All of us have duties in life. Time, place and environment often change our duties, but we always find that somehow we are never without duties. We also feel that we ought to do our duties. If we do them well, we get satisfaction and usually also praise and some form of reward.
But there are also people who have found little joy in life, in spite of drudging along tirelessly with the duties that came their way. There must have been something wrong in their attitude toward duty or in the way they carried out their duties, for the Gita (3.20, 13.24, 18.46) says that the performance of duty can lead to perfection, peace and joy.
In order to do any work I must first know that it is my duty. What is my duty? The answer will depend on my life’s stage (āśrama) and my social role (varṇa) in the service of my community, for duties change with age and depend on one’s skills. How duties were determined in ancient times and how time has changed the old rules by shifting the focus from duties to rights was discussed here a few weeks ago.
When we dig into the details regarding duties, difficulties arise. One difficulty is this: what appears as our duty at one time in one set of circumstances may not appear as our duty at another time, in a different set of circumstances. Generally everyone agrees that it is one’s duty to kill enemy soldiers during a war. But in times of peace, can killing people in any form be justified as duty?
Another difficulty is the diverse sources of authority to which we turn in order to determine what our duty is. In the religious world, for instance, to Hindus what is enjoined in the Vedas is their duty, whereas to Christians what is enjoined in the Bible is their duty. Since everyone would refer to their own authority, an objective definition of duty which is acceptable to all is impossible. But this is something often forgotten by many, and they tend to judge the world by their own yardsticks. If we learn to see the duty of others through their own eyes, much of the friction and misunderstanding between individuals and communities would be reduced.
A subjective definition of duty is easier to attempt. From a spiritual standpoint (to which I am limiting myself), it is possible to define duty as any action that uplifts me spiritually and takes me nearer to God. In ethical terms, whatever makes me unselfish is my duty and whatever makes me selfish is not my duty. No person, to whatever religious tradition they may belong, could possibly have any objection to this definition. A Vedanta student may rephrase the definition in this way: “Every action that helps me manifest my divinity is my duty.”
What is the purpose of duty? Its purpose is the sublimation of the lower self, for only when the lower self gets out of the way does the higher self shine forth. Sri Ramakrishna called this process the renunciation of the unripe-I (Bengali, kācā āmi) and the manifestation of the ripe-I (pākā āmi). When carried out well, every duty is supposed to bring about this transformation. It may not be evident to us initially, but this is the primary purpose of duty. If it fails to do this, it can only mean that there is something wrong in the way we are doing the duty.
Two fundamental principles—freedom and detachment—must be kept in mind for duty to be spiritually beneficial.
Duty and Freedom
It is important to love the work that comes to us as our duty. This is not always easy. There are tasks which may be incompatible with our temperament or beyond our capacity, and these we hate to do. Oftentimes, we are forced by circumstances to do those very things and no work done under compulsion can give joy. Parents often do great harm by pressuring their children to choose specific careers without first ascertaining their interests and skills. Life becomes a drudgery to such children when they grow up and find themselves saddled with duties and responsibilities in which they have little interest. This fact, however, is being increasingly recognized, as is evident from the counseling and vocational guidance facilities that many schools, colleges and universities are now making available to young men and women.
Apart from the vocation we choose, there are many minor duties that come to us in our family and social life. It is too much to expect every small duty to be according to our liking. If we begin to reject every duty that does not appeal to us, life would become difficult, almost impossible. The saying, “If you do not get what you like, you must like what you get,” is not merely a wisecrack but a statement embodying a great psychological truth. If we have to do a thing, it is better to see it in a positive light and do it willingly. Thus we prevent the unnecessary loss of energy due to dissatisfaction and are able to do the work in a better way and derive joy out of it.
The more we do our duty because we want to do it—not because somebody is compelling us to do it—the more freedom we experience. A slave’s work gives no joy. The work we do must be out of freedom. The slave is bound. It is the master’s work that the slave does. The work must become ours, not someone else’s. This then is the first principle: To work like a master and not as a slave. Freedom is our real nature. Everything we do out of freedom gives us joy.
