Gita on Pain: What Hurts Now Heals Later
Riya Kumari | Jun 25, 2025, 13:18 IST
You know that moment when life punches you in the face—but with like, poetry? Like, your boss gaslights you with a smile, your ex starts a podcast about “growth,” and you’re eating cereal for dinner in your college hoodie from 2013 wondering if your emotional support therapist is ghosting you. Yeah. That kind of moment. And just when you're this close to throwing your phone into the sea (or the group chat), the Bhagavad Gita glides in like the chill best friend with the perfect eyeliner and zero judgment.
There are two kinds of pain. The first is sharp, obvious—the kind that leaves a mark, that people ask you about. The kind that gets sympathy. And then there’s the quiet kind. The pain that comes with waiting, with letting go, with not knowing. The kind that doesn’t break you, but dissolves you from the inside. That’s the kind the Bhagavad Gita speaks to. It doesn’t rush to rescue you. It doesn’t offer false comfort. It witnesses you. It understands you. And then, it reminds you: “This pain you’re in? It’s not the end of the story. It’s the making of you.”
In the Gita, Arjuna doesn’t want to fight. He’s overwhelmed, paralysed. Every reason to run feels valid: he doesn’t want to hurt people, doesn’t want to face loss, doesn’t want to carry the burden of decisions. But Krishna doesn’t tell him, “You’re right, walk away.” He says, “Face it. But with clarity, not confusion.”
Because here’s the truth most of us learn the hard way: Running from pain doesn’t make it go away. It just postpones your growth. Sometimes the only way out is through.
Not every painful experience is damaging. We assume pain means something is wrong. But often, pain means something important is changing. The heartbreak, the rejection, the loss, the silence—they strip away illusions. Not to punish you. But to return you to something real.
The Gita says: “That which is unreal never was. That which is real can never be destroyed.”
So if it left—maybe it was never real. And if it stayed—it doesn’t need to be forced. Pain has a way of simplifying life. Of clarifying what matters.
We live in a world obsessed with immediacy. Healing must be fast. Success must be visible. Emotions must be justified. But the Gita teaches something radically different: timing is sacred. There’s a reason why things unfold the way they do—even if your current chapter feels unfair, incomplete, or confusing.
Just because something hurts now doesn’t mean it won’t make sense later. And just because you can’t see the point doesn’t mean there isn’t one. Trust that the timing of your life isn’t off. It’s just not on your schedule.
One of the most powerful lessons in the Gita is this: “You have a right to the work, not to the fruits of it.”
This isn’t about apathy. It’s about liberation from control. When we attach our peace to results—likes, love, approval, outcomes—we suffer. Because outcomes aren’t always fair. Effort doesn’t always get applause.
Good intentions don’t always lead to good endings. But the act of showing up with integrity—that’s yours. That’s sacred. That’s success. When you live from that space, pain stops becoming a punishment. It becomes a teacher.
Pain makes you feel like you’re breaking. But the Gita says you are unbreakable.
“The soul cannot be cut, burned, drowned, or withered.”
Which means your essence—who you really are—is never at risk. Yes, your heart will break. Yes, your ego will bruise. Yes, your beliefs will shatter. But what’s underneath all that?
Still standing. Still steady. Still whole. When you start living from that inner stillness, pain loses its power to define you.
We spend so much energy trying to avoid pain, fix it, numb it, or outrun it. But sometimes, the only real way to heal is to understand what the pain came to show you. The Bhagavad Gita doesn’t give shortcuts. It gives perspective. It reminds us that the process of becoming often feels like unravelling.
That what you’re calling a breakdown might actually be a breakthrough in disguise. So let it hurt. But also—let it heal. Because what hurts now… may be the very thing that brings you back to yourself later. And in the Gita’s words, that self? Unshaken. Eternal. Already enough.
1. The Pain You Avoid Is Often the Door You Need to Walk Through
Pain
( Image credit : Pexels )
In the Gita, Arjuna doesn’t want to fight. He’s overwhelmed, paralysed. Every reason to run feels valid: he doesn’t want to hurt people, doesn’t want to face loss, doesn’t want to carry the burden of decisions. But Krishna doesn’t tell him, “You’re right, walk away.” He says, “Face it. But with clarity, not confusion.”
Because here’s the truth most of us learn the hard way: Running from pain doesn’t make it go away. It just postpones your growth. Sometimes the only way out is through.
2. Everything That Hurts Is Not Harm
Clarity
( Image credit : Pexels )
Not every painful experience is damaging. We assume pain means something is wrong. But often, pain means something important is changing. The heartbreak, the rejection, the loss, the silence—they strip away illusions. Not to punish you. But to return you to something real.
The Gita says: “That which is unreal never was. That which is real can never be destroyed.”
So if it left—maybe it was never real. And if it stayed—it doesn’t need to be forced. Pain has a way of simplifying life. Of clarifying what matters.
3. This Moment Is Not the Whole Picture
Forever
( Image credit : Pexels )
We live in a world obsessed with immediacy. Healing must be fast. Success must be visible. Emotions must be justified. But the Gita teaches something radically different: timing is sacred. There’s a reason why things unfold the way they do—even if your current chapter feels unfair, incomplete, or confusing.
Just because something hurts now doesn’t mean it won’t make sense later. And just because you can’t see the point doesn’t mean there isn’t one. Trust that the timing of your life isn’t off. It’s just not on your schedule.
4. Detach From Outcome. Stay Rooted in Action
Race
( Image credit : Pexels )
One of the most powerful lessons in the Gita is this: “You have a right to the work, not to the fruits of it.”
This isn’t about apathy. It’s about liberation from control. When we attach our peace to results—likes, love, approval, outcomes—we suffer. Because outcomes aren’t always fair. Effort doesn’t always get applause.
Good intentions don’t always lead to good endings. But the act of showing up with integrity—that’s yours. That’s sacred. That’s success. When you live from that space, pain stops becoming a punishment. It becomes a teacher.
5. The Soul Isn’t Fragile. You’re Stronger Than You Know
Soul
( Image credit : Pexels )
Pain makes you feel like you’re breaking. But the Gita says you are unbreakable.
“The soul cannot be cut, burned, drowned, or withered.”
Which means your essence—who you really are—is never at risk. Yes, your heart will break. Yes, your ego will bruise. Yes, your beliefs will shatter. But what’s underneath all that?
Still standing. Still steady. Still whole. When you start living from that inner stillness, pain loses its power to define you.
CONCLUSION
That what you’re calling a breakdown might actually be a breakthrough in disguise. So let it hurt. But also—let it heal. Because what hurts now… may be the very thing that brings you back to yourself later. And in the Gita’s words, that self? Unshaken. Eternal. Already enough.