How do we overcome guilt caused by our inability to practice spirituality seriously?
For each of us, discipline can sometimes feel like someone else is imposing rules on us, and we just have to follow them. Last year, I was in America, staying with a devotee family. Their son was a young adult—actually, a teenager who had just received his driving license. He was kindly driving me to various programs.
One day, we spent a lot of time talking about different topics. I have a deep interest in English literature, so we naturally got into that. During one of our conversations, he said something very striking: “I feel as if my parents don’t love me at all.”
I asked him, “Why do you feel that way? Don’t they care about you and take care of you?”
He replied, “Yes, they do—but I feel like they love a future version of me. And they’re just tolerating me until that version arrives.”
That was a very insightful point. Sometimes, parents can have high expectations, and while those expectations are meant to inspire growth, they can sometimes make a child feel unloved in the present.
But it’s not that parents don’t love their child as they are, right? And similarly, it’s not that Krishna only loves some future version of us—when we become pure devotees. It’s not that He’s merely tolerating us until then. Not at all. Krishna loves us as we are, right now. Of course, He also wants us to grow and become better, but His love is present even now.
If we visualize Krishna in the center, around Him are many concentric circles of love. At the core, there are the Gopis of Vrindavan, then the Vrindavan vasis, the Vaikuntha vasis, pure devotees in this world, and so on. Ultimately, every living being is within one of these circles. The journey of bhakti is about moving closer to Krishna—into deeper circles of love. But even in our current position, Krishna loves us.
Now, when it comes to discipline, we shouldn’t feel insecure just because we don’t meet certain external standards. Discipline is best understood not as a burden but as a negotiation—a negotiation between the present me and the potential me.
Let’s consider an analogy. Suppose we’re caught in a storm, and all supplies are cut off. We have food that could last for a week, but today, I feel very hungry and want to eat a lot. If I eat too much today, I may have nothing left for the future. But if I eat too little, I may not have the strength to survive until that future. So, we have to find a balanced way to care for both the present and the future.
If we care only for the present, we may stagnate or even degrade. “Let me just enjoy now—sleep in, relax, have fun.” But that might leave us with no future worth enjoying. No degree, no career, no foundation.
On the other hand, if we care only for the future, we may suffocate. That’s what this boy was feeling—his parents cared only for the person he should become, and not for who he was. That kind of pressure can lead to resentment and rebellion.
So, each person has to find their own way of negotiating between their present and potential selves. This balance looks different for everyone. Even parents with two children can’t apply the same disciplinary rules to both—each child is unique. Likewise, each of us must find what works for our spiritual growth.
For example, I may choose to fast one day. But if that leads me to fall sick and go to the hospital the next day, that’s not sustainable. Or I may decide to wake up early, but if I’m groggy and unproductive the whole day, it defeats the purpose. So maybe I need to sleep earlier, or restructure my schedule. If that’s not currently possible, I should ask: What is reasonable for me right now?
That’s why I find it helpful to look at standards in an analog rather than digital way. In digital terms, it’s binary: if you do this, you’re a good devotee; if not, you’re a failure. But in analog terms, it’s a spectrum.
On that spectrum, I can define two key points:
- What is desirable for me (what I aspire to)
- What is non-negotiable (what I will do no matter what)
Maybe I aim to read the Bhagavad Gita for one hour daily. On some days, that’s just not possible. So, maybe I read just one page—that takes five minutes. Or I might say, “If not daily, I’ll read for two to three hours over the week.”
When we see our spiritual life as a spectrum, it becomes more sustainable. We honor our present capacity, while steadily moving toward our potential. And that is a much healthier way to maintain long-term discipline and devotion.