The ancient Indian text the Bhagavad Gita tells the semihistorical story of a civil war that took place in India approximately 3,600 years ago. It’s also an allegory to explain the fundamental truths of life, growth, and spiritual evolution. The battle is a metaphor for the ongoing struggle between the light and dark forces of nature. As the story opens, we find our hero, the great warrior Arjun, slumped down in his chariot, riddled with fear and anxiety—and with way too many questions. Luckily for Arjun, his charioteer is none other than the Hindu god Krishna in disguise, who spends the next 18 chapters in a prolonged discussion with Arjun, teaching him about life and death.
I first read the Gita in my early twenties, when I was just starting out in life. I found the story more confusing than enlightening. One line, in particular, stuck in my craw. Krishna tells Arjun, “You are not entitled to the fruit of your labor—only the labor itself.”
I was perplexed. Why couldn’t I have the fruit? I was working hard for it. I wanted fame and notoriety. I wanted to get paid so I could buy crap! This was why I worked. I wanted it—and I wanted it now, dammit! I wasn’t doing good work for the pleasure of it; I was only concerned with the fruit it would bear. The reality is, I suffered, because I didn’t understand.
What time and patience have taught me is the truth of that beautiful line: If you focus on the reward, you’ll never be happy. The fruit—the money, the fame, the whatever—will never be enough. Even further, focusing on the reward means not focusing on the work. The process becomes secondary, and we learn to hate the process. We loathe Mondays and thank god for Fridays. Our daily lives become the dullness between paydays.
For great artists, writers, scientists, the process of creation is the reward. The process of learning and growing, and all the intermittent victories and defeats are the reward.
Learn to enjoy struggle. The reward will take care of itself.
