An Enlightening Look at The Eternal Nature Of The Soul
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This session explores the eternal nature of the soul, drawing from the timeless wisdom of the Bhagavad Gita to address the modern affliction of analysis paralysis. When faced with overwhelming decisions, we often become like the warrior Arjuna on the battlefield—paralyzed by doubt and grief. The solution offered by Sri Krishna is not a simple command, but a profound shift in perspective grounded in understanding the eternal nature of the soul. This core teaching on the eternal nature of the soul provides a path from confusion to clarity. By grasping the eternal nature of the soul, we can find the strength to act with purpose. Learning about the eternal nature of the soul is the first step toward inner peace.
From Analysis Paralysis to Divine Clarity
Arjuna, though speaking words of wisdom, was emotionally crumbling. Krishna gently points out this contradiction, noting that the truly wise do not grieve for that which is temporary. This introduces the foundational concept of the eternal nature of the soul. Krishna’s teaching dismantles the root cause of Arjuna’s sorrow: his identification with the temporary physical body. This lesson on the eternal nature of the soul is a direct remedy for the suffering caused by our own mental proliferation, a phenomenon the Buddha called ‘papanca’. Understanding the eternal nature of the soul is the key to cutting through this unproductive mental chatter.
The Unchanging Self in a Changing World
Sri Krishna’s ultimate proof for the eternal nature of the soul lies in verse 2.13: “Just as the embodied soul continuously passes from childhood to youth to old age, similarly, at the time of death, the soul passes into another body”. We do not mourn our childhood body; we see it as a natural progression. This same logic applies to death. The teaching on the eternal nature of the soul is even supported by modern science, which confirms our bodies are in a constant state of cellular flux. You are physically not the same person you were as a baby, yet your consciousness—your true Self—remains constant. This constant is the very evidence of the eternal nature of the soul. The Sankhya yoga framework further explains this with its three-body doctrine, detailing how the soul journeys through gross, subtle, and causal bodies. This framework helps us comprehend the eternal nature of the soul.
Realizing Your Immortal Identity
Grasping the eternal nature of the soul transforms our relationship with life and death. The fear of death is rooted in false identification with the temporary body. Mystics across traditions, from Rumi’s poetry on the soul’s evolution to Ramana Maharshi’s self-inquiry method of “Who am I?”, have taught paths to realize this truth. These teachings all point to the same reality: we are not the perishable body, but the immortal consciousness within. Embracing the eternal nature of the soul is the key to fearlessness and liberation. This foundational wisdom on the eternal nature of the soul is central to all of Vedanta. The eternal nature of the soul is a concept that offers profound freedom.
If you have not already done so, I would request you to review the Chapter 1, Arjuna Vishada Yoga before studying chapter 2 as that would help set the right context.
You can also listen to all the episodes through my Spotify Portal. And here on YouTube as well.
Verse 2.10 – 2.13
तमुवाच हृषीकेशः प्रहसन्निव भारत ।
सेनयोरूभयोर्मध्ये विषीदन्तमिदं वचः ॥10॥
tam uvāca hṛṣīkeśaḥ prahasann iva bhārata
senayor ubhayor madhye viṣīdantam idaṁ vacaḥ
Sanjaya said: O Dhritarashtra, thereafter, in the midst of both the armies, Shree Krishna smilingly spoke the following words to the grief-stricken Arjuna.
श्रीभगवानुवाच |
अशोच्यानन्वशोचस्त्वं प्रज्ञावादांश्च भाषसे |
गतासूनगतासूंश्च नानुशोचन्ति पण्डिता: ||11||
śhrī bhagavān uvācha
aśhochyān-anvaśhochas-tvaṁ prajñā-vādānśh cha bhāṣhase
gatāsūn-agatāsūnśh-cha nānuśhochanti paṇḍitāḥ
The Supreme Lord said: While you speak words of wisdom like a pandit, you are mourning for that which is not worthy of grief. The wise lament neither for the living nor for the dead.
