I Thought I Had Anxiety. The Gita Said I Had Too Much Attachment
Riya Kumari | Jun 02, 2025, 19:05 IST
( Image credit : Freepik, Timeslife )
It started like most modern meltdowns: with a Google search, a half-eaten protein bar, and me stress-scrolling through my ex’s LinkedIn page like I was looking for a job at his soul. My therapist was out of office (something about “boundaries” — cute), my friends were tired of my nightly TED Talks on why nobody texts back anymore, and I was one bad hair day away from a full spiritual crisis. That’s when The Bhagavad Gita entered the chat.
I used to think I had anxiety. The tight chest, the restless thoughts, the constant feeling that life was a ticking clock and I was forever five minutes behind. I did all the right things — therapy, journaling, cutting back on caffeine (okay, trying). But something still didn’t shift. The ache wasn’t just in my body. It was in my expectations. My need to know. To plan. To secure. And then one day, on a restless night that felt more like a question than an evening, I opened The Bhagavad Gita. A text I had always thought belonged to priests, philosophers, or at the very least — calmer people. But it met me exactly where I was. Anxious. Uncertain. Gripping too hard. And then it told me something I wasn’t expecting. “You don’t have anxiety. You have attachment.”
THE LIES WE TELL OURSELVES IN THE NAME OF CONTROL
Anxiety is often misunderstood. We call it a disorder, a problem, something to be fixed — when often, it’s a symptom of something deeper: our inability to let go. We cling to things — outcomes, relationships, timelines — as if life owes us an explanation. We tell ourselves we’re “planning ahead” when really, we’re bargaining with the future. We call it “ambition,” but sometimes, it’s just fear with a better wardrobe. What if it doesn’t work out? What if they don’t love me back? What if I try my best and still fail?
These aren’t just anxious thoughts. These are the cries of a mind that believes it must control everything to be okay. The Gita doesn’t tell you to suppress those cries. It tells you to question them. To look closely at the root of suffering — and see that it often lies in attachment, not in reality.
DO THE WORK. LET GO OF THE FRUITS
One of the most well-known lines from the Gita says: You have the right to your actions, but not to the fruits of your actions. It’s uncomfortable advice in a world that teaches us the opposite. We're told to set goals, chase dreams, manifest results. We attach our worth to how things turn out. The job we get. The person who chooses us. The number of likes, followers, offers, promotions.
But the Gita invites us to approach life differently. Show up fully. Give your best. And then — let go. Not because the outcome doesn’t matter. But because your peace should not depend on it. When we learn to detach from the fruit — the result — we begin to taste a different kind of freedom. One that isn’t passive or indifferent, but steady. Rooted. Clear. You’re not abandoning effort. You’re simply refusing to be imprisoned by it.
ATTACHMENT IS BORN OF DESIRE. DESIRE IS BORN OF THOUGHT
Most of us carry deep desires — for love, for success, for stability. There’s nothing wrong with that. Desire, after all, is part of being human. But desire becomes dangerous when it turns into dependency. When our emotional survival becomes tied to something external — something we can’t actually control. And that’s what the Gita warns us about.
It asks us to befriend desire, but not be owned by it. To think clearly, but not be trapped in our thoughts. Because where there is obsession, there is fear. And where there is fear, anxiety follows closely behind. So maybe it’s not that we’re broken. Maybe we’re just holding too tightly to something that was never meant to be gripped so hard — certainty, permanence, validation.
SO, WHAT NOW?
The wisdom of the Gita isn’t just spiritual — it’s profoundly practical. You feel anxious about your career? Focus on the work, not the applause. You fear losing someone? Love them deeply, but know they are not yours to possess. You worry about being enough? Detach from needing to prove it. Start small. Practice awareness, not control.
Replace the question “What if it goes wrong?” with “Will I still be me if it does?” Let that be your anchor. Detachment doesn’t mean not caring. It means caring deeply, but wisely. It means showing up fully without chaining your soul to the outcome.
DETACHMENT ISN’T COLD. IT’S CLARITY.
It means understanding that you can love, strive, create, dream — and still not own any of it. And that’s not depressing. That’s liberating. Anxiety tells you to tighten your grip. The Gita teaches you to loosen it — with grace, not force.
So maybe the next time your mind races, instead of trying to fix it, ask: What am I holding onto that’s holding me back? Then slowly, gently, begin to let go. Not because you don’t care. But because you finally understand — you don’t need to control it to be at peace with it. And that changes everything.
THE LIES WE TELL OURSELVES IN THE NAME OF CONTROL
Outcomes
( Image credit : Pexels )
Anxiety is often misunderstood. We call it a disorder, a problem, something to be fixed — when often, it’s a symptom of something deeper: our inability to let go. We cling to things — outcomes, relationships, timelines — as if life owes us an explanation. We tell ourselves we’re “planning ahead” when really, we’re bargaining with the future. We call it “ambition,” but sometimes, it’s just fear with a better wardrobe. What if it doesn’t work out? What if they don’t love me back? What if I try my best and still fail?
These aren’t just anxious thoughts. These are the cries of a mind that believes it must control everything to be okay. The Gita doesn’t tell you to suppress those cries. It tells you to question them. To look closely at the root of suffering — and see that it often lies in attachment, not in reality.
DO THE WORK. LET GO OF THE FRUITS
Efforts
( Image credit : Pexels )
One of the most well-known lines from the Gita says: You have the right to your actions, but not to the fruits of your actions. It’s uncomfortable advice in a world that teaches us the opposite. We're told to set goals, chase dreams, manifest results. We attach our worth to how things turn out. The job we get. The person who chooses us. The number of likes, followers, offers, promotions.
But the Gita invites us to approach life differently. Show up fully. Give your best. And then — let go. Not because the outcome doesn’t matter. But because your peace should not depend on it. When we learn to detach from the fruit — the result — we begin to taste a different kind of freedom. One that isn’t passive or indifferent, but steady. Rooted. Clear. You’re not abandoning effort. You’re simply refusing to be imprisoned by it.
ATTACHMENT IS BORN OF DESIRE. DESIRE IS BORN OF THOUGHT
Anxiety
( Image credit : Pexels )
Most of us carry deep desires — for love, for success, for stability. There’s nothing wrong with that. Desire, after all, is part of being human. But desire becomes dangerous when it turns into dependency. When our emotional survival becomes tied to something external — something we can’t actually control. And that’s what the Gita warns us about.
It asks us to befriend desire, but not be owned by it. To think clearly, but not be trapped in our thoughts. Because where there is obsession, there is fear. And where there is fear, anxiety follows closely behind. So maybe it’s not that we’re broken. Maybe we’re just holding too tightly to something that was never meant to be gripped so hard — certainty, permanence, validation.
SO, WHAT NOW?
Mind
( Image credit : Pexels )
The wisdom of the Gita isn’t just spiritual — it’s profoundly practical. You feel anxious about your career? Focus on the work, not the applause. You fear losing someone? Love them deeply, but know they are not yours to possess. You worry about being enough? Detach from needing to prove it. Start small. Practice awareness, not control.
Replace the question “What if it goes wrong?” with “Will I still be me if it does?” Let that be your anchor. Detachment doesn’t mean not caring. It means caring deeply, but wisely. It means showing up fully without chaining your soul to the outcome.
DETACHMENT ISN’T COLD. IT’S CLARITY.
So maybe the next time your mind races, instead of trying to fix it, ask: What am I holding onto that’s holding me back? Then slowly, gently, begin to let go. Not because you don’t care. But because you finally understand — you don’t need to control it to be at peace with it. And that changes everything.