Duty and Detachment
The second principle in duty-related matters is closely related to the first: The duty must be performed in a detached manner. “Everything that you do under compulsion goes to build up attachment” (CW 1. 104), says Swami Vivekananda.
What compels us to do our duties? Some work for money, some to get the praise and adoration of their peers, some work to gain power, some to achieve fame, and some to secure a place in heaven. What is common to all is that some desire or other goads them to do their duties. A horse does not pull the carriage out of freedom. There is the coachman sitting behind with a whip. Desire is the whip that makes us run about frantically, and we give it the high-sounding name “duty.” To really enjoy the work we do, we must do it without being driven by our desires. In psychological language, it means dissociating the will from the hold of desires (vāsanā) that are continuously sprouting due to the subliminal impressions (saṁskāra) in the mind.
There are two ways to bring this about. The first way is for those who believe in a personal God and have a devotional temperament. Every work they do should be an act of worship, an offering at the divine altar. The work belongs to God and so do the results of the work. In this way, the devotees frees themselves from the desire for the fruits of their labors by offering them all at the feet of the Lord. Before retiring to bed, the devotee’s prayer may take the following form (Kulaśekhara, Mukundamālā, 38):
कायेन वाचा मनसेन्द्रियैर्वा बुद्ध्यात्मना वा प्रकृते: स्वभावात् ।
करोमि यद्यत् सकलं परस्मै नारायणायेति समर्पयामि ॥
Kāyena vācā manasendriyairvā buddhyātmanā vā prakṛteḥ svabhāvāt,
Karomi yad yat sakalaṁ parasmai nārāyaṇāyeti samarpayāmi.
“O Lord, whatever I have done (this day) through body, speech, mind, senses, intellect, egoism, or unconscious natural impulses—everything I dedicate as an offering unto you, the supreme, all-pervading Spirit.”
The devotee’s only desire is to serve and worship God through every work. When this desire for devotion becomes sufficiently strong, it overpowers and gradually eliminates all selfish desires. Every action then becomes sacred and an expression of freedom.
The second way to eliminate the hold of desires in work is for those who are not endowed with a devotional temperament. They have to rely entirely on their own will-power. With constant discernment (viveka) they have to dissociate their work from desires and learn the art of working for work’s sake. They have to learn to do good because it is good to do good, and not because of any other reason.
This can be done by trying to cultivate constant self-awareness. The more I remind myself that I am the Ātman, the pure, free and divine self, the more detached I become from my actions and their results. This is no doubt a difficult method, and without a strong, alert and discerning mind, it is not possible to work for work’s sake. But nothing is difficult for one who is prepared to pay the price that any endeavor may demand. Let us keep in mind that the methods of doing duties that are being discussed here are for spiritual seekers. Those without any spiritual aspiration will find these methods not only difficult but also pointless.
It may be helpful to offer every evening all the actions done that day, consciously or unconsciously, as an oblation into the inner fire of one’s spiritual self. A well-known mantra chanted at the end of a ceremonial worship conveys this idea beautifully:
इत:पूर्वं प्राण-बुद्धि-देह-धर्माधिकारतो जाग्रत्-स्वप्न-सुषुप्त्यवस्थासु मनसा-वाचा-कर्मणा हस्ताभ्यां पद्भ्यां उदरेण शिश्ना यत्कृतं यदुक्तं यत्स्मृतं तत्सर्वं ब्रह्मार्पणं भवतु स्वाहा ।
Itaḥpūrvaṁ prāṇa-buddhi-deha-dharmādhikārato jāgrat-svapna-suṣupti-avasthāsu manasā-vācā-karmaṇā hastābhyāṁ padbhyāṁ udareṇa śiśnā yatkṛtaṁ yad-uktaṁ yat-smṛtaṁ tat sarvaṁ brahmārpaṇaṁ bhavatu svāhā.