न त्वेवाहं जातु नासं न त्वं नेमे जनाधिपा |
न चैव न भविष्याम: सर्वे वयमत: परम् ||12||
na tvevāhaṁ jātu nāsaṁ na tvaṁ neme janādhipāḥ
na chaiva na bhaviṣhyāmaḥ sarve vayamataḥ param
Never was there a time when I did not exist, nor you, nor all these kings and nor in the future shall any of us cease to be.
देहिनोऽस्मिन्यथा देहे कौमारं यौवनं जरा |
तथा देहान्तरप्राप्तिर्धीरस्तत्र न मुह्यति ||13||
dehino ‘smin yathā dehe kaumāraṁ yauvanaṁ jarā
tathā dehāntara-prāptir dhīras tatra na muhyati
Just as the embodied soul continuously passes from childhood to youth to old age, similarly, at the time of death, the soul passes into another body. The wise are not deluded by this.
Arjuna’s Analysis Paralysis
The vast battlefield of Kurukshetra had become more than just a ground for war. It had transformed into the most profound classroom in human history. Here we witness Arjuna, one of the greatest warriors of his age, his mind churning like a storm-tossed ocean. If I write it poetically, I would say it was like “waves of emotions crashing against the shores of his consciousness”. Grief, doubt, fear, and the pull of righteousness each surge through him, pulling him in different directions until he finds himself utterly incapable of action.
We touched upon this in the previous section. This profound psychological state has a name in Western philosophy that resonates deeply with our modern experience. It’s called “Analysis Paralysis,” where too much thinking paralyzes our mind and makes us incapable of decisive action. We’ve all stood at these crossroads of the mental maze at some point in our lives.
Picture yourself scrolling endlessly through product reviews, comparing smartphone specifications late into the night, your initial excitement about a simple purchase transforming into an overwhelming cloud of confusion. Days pass, spreadsheets are created, friends are consulted, yet the decision becomes more elusive with each piece of information consumed. This is the modern face of an ancient human predicament. When the very tool meant to guide us, our analytical mind, becomes the obstacle preventing us from moving forward.
The remedy for such mental gridlock often lies in seeking wisdom from those who have walked the path before us. When drowning in relationship doubts, we turn to parents who have experience in navigating the complexities of close relationships. When vacation planning becomes a source of stress rather than joy, we seek a trusted travel agent’s expertise. And here, on the battlefield of Kurukshetra, in his moment of ultimate need, Arjuna turns to the Jagad Guru, the World Teacher, Sri Krishna himself.
Buddha’s Ancient Wisdom: Understanding Papanca
Twenty-five centuries ago, Lord Buddha identified this same psychological phenomenon, naming it ‘Papanca’ or ‘Prapanca’ in Pali. This term perfectly captures the mind’s tendency to proliferate thoughts endlessly, spinning webs of unnecessary complexity that trap us in suffering. According to Buddhist philosophy, papanca emerges from our desperate clinging to permanence in an impermanent world, our craving for a fixed identity in a universe of constant change. This mental process creates a seemingly endless cycle of thoughts, feelings, and emotions, leading to restlessness, anxiety, and unhappiness.
The Buddha illustrated this concept through a penetrating parable. Imagine a man writhing in agony, a poisoned arrow lodged deep in his flesh. A skilled healer arrives, ready to extract the arrow and save his life. But instead of accepting immediate treatment, the wounded man begins questioning. “Who shot this arrow? What made them shoot at someone as good as myself? Was it a man or a woman? What wood was the arrow made from? ….”
The healer, with infinite patience, responds, “My friend, I can answer all these questions if you truly believe the answers will heal your wound. But while we discuss all these details, the poison will spread through your veins and kill you.”
In that moment of clarity, the man recognizes the futility of his mental proliferation (papanca). His questions, born from anger, fear, and the need to assign blame, only intensify his suffering. The urgent need is not to understand why the arrow was shot, but to remove it before the poison claims his life. This is the essence of papanca. Our mind’s tendency to create suffering through endless, unproductive mental elaboration when what we need is direct, skillful action.
The Inner Arrow: Buddha’s Personal Awakening
Buddha himself composed a deeply personal poem about samvega, the urgent spiritual agitation that propelled him toward enlightenment.
