The Gita’s Advice for Anyone Afraid of Losing What They Love
Riya Kumari | Nov 19, 2025, 05:30 IST
Krishna radha
( Image credit : AI )
There is a strange pull the heart feels toward things it cannot keep. A person, a moment, a season of life, you sense its fragility the very day it begins. You know it will not last forever, yet something in you still moves toward it, hoping to hold it, even if briefly. Most people think this desire is foolish. The Gita doesn’t.
There are moments when the heart moves in a direction the mind is terrified of. Moments when you can already see the ending long before the beginning has fully unfolded. You know it won’t last. You know one day it will hurt. And still, you want it. Life’s most intense desires often come wrapped in the awareness of their eventual loss. And this is precisely where the Gita speaks with a kind of honesty that cuts deeper than comfort.
We want life to follow a straight line: If I choose this… If I love this… If I commit to this… let it stay exactly the same. But life refuses that bargain. People evolve. Feelings shift. You change, even when you don’t notice it in real time. Expecting permanence from a world that is constantly reshaping itself is like trying to hold water in your palm, tighten the grip, and you lose more. The Gita doesn’t shame this desire for certainty. It simply says: don’t fight the truth of movement.
Everything that lives, changes. Everything that changes, teaches. Everything that teaches, stays, just not in the form you wanted.
Arjuna stood on the battlefield terrified of the future, of what he might lose, of where his choices would take him. Krishna didn’t tell him, “Don’t feel scared.” He told him, “Act from the present. Don’t live in a future you’ve imagined.” When the mind jumps ahead, it creates fear. When the mind rewinds the past, it creates regret. When the mind stands in the present, it creates clarity.
Most people don’t suffer because something ended. They suffer because they lived the entire journey imagining the end. The Gita’s wisdom is simple: Be here. Not in the ending you fear. Not in the story your mind is writing. Here.
We chase love as if it exists outside us, inside people, moments, promises, outcomes. But the Gita doesn’t define love as an external reward. It defines it as alignment. When your actions, intentions, and presence come from your highest self, that is love. Love is not what stays. Love is how you behave while it does.
When you give your best without obsessing over how long it will last, the relationship may or may not stay, but the part of you that loved well becomes permanent. Even if something ends, the person you became through loving remains.
Life is harsh. Life is tender. And you need both
There are days when you claim you don’t want love anymore. You call yourself practical. Mature. Unreachable. But you’re not. You’re human. Your heart still responds to beauty. It still aches for connection. It still softens when someone understands you without explanation. Life is cruel enough to break you, and kind enough to rebuild you. It teaches through contrast, loss sharpens desire, uncertainty deepens presence, endings make beginnings precious. The Gita doesn’t tell you to avoid love. It tells you not to make love your anchor. Let love be your expression, not your possession. So what do you do when you know something won’t last?
You live it fully. You hold it lightly. You love without bargaining for forever. You show up with your whole heart, not because it will last, but because you will. The Gita’s truth is not to detach from love, but to detach from fear. Because love, even if temporary, expands you. Fear, even if justified, shrinks you. And between expansion and shrinking, the Gita always chooses expansion.
Life is uncertain because everything in it is alive
Everything that lives, changes. Everything that changes, teaches. Everything that teaches, stays, just not in the form you wanted.
The only place you actually have power is the present
Most people don’t suffer because something ended. They suffer because they lived the entire journey imagining the end. The Gita’s wisdom is simple: Be here. Not in the ending you fear. Not in the story your mind is writing. Here.
Love is not something you receive, it is the way you show up
When you give your best without obsessing over how long it will last, the relationship may or may not stay, but the part of you that loved well becomes permanent. Even if something ends, the person you became through loving remains.
Life is harsh. Life is tender. And you need both
You live it fully. You hold it lightly. You love without bargaining for forever. You show up with your whole heart, not because it will last, but because you will. The Gita’s truth is not to detach from love, but to detach from fear. Because love, even if temporary, expands you. Fear, even if justified, shrinks you. And between expansion and shrinking, the Gita always chooses expansion.