“Being subject to the impulses of the vital energy (prāņa), the intellect (buddhi) and the body (deha), whatever indiscretions I have committed in the states of waking, dream and deep sleep, in thought, word and deed, by means of my different organs—may all these be offered to Brahman, the supreme reality.”
Done with sincerity and intensity, this prayer has a wonderfully purifying effect.
We have defined duty as any work that takes us Godward. Will mere carrying out of our duties not take us to God? Alas, no. If it could, God-realization would have been a lot easy. What we find instead is that we may carry out our duties efficiently and yet not derive any spiritual benefit whatsoever. If the mind is filled with worldly desires, efficient work may help in fulfilling those desires but it cannot help us spiritually.
Nor can carrying out the duties mechanically bring about any inner change. Why is it that many people practicing devotional disciplines like prayer, japa and meditation for years find that nothing changes for them? The reason is that these disciplines have become for them, consciously or unconsciously, a ritual to be performed either out of fear or out of necessity or for no reason in particular. These disciplines have become just another “duty” to be done, not because they want to do it or love to do it, but because they have to.
When our duties become either mechanical or world-oriented, they cease to be an aid to spiritual life. Duty then becomes, in the words of Swami Vivekananda,
“a disease with us; it drags us ever forward. It catches hold of us and makes our whole life miserable. It is the bane of human life. This duty, this idea of duty is the midday summer sun which scorches the innermost soul of mankind!” (CW 1. 103)
Strong words, these! Referring to those people who are trapped in the meshes of worldly desires, Swamiji continues:
“Look at those poor slaves to duty! Duty leaves then no time to say prayers, no time to bathe. Duty is ever on them. They go out and work. Duty is on them! They come home and think of the work for the next day. Duty is on them! It is living a slave’s life, at last dropping down in the street and dying in harness, like a horse. This is duty as it is understood.” (CW 1. 103)
It is clear that duty, thus understood, becomes a source of bondage instead of a liberating force. “The only true duty,” to quote Swamiji again, “is to be unattached and to work as free beings, to give up all work unto God.” It is for this reason that the two principles—freedom and detachment—are indispensable in carrying out our duties as spiritual seekers.
When we begin to do our duties with detachment and in a spirit of freedom, a great inner change starts taking place. There is no doubt a great struggle involved. Under the sway of ignorance characterized by sorrow (śoka), delusion (moha) and other defects, our lower nature rebels. Even when engaged in our own duties, our mind is motivated by hankering after rewards and our actions are accompanied by egoism. (See Gita 2. 10, and Śankara’s commentary.)
The struggle between our spiritual aspiration and the lower tendencies of the mind then begins. Much depends on the strength of the aspiration, śraddhā, purity, and the determination to reach the goal. Half-hearted attempts and compromises can end only in failure. Infinite patience and perseverance are a must for every spiritual seeker. And it is in the heart of such a struggling soul that the grace of God descends, and brings about an inner transformation.
What is the nature of this transformation? Work with the idea of duty begins to melt away, leaving behind work without any idea of duty. Such work is really no work at all, but a free offering of the self in the great worship of the Cosmic Being (virāṭ). The layers of ignorance covering the self are peeled off one after the other, leaving behind the shining, resplendent Ātman.
What duty can the Ātman have, which is by nature free, blest and eternal? Duty exists for one who is conscious of being the agent (kartā) of action. When the notion of being the agent is removed through self-realization, duty too automatically drops off. “One who is content in the self alone has no duty,” says the Gita (3.17). It is duty that leads us to a state where we can relinquish duty. Duty leads us on to the state of freedom but quietly withdraws herself when we reach there.
Sri Krishna says in the Gita (3.22), “I have no duty. There is nothing unattained, or to be attained, by me in the three worlds. Yet I continue to work.” An enlightened being too continues to work “for the good of the many, for the happiness of the many” (bahujana hitāya, bahujana sukhāya).