Krishna's Message for Those Who Want to Walk Away
Ankit Gupta | May 16, 2025, 23:42 IST
Krishna’s wisdom does not chain you to the world. It sets you free from illusion. He never says, “Stay and suffer.” He says, “Act from your soul, not your sorrow.” Walk away if you must — but not from your Self.
“Na tvevāhaṁ jātu nāsaṁ na tvaṁ neme janādhipāḥ,
Na chaiva na bhaviṣyāmaḥ sarve vayam ataḥ param.”
— Bhagavad Gita 2.12
(“There was never a time when I did not exist, nor you, nor all these kings; nor in the future shall any of us cease to be.”)
There are moments in every life when silence feels more comforting than speech, when retreat feels nobler than resistance, and when walking away seems like the only way to preserve the last shred of sanity. Whether it's a job that drains your soul, a relationship that suffocates your identity, or a life path that no longer resonates with your essence — the desire to walk away is not a weakness. It is a cry from the innermost being for alignment, authenticity, and peace.
But how do we walk away without guilt? How do we distinguish between cowardice and wisdom? Between escaping and evolving? The Bhagavad Gita, a divine dialogue between the warrior Arjuna and Lord Krishna, is perhaps the most compassionate scripture for such moments of inner crisis. It doesn't preach endurance for its own sake, nor glorify walking away as a romantic rebellion. Instead, it offers nuanced clarity: not a command, but an invitation — to understand the real reason behind your desire to quit.
Let us walk into this sacred conversation to explore what Krishna truly says to the one who wants to walk away.
The entire Bhagavad Gita begins with a hero who wants to quit. Arjuna, a mighty warrior with unmatched skill and righteousness, is paralyzed not by fear of defeat but by the unbearable burden of dharma (righteous duty). Standing on the battlefield of Kurukshetra, facing friends, teachers, and family members on the other side, he collapses.
“My limbs give way, my mouth is dry, my body trembles, my hair stands on end… I will not fight.” (Gita 1.28-30)
Arjuna wanted to walk away — not out of selfishness, but out of empathy. He saw no victory in killing those he loved. He questioned the very idea of duty when it came with blood. He saw his identity melting away in the face of impossible choices. And this is where Krishna steps in — not to scold him, but to reveal the deeper vision.
Krishna’s response is not immediate chastisement. He listens. He lets Arjuna express his despair. And only then does he begin his gentle but transformative teaching — beginning not with theology, but psychology.
“Karmanye vadhikaraste, Ma phaleshu kadachana…”
At the heart of the desire to walk away lies a spiritual misconception — that we must stay only if we are guaranteed success, peace, or results. But Krishna turns this equation upside down. He says: Your job is to act, not to control outcomes. If your actions are aligned with dharma — even when painful — they are worthy. Walking away because results aren't showing is rooted in attachment, not clarity.
This teaching is liberating. It allows you to stay engaged in life without being entangled by it. It gives you the freedom to walk away from expectations, not effort. Krishna’s message here is not "stay and suffer" — it is “act, surrender, let go.”
“Shreyan swadharmo vigunah paradharmat svanushthitat…”
Sometimes we want to walk away because we are walking a borrowed path. We’ve adopted someone else’s dreams, someone else’s definitions of success, someone else’s lifestyle. It doesn’t fit anymore. We are strangers to ourselves, living lives that don’t nourish us.
Krishna acknowledges this existential discomfort. He says — even if your personal path is imperfect, it is your path. A flawed life lived in truth is greater than a polished lie. Walking away from paradharma (another’s dharma) is not only permissible, it is often necessary. But you must walk towards something — your authentic dharma — not merely away from pain.
“Asamshayam Mahābāho Mano Durnigraham Chalam…”
One of the deepest reasons people walk away from life or purpose is mental exhaustion. The mind becomes a battlefield — scattered, depressed, anxious. Krishna admits this reality with profound compassion. He does not minimize the suffering. He says: Yes, the mind is turbulent. But it is not unconquerable.
The medicine he offers is twofold:
Abhyasa – consistent spiritual practice.Vairagya – detachment from fleeting desires and fears.This is not a call to repression, but to inner strengthening. You don’t have to walk away from life to find peace. You must walk within. From that center, the chaos outside loses its power to define you.
