Dharma

Duty is not a word to fill me with joy and sunshine. Like work, it conjures up doing what’s obligatory rather than fun. Granted, I dislike some duties and enjoy others; the same holds for work. But as a guiding life principle, duty—or dharma—attracts me far less than love and compassion, or even curiosity.

I’ve been watching a lecture series on mythologies, including the Bhagavad Gita. In it, Krishna teaches a prince about dharma, the imperative to do one’s duty according to one’s place in society, without investment in the results. Our related “let it go” and “accept the things I cannot change” remind me how little my strivings can achieve. Dharma goes one step further: Do the right thing without striving toward any goal. Just do it.

My vote won’t swing the upcoming election, but voting is my dharma as a citizen. When my close friend pleads for advice I’m sure she won’t follow, my dharma as a friend is to treat her with love and respect. Instead of debating whether I’m bound by a promise to one now dead who won’t know, to stay bound is my dharma as part of a society that honors promises.

Of course, results do matter. I wouldn’t call doing laundry or dishes part of my dharma if they never come clean. And it will matter how the election comes out, and whether my friend finds comfort in her troubles. Stress hormones of caring can energize and motivate. But tight shoulders and knots in the stomach can also paralyze. I’m little use to anyone when I’m paralyzed by anticipating ends beyond my control. I wouldn’t choose dharma as a guiding life principle, but at the moment it’s a useful tool to have in my toolbox.

Image: Krishna and Arjun on the chariot, Mahabharata, 18th-19th century, India.