I will tell you how I experienced samvega.
Seeing people floundering like fish in small puddles,
competing with one another.
As I saw this, fear came into me.
The world was entirely without substance.
All the directions were knocked out of line.
Wanting a haven for myself, I saw nothing that wasn’t laid claim to.
Seeing nothing in the end but competition, I felt discontent.
This vision of humanity reduced to gasping fish in shrinking puddles, frantically competing for diminishing resources, pierced Buddha’s heart with existential urgency. But his insight deepened when he looked within.
And then I saw an arrow here,
so very hard to see, embedded in the heart.
Overcome by this arrow we run in all directions.
But simply on pulling it out
we don’t run, we don’t sink.
This inner arrow represents papanca itself, the mental tendency that drives us into conflict with ourselves and others. The Buddha’s prescription was mindfulness, the practice of observing our thoughts and emotions without becoming entangled in their drama. Like a scientist observing an experiment, we step back from our mental processes.
When we witness someone slip and fall on the street, we can calmly analyze what happened. But when we ourselves fall, our ego floods us with embarrassment, anger, and blame. The power of mindful observation lies in removing the ego from the equation, allowing wisdom to emerge from the space of calm detachment.
Krishna’s Divine Composure: The Master of Senses (Hrishikesha)
Now we turn our gaze to Krishna, standing serene amidst the chaos of impending war.
तम् उवाच हृषीकेशः प्रहसन् इव भारत ।
सेनयोः उभयोः मध्ये विषीदन्तम् इदम् वचः ॥ १० ॥
tam uvāca hṛṣīkeśaḥ prahasanniva bhārata
senayorubhayormadhye viṣīdantamidaṁ vacaḥ
Sanjaya said: O Dhritarashtra, thereafter, in the midst of both the armies, Shree Krishna smilingly spoke the following words to the grief-stricken Arjuna.
Here we encounter one of the most striking contrasts in all of literature. Two vast armies are arrayed for mutual destruction, the air thick with testosterone and bloodlust, weapons glinting in the sun, war cries beginning to rise. At the center stands Arjuna, reduced to a trembling mess of doubt and despair. And beside him? Shri Krishna, addressed as Hrishikesha, the Master of the Senses, remains perfectly composed. He is even smiling.
This title “Hrishikesha” reveals itself not through austere withdrawal from the world, but through Shri Krishna’s remarkable composure in the eye of the storm. The Sanskrit phrase “prahasann iva” tells us Shri Krishna is “as if smiling.” This is the gentle smile of one who sees beyond the immediate drama to the eternal truth beneath. His gentle smile is the external sign of one who embodies the state of nirodha.
Nirodha is a state of complete mastery over the mind, where its constant fluctuations are calmed, leading to profound inner stillness and clarity. 🧘
It’s a profound concept most famously defined in Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras.
yogaś-citta-vṛtti-nirodhaḥ (Yoga Sutra 1.2)
Let’s break this down:
Yoga: Union; integration.
Citta: The “mind-field” or consciousness, which includes thoughts, emotions, and memories.
Vṛtti: The modifications, turnings, or “whirlpools” of the mind. These are the constant thoughts and emotional reactions that keep our minds busy.
Nirodhaḥ: Cessation, restraint, or mastery. The word comes from the Sanskrit roots ni (down or in) and rodha (to restrain).
So, the classic definition of Yoga is “the mastery of the fluctuations of the mind.” Nirodha is that state of mastery.
A powerful way to understand nirodha is to think of your mind (citta) as a lake.
The thoughts and emotions (vṛttis) are the ripples and waves on the surface. When the wind of external events and internal reactions blows, the lake’s surface becomes choppy and agitated. In this state, the water is murky, and you can’t see the bottom of the lake (your True Self or Purusha) clearly.
Nirodha is the state where the wind stops, and the lake becomes perfectly still, silent, and glass-like. The water hasn’t disappeared; it has simply ceased its restless movement. In this profound stillness, the lake’s surface can perfectly reflect the sky above and reveal the depths below with absolute clarity.
