Duty

Do you spend more time thinking about the future or the past? Why?

“You have the right to perform your prescribed duty, but you are not entitled to the fruits of action.
Never consider yourself the cause of the results of your activities, and never be attached to not doing your duty.”
— Bhagavad Gita 2.47

I do not have the luxury of spending time worrying about the future, and I am consciously trying to loosen my grip on the past. Whenever an old memory rises especially those connected to other people,  I remind myself firmly: this is not my karma to carry. I should not step into another person’s destiny, no matter how familiar the story feels.

Recently, a memory surfaced about an ex-colleague who is now facing trouble with management. The mind tried to pull me back into analysis, judgment, and emotion. But I stopped myself. This belongs to them. Let them face what they must. My role is not to interfere, relive, or rescue. The past will fade if I refuse to feed it.

Instead of letting the mind wander, I anchor myself with something simple and physical. I write my goals on a small A5 paper. I know myself well ,I procrastinate, especially at night. So before sleep, I read that paper again and again until something inside me finally moves into action.

The goals are never grand.
Sometimes it is just:
throwing out the rubbish before leaving for work
taking dry clothes off the rack and folding them neatly into the cupboard
practicing my sadhanas regularly, even when the mind resists

Small acts, repeated with awareness, slowly build discipline. Over time, the sadhanas stop feeling like tasks and begin to live within me. That is the quiet transformation I am seeking.

Living in the moment is not romantic. It is painful. It strips away excuses. It removes the comfort of memory and the illusion of future guarantees. Yet this pain feels more honest than the regret of old age, looking back and wishing I had tried when I still could.

Not living in the past required acceptance. I had to admit: yes, it happened. Acceptance does not mean approval; it means I stop bleeding over it. As for the future, it has not been written. That gives me freedom. At any given moment, if I don’t like the picture I’m seeing, I can redraw it quietly, patiently and then let the old image fade without obsession.

There is a parable that reminds me of this truth.
A monk once asked his teacher, “Why do people suffer so much even after letting go?”
The teacher picked up a hot stone and held it tightly.
“It burns,” the monk said.
“Then drop it,” replied the teacher.
The monk asked, “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
The teacher smiled. “I did. Suffering continues only because we keep holding.”

The past is that stone. The future is another imagined stone. The present moment is the open palm.
If I had to answer the question do I spend more time thinking about the future or the past? the honest answer is neither, at least not willingly. The past teaches, then must be released. The future inspires, then must be trusted. What demands my full attention is the action in front of me now.
One folded shirt.
One cleared plate.
One sincere breath.
That is where karma ends and freedom begins.