nor can it be shown to anyone. Therefore, in pure scientific view, God or Īśvara cannot be proven by empirical standards. Yet, all religions, in one way or another, have accepted the existence of Īśvara (God). All religions have described the Divine in human form — calling it an ‘Avatar’ or a ‘Prophet.’ When the scriptures are accepted with utmost faith, reasoning becomes unnecessary; but where faith falls short, reason must be applied. Let us, therefore, attempt to put forth this reasoning, not in the conventional way, but in the context of modern science.
There is no denying that humankind has achieved vast, remarkable, and extraordinary scientific progress. However, is humankind capable of creating even a single new element, without using the fundamental elements already available in nature by sheer willpower or conscious will? We need to reflect deeply on the very scope of this question.
The Ātman is an unbroken, eternal flow of happiness and bliss.
By the power of mind or will alone, humankind cannot create a new element — nor even reproduce what already is. This raises a deeper question: if man did not create these fundamental elements, then who did? The answer ‘Nature’ doesn’t pass the test of logic. All creation must spring from consciousness, for it is an eternal law that nothing can emerge from the insentient.
Humankind has developed many new varieties of rice, wheat, and barley. At most, we can create a different grain by modifying what already exists. But no one has ever created an entirely new seed, fruit, animal, bird, or insect through their willpower. By intervening in genetic structure, it may become possible to create human beings with specific traits, to remove hereditary diseases, or to produce gifted artists and athletes. Yet, the male and female reproductive seeds themselves cannot be created — only the existing ones can be used. A human body cannot be created in a laboratory, even by using the elements available in the universe. Death is inescapable.
It is unreasonable to say that all this has come into being by itself. The one whom reason compels us to acknowledge as the wondrous, incomprehensible, and unseen creator of the universe is Īśvara. The scriptures describe Him as self-existent, omniscient, omnipotent, and the eternal witness of all. He is the epitome of knowledge and might. Here human intellect reaches its limit — beyond this begins the domain of faith. The human brain itself is a gift from Īśvara (God); therefore, it ultimately has no choice but to place faith in Him. Meditation is one of the means by which true knowledge arises, and it must be accepted that the sages attained realization through this very path. They articulated that knowledge in words and made it accessible to us. The trust placed in their revealed wisdom is what is known as śraddhā (faith). Īśvara (God), in His true nature, is formless, yet through the power of devotion, He momentarily assumes form — as testified by the experience of many saints.
True nature of faith cannot be understood until one learns to distinguish between hypocrites—who tell fanciful stories for personal gain—and genuine saints, who, though detached from the world, work selflessly for the sake of humanity.
Śrī Jñāndev chose to take samādhi beneath the temple itself, didn’t ask for a piece of land nor did his disciples raise funds. In his time there were no monasteries or trusts in his name, nor did he receive any state patronage. His life was sustained by simplicity—using the temple porch to sleep, living on alms, and wearing plain clothes. Why would such saints deceive society? Saints whose very nature is egoless humility (amānitva) cannot fabricate stories for personal gain. The trust placed in their words is what is called faith (śraddhā).
Embrace reflections that nurture the realization ‘I am Brahman,’ and relinquish those that hinder the experience of this truth.
The order of prārabdha established by God governs all living beings, and to accept that order peacefully is Īśvara-śaraṇāgati, surrendering to God. Such a surrender does not stifle human ability, does not encourage helplessness, dependency, or despair. It is free from emotional outbursts, laziness, or negativity; it neither rejects prosperity nor glorifies poverty. It mocks neither wealth nor simplicity, but stands firm in balance—without arrogance in affluence and without servility in want.