“Api ched asi pāpebhyah sarvebhyah pāpakrittamah,
Sarvam jñāna-plavenaiva vrijinam santarishyasi.”
Many people want to walk away because they feel unworthy. Their past haunts them. Mistakes, betrayals, addictions, failures — they feel irredeemable. Krishna, the master of hearts, speaks directly to this shame. He says: Even if you are the worst of sinners, knowledge can carry you across like a boat over a flood.
This is not just intellectual knowledge, but the wisdom of your divine nature. You are not the sum total of your wounds. You are the eternal Atman — untouched, radiant, ever-pure. Krishna doesn’t erase your past. He transcends it. And he invites you to do the same.
“Aham Atma Gudakesha Sarva-Bhutasaya Sthitah…”
One of the loneliest feelings in moments of despair is the illusion of isolation. You feel abandoned — by people, by God, by yourself. Krishna gently pierces this illusion. He says: I am not in heaven, far away. I am in your own heart. I am you, and you are Me.
You do not need to reach out. You only need to look in. Walking away from the world cannot separate you from Him, because He is the world — and He is you.
This is the divine paradox Krishna embodies: He supports your free will, your right to walk away. But He also assures you — you’re never alone.
Walking away from pain is human. Walking away from false identity is divine. Krishna’s entire teaching is not about staying in the battlefield for its own sake. It is about staying aligned with truth, even when truth is hard.
Arjuna was not told to fight because war is glorious. He was told to fight because it was his dharma to protect righteousness — not with hatred, but with love.
Sometimes, to walk away from toxic relationships or unsustainable lives is also dharma — when it serves the soul’s evolution. But that walking away must not be done in bitterness or despair, but in awareness and inner power.
To the one who stands on the edge, torn between staying and going, Krishna whispers:
“You are not your role, not your failure, not your pain. You are Me in disguise.
Even if you walk away, you walk into My arms.”
Krishna’s love is not for the perfect warrior, but the trembling one. Not for the preacher, but for the seeker. Not for the certain, but the broken.
He does not push you to stay.
He holds you, whether you walk or not.
And in that holding, you remember: You were never alone.
Na chaiva na bhaviṣyāmaḥ sarve vayam ataḥ param.”
— Bhagavad Gita 2.12
(“There was never a time when I did not exist, nor you, nor all these kings; nor in the future shall any of us cease to be.”)
There are moments in every life when silence feels more comforting than speech, when retreat feels nobler than resistance, and when walking away seems like the only way to preserve the last shred of sanity. Whether it's a job that drains your soul, a relationship that suffocates your identity, or a life path that no longer resonates with your essence — the desire to walk away is not a weakness. It is a cry from the innermost being for alignment, authenticity, and peace.
But how do we walk away without guilt? How do we distinguish between cowardice and wisdom? Between escaping and evolving? The Bhagavad Gita, a divine dialogue between the warrior Arjuna and Lord Krishna, is perhaps the most compassionate scripture for such moments of inner crisis. It doesn't preach endurance for its own sake, nor glorify walking away as a romantic rebellion. Instead, it offers nuanced clarity: not a command, but an invitation — to understand the real reason behind your desire to quit.
Let us walk into this sacred conversation to explore what Krishna truly says to the one who wants to walk away.
Arjuna Wanted to Walk Away Too
Gita Discourses
The entire Bhagavad Gita begins with a hero who wants to quit. Arjuna, a mighty warrior with unmatched skill and righteousness, is paralyzed not by fear of defeat but by the unbearable burden of dharma (righteous duty). Standing on the battlefield of Kurukshetra, facing friends, teachers, and family members on the other side, he collapses.
“My limbs give way, my mouth is dry, my body trembles, my hair stands on end… I will not fight.” (Gita 1.28-30)
Arjuna wanted to walk away — not out of selfishness, but out of empathy. He saw no victory in killing those he loved. He questioned the very idea of duty when it came with blood. He saw his identity melting away in the face of impossible choices. And this is where Krishna steps in — not to scold him, but to reveal the deeper vision.
Krishna’s response is not immediate chastisement. He listens. He lets Arjuna express his despair. And only then does he begin his gentle but transformative teaching — beginning not with theology, but psychology.