Now let us revisit the scene to understand it better. One cannot smile when drowning in distress or being in a state of fear. That gentle smile reveals Shri Krishna’s mastery, not just over his senses, but over the very nature of reality itself. This smile comes not from callousness or ignorance, but from a perspective so vast that even this momentous battle appears as a single wave in the ocean of existence, significant yet transient.
From verses 2.11 to 2.38, He will systematically dismantle Arjuna’s confusion with logic, compassion, and profound wisdom. But more importantly, from verse 2.39 onward, He will unveil a philosophy not just for Arjuna, but for all humanity. A teaching that addresses our universal battles, our daily Kurukshetras.
The Wise Never Grieve: Shri Krishna’s Opening Teaching
श्रीभगवान् उवाच ।
अशोच्यान् अन्वशोचः त्वं प्रज्ञा-वदान् च भाषसे ।
गत-असून् अगत-असून् च न अनुशोचन्ति पण्डिताः ॥ ११ ॥
śrī bhagavān uvāca
aśocyān anvaśocas tvaṁ prajñā-vādāṁś ca bhāṣase
gatāsūn agatāsūṁś ca nānuśocanti paṇḍitāḥ
The Supreme Lord said: While you speak words of wisdom like a Pandita, you are mourning for that which is not worthy of grief. The wise lament neither for the living nor for the dead.
With characteristic humor, Shri Krishna’s opening words cut through Arjuna’s elaborate arguments like a sharp sword. He demonstrates His sense of humor by addressing Arjuna as ‘Panditah,’ revealing the crucial distinction between intellectual knowledge and experiential wisdom. In Sanskrit, the word Panditah refers to intellectually advanced people who have an even-minded attitude towards everything. They are people who have control over their minds and who are established in intelligence. A true Panditah is one who maintains sama-darshana, or equal vision, toward all beings and all circumstances. We have seen that Arjuna was definitely not behaving like a Panditah.
Thus, Shri Krishna is calling Arjuna ‘Panditah’ both as a taunt and as a hint on how he is supposed to have control over his mind and behave like a Panditah instead of just talking like one. Yet here stands Arjuna, speaking sophisticated words while crumbling emotionally, a philosopher having a breakdown. Shri Krishna’s gentle mockery serves two purposes. It punctures Arjuna’s pretension while simultaneously reminding him of his true potential. “You speak like a wise man,” Shri Krishna essentially says, “now it’s time to become one.”
This is a powerful lesson for our own information age, where we often mistake the accumulation of knowledge for the attainment of wisdom. We can quote philosophy while our lives remain in chaos. We can discuss spiritual concepts while remaining trapped in emotional turmoil.
The Eternal Nature of the Soul: Revolutionary Truth
न त्वेवाहं जातु नासं न त्वं नेमे जनाधिपाः ।
न चैव न भविष्यामः सर्वे वयमतः परम् ॥ १२ ॥
na tv evāhaṁ jātu nāsaṁ na tvaṁ neme janādhipāḥ
na caiva na bhaviṣyāmaḥ sarve vayam ataḥ param
Never was there a time when I did not exist, nor you, nor all these kings; nor in the future shall any of us cease to be.
With this verse, Shri Krishna introduces one of the most revolutionary concepts in human understanding, the eternal nature of consciousness itself. This is a direct pointing to the fundamental reality underlying all existence. While bodies appear and disappear like waves on the ocean, consciousness, the very essence of what we are, remains as unchanging as the ocean itself.
Modern Science Meets Ancient Wisdom: The Body’s Constant Change
Here’s a thought experiment that shatters our body-identification. The body we inhabit as an adult shares virtually no physical matter with the body we had as an infant. Every cell has died and been reborn. Modern science inadvertently supports this ancient wisdom. Dr. Deepak Chopra, renowned medical expert and spiritualist, bridging ancient wisdom with modern medicine, presents compelling evidence. Medical science confirms that our bodies exist in constant flux.
Blood cells regenerate every few days to several weeks. Skin cells completely renew every 28-30 days. The cells that make up the lining of the small intestine regenerate every 5-7 days. Liver cells have a remarkable ability to regenerate and can do so in just a few weeks. Even our seemingly permanent bones undergo complete renewal over months to years depending on factors such as age, health, and injury.
Based on these facts, by the time we are teenagers, we have none of the cells that we had when we were born. In other words, physically, we have a totally new and different body than what we had at birth. We are, physically speaking, a completely different person. Yet sitting here now, we feel we are the same person who took those first wobbling steps, who spoke those first words. If we were merely the body, this continuity would be impossible. What remains constant? What observes all these changes while itself remaining unchanged? That constant, Dr. Chopra says, is what consciousness is. That constant is the Self, the pure consciousness.
The Soul’s Journey Through Life Stages
देहिनः अस्मिन् यथा देहे कौमारम् यौवनम् जरा ।
तथा देह-अन्तर-प्राप्तिः धीरः तत्र न मुह्यति ॥ १३ ॥
dehino ‘smin yathā dehe kaumāraṁ yauvanaṁ jarā
tathā dehāntara-prāptir dhīras tatra na muhyati
Just as the embodied soul continuously passes from childhood to youth to old age, similarly, at the time of death, the soul passes into another body. The wise are not deluded by this.
This verse is Shri Krishna’s masterpiece of logical reasoning. In verse 2.13, He explains how the human body goes through various stages, from childhood to adulthood and old age. Watch a time-lapse of human life. The infant becomes the toddler, the toddler transforms into the child, the child into the teenager, the teenager into the adult, the adult into the elder. The body changes dramatically, yet something continues through all these transformations. Within a single lifetime, we witness the soul passing through multiple body-identities. We don’t mourn the loss of our five-year-old body when we turn twenty. We understand it’s a natural progression.
Shri Krishna explains that the journey of the soul continues after we leave this body and our soul gets another body as per our karmic entitlement. This process continues until we have settled our karmic balances and realized the true eternal self, after which we get liberation from this cycle of birth and death. Death is simply the final transformation of this lifetime, the soul’s graduation to its next classroom.
The Three Bodies of Sankhya Yoga: Understanding Our Complete Nature
To truly understand this teaching, we must know the architecture of our being. Now let us try to understand the basics of Sankhya Yoga. In Sanskrit, the word ‘sharira’ is used to denote our body. As documented in the vedas and explained in Sankhya yoga, the three-body doctrine provides a framework revealing that what we casually call “the body” is actually a complex system of three interconnected bodies.
The Karana Sharira, the causal body, is the seed-body, the deepest layer of our individual existence. Like a USB drive containing the software of our karmic patterns, desires, and latent tendencies (samskaras), the causal body carries the blueprint of our incarnation from life to life. It’s actually the seed and gives rise to the subtle body. It’s the reason why even newborns display distinct personalities. They arrive with pre-loaded programming from their causal body.
The Sukshma Sharira, our subtle body, is built from the template of the causal body. It consists of our mind, intellect, ego, and life force (prana). Unlike the gross body, this subtle vehicle is indestructible by ordinary means and accompanies the soul from incarnation to incarnation. It continues to exist until we achieve liberation or mukthi. It’s the subtle body that departs during near-death experiences, carries our consciousness through dreams, and ultimately separates from the physical form at death.
The Sthula Sharira is the gross physical body we can see and touch. This is the physical form we identify with most readily, our flesh, blood, bones, and organs. It’s our vehicle for interacting with the material world, yet ironically, it’s the most temporary aspect of our being. Like a rented car, we use it for a journey and then leave it behind.
Liberation vs Bondage: The Two States of the Soul
Understanding this concept transforms our relationship with death and our ego based identity. The Jiva, or individual soul, exists in two states. It can be mukta (liberated) or baddha (conditioned). Liberated souls are eternally engaged in the service of God in His abode. They dwell in divine communion, never falling down to the lower planets, free from the cycle of birth and death. Whereas the conditioned souls, and this includes most of us, have forgotten the service of God since time immemorial. Thus being covered by the two types of material bodies, gross and subtle, they are suffering from miseries in the material world. Wrapped in these bodies like layers of clothing, we mistake the temporary gross bodies as our true self and suffer accordingly.