“Your Right Is to Action, Never to Its Fruits” (Gita 2.47)
Action Pervades Reality
“Karmanye vadhikaraste, Ma phaleshu kadachana…”
At the heart of the desire to walk away lies a spiritual misconception — that we must stay only if we are guaranteed success, peace, or results. But Krishna turns this equation upside down. He says: Your job is to act, not to control outcomes. If your actions are aligned with dharma — even when painful — they are worthy. Walking away because results aren't showing is rooted in attachment, not clarity.
This teaching is liberating. It allows you to stay engaged in life without being entangled by it. It gives you the freedom to walk away from expectations, not effort. Krishna’s message here is not "stay and suffer" — it is “act, surrender, let go.”
“It Is Better to Fail in Your Own Dharma Than to Succeed in Another’s” (Gita 3.35)
Arjuna (Image Credit: Pexels)
“Shreyan swadharmo vigunah paradharmat svanushthitat…”
Sometimes we want to walk away because we are walking a borrowed path. We’ve adopted someone else’s dreams, someone else’s definitions of success, someone else’s lifestyle. It doesn’t fit anymore. We are strangers to ourselves, living lives that don’t nourish us.
Krishna acknowledges this existential discomfort. He says — even if your personal path is imperfect, it is your path. A flawed life lived in truth is greater than a polished lie. Walking away from paradharma (another’s dharma) is not only permissible, it is often necessary. But you must walk towards something — your authentic dharma — not merely away from pain.
“The Mind Is Restless, But It Can Be Trained” (Gita 6.35)
Path to Eternity
“Asamshayam Mahābāho Mano Durnigraham Chalam…”
One of the deepest reasons people walk away from life or purpose is mental exhaustion. The mind becomes a battlefield — scattered, depressed, anxious. Krishna admits this reality with profound compassion. He does not minimize the suffering. He says: Yes, the mind is turbulent. But it is not unconquerable.
The medicine he offers is twofold:
Abhyasa – consistent spiritual practice.Vairagya – detachment from fleeting desires and fears.This is not a call to repression, but to inner strengthening. You don’t have to walk away from life to find peace. You must walk within. From that center, the chaos outside loses its power to define you.
“Even the Greatest Sinners Can Cross the Ocean of Sin by the Boat of Knowledge” (Gita 4.36)
Knowledge Liberates
“Api ched asi pāpebhyah sarvebhyah pāpakrittamah,
Sarvam jñāna-plavenaiva vrijinam santarishyasi.”
Many people want to walk away because they feel unworthy. Their past haunts them. Mistakes, betrayals, addictions, failures — they feel irredeemable. Krishna, the master of hearts, speaks directly to this shame. He says: Even if you are the worst of sinners, knowledge can carry you across like a boat over a flood.
This is not just intellectual knowledge, but the wisdom of your divine nature. You are not the sum total of your wounds. You are the eternal Atman — untouched, radiant, ever-pure. Krishna doesn’t erase your past. He transcends it. And he invites you to do the same.
“I Am the Self, Seated in the Hearts of All Beings” (Gita 10.20)
The only Existential Soul
“Aham Atma Gudakesha Sarva-Bhutasaya Sthitah…”
One of the loneliest feelings in moments of despair is the illusion of isolation. You feel abandoned — by people, by God, by yourself. Krishna gently pierces this illusion. He says: I am not in heaven, far away. I am in your own heart. I am you, and you are Me.
You do not need to reach out. You only need to look in. Walking away from the world cannot separate you from Him, because He is the world — and He is you.
This is the divine paradox Krishna embodies: He supports your free will, your right to walk away. But He also assures you — you’re never alone.
The Real Walking Away: From Ego, Not Dharma
Arjuna was not told to fight because war is glorious. He was told to fight because it was his dharma to protect righteousness — not with hatred, but with love.
Sometimes, to walk away from toxic relationships or unsustainable lives is also dharma — when it serves the soul’s evolution. But that walking away must not be done in bitterness or despair, but in awareness and inner power.
Krishna’s Love Is for the One Who Doubts
“You are not your role, not your failure, not your pain. You are Me in disguise.
Even if you walk away, you walk into My arms.”
Krishna’s love is not for the perfect warrior, but the trembling one. Not for the preacher, but for the seeker. Not for the certain, but the broken.
He does not push you to stay.
He holds you, whether you walk or not.
And in that holding, you remember: You were never alone.