We should understand this and stop having so much attachment to our gross bodies. We should get over the fear of death and strive hard to attain liberation through devotional service to God. We are not the body but the soul. The body we have when we are an adult is entirely different from the body that we had when we were a baby. Yet, we still feel that we are the same person. So we cannot really be the body because we identify ourselves with something higher, something that has not changed since we were a baby. This thought process should help us realize that we are not our material body. We are the soul which is eternal, just as God is eternal.
The Path of Self-Inquiry: Ramana Maharshi’s Method
Ramana Maharshi, a renowned saint and jivanmukta (liberated being), taught a method of self-enquiry called “Who am I?” which involves negating all qualities and attributes that are not the true self. This process is intended to lead to a direct realization of the self as pure consciousness, beyond body and mind. Through this technique of atma-vichara, one starts by negating all qualities and experiences that are known to be external to the self, such as the body, thoughts, emotions, and experiences. By repeating the question “Who am I?” and examining each answer that arises, the mind is gradually stripped of its attachments and limitations, until only the unchanging, self-luminous consciousness remains.
Here is a quote from Ramana Maharshi that describes this technique: “The mind should be restrained and made to remain in the Heart. Then the Self will shine forth of Its own accord, without the least effort on your part. This is like gold, which remains pure when impurities are removed from it, or like fire which, when wood is added to it, blazes forth. The Self is always shining, but it is covered by impurities.”
Through this process, we peel away layers of false identification. I am not this aging body, I am not these fluctuating emotions, I am not these changing thoughts. What remains when all that changes is negated? Pure consciousness, the eternal witness, the true Self. This is one way to realize that true self.
The Evolution of Consciousness: Rumi’s Mystical Vision
The great sufi saint Rumi captured this cosmic journey in verses of stunning beauty which Swami Mukundananda quotes while explaining these verses. The poem goes like this:
I died as a mineral and became a plant,
I died as plant and became animal,
I died as an animal and I was human.
Why should I fear? When was I less by dying?
Yet once more I shall die, to soar
With angels blest; but even from angelhood
I must pass on: all except God perishes.
Only when I have given up my angel-soul,
Shall I become what no mind has ever conceived.
Oh, let me not exist! for Non-existence
Proclaims in organ tones, To God we shall return.
Each apparent death is a birth into greater complexity, deeper consciousness. The mineral’s death births the plant’s life. The plant’s death enables animal consciousness. The animal’s death allows human self-awareness. And Rumi hints at transformations yet to come. This isn’t mere poetry but a recognition shared across cultures and centuries that consciousness evolves through forms, each death a doorway to expanded being. The journey continues until final merger with the Divine.
This concept of the soul being eternal and passing on from body to body has been accepted by many religions and cultures. This is the same truth that is explained in Sankhya yoga that Shri Krishna is now teaching to Arjuna. The soul being eternal and the body being very temporary is a very important and crucial concept that is central to all of Vedanta. Once we understand and accept this fact, we will be able to understand and appreciate the rest of the teachings of Shri Krishna.
The Transformation: From Battlefield to Sacred Space
Through these four verses, Shri Krishna has laid the foundation for all spiritual wisdom. He transforms the battlefield from a scene of tragedy into a sacred space of awakening, where the deepest truths of existence are revealed through the crucible of human crisis.
Where Arjuna saw only death and loss, Shri Krishna reveals continuity and transformation.
Where Arjuna felt paralyzed by analysis, Krishna offers the clarity of eternal truth.
And where Arjuna grieved for bodies destined to die, Shri Krishna smiles with the knowledge of the immortal soul that can never be slain.
The teaching has only just begun, yet already the landscape of understanding has shifted dramatically. As Shri Krishna prepares to unfold deeper mysteries to his beloved friend, this foundational understanding sets the stage. For how can we discuss duty, action, and the purpose of life if we haven’t first understood what we truly are?
How can Arjuna fulfill his dharma if he remains identified with that which is destined to perish? The journey from confusion to clarity, from mortality to immortality, from fear to fearlessness, has begun.
Hare Krishna!
kṛṣṇadaasa
(Servant of Krishna)