Gita 2.15

Sadhak: "Krishna says this person is 'fit for immortality.' Does that mean they become immortal after death, or is something happening now?"

Guru: "Both, but the emphasis is on now. Immortality (amṛtatva) is not a future event but a present recognition. The Self is already immortal—it was never born and never dies. The person who remains sama (equal) in pleasure and pain is recognizing this, right now, in their own experience. They are not acquiring immortality but uncovering it. After the body's death, this recognition may mature into different states of existence, but the key shift happens in life. A person established in equanimity is already tasting immortality—not as a concept but as their lived identity."

Sadhak: "But complete equanimity seems superhuman. I can sometimes be calm in difficulty, but eventually I get disturbed. Am I failing?"

Guru: "This is a process, not an all-or-nothing achievement. The word 'kalpate' (becomes fit) suggests gradual qualification, like ripening fruit. Each moment of equanimity is valuable. Each time you return to balance after being disturbed, you are strengthening the connection to the unchanging Self. The goal is not suppressing all disturbance but not being defined by it. You may feel the pull of pleasure, the push of pain—and then remember what you are. That remembering is the practice. Over time, the disturbances become less compelling, the remembering becomes more automatic, until eventually you are established—not through effort but through recognition."

Sadhak: "Krishna says 'the same in pleasure and pain.' But isn't pleasure good and pain bad? Shouldn't we prefer one to the other?"

Guru: "From the body-mind's perspective, yes—it naturally prefers pleasure. But from the Self's perspective, both are just experiences arising in awareness. The Self is neither enhanced by pleasure nor diminished by pain. 'Sama' (same) doesn't mean you can't tell the difference—of course the sage knows pleasure from pain. It means neither has power over your fundamental sense of being. You can enjoy pleasure without craving more; you can endure pain without fearing it will destroy you. This 'sameness' is not dullness but freedom—the freedom to respond to life rather than react to it."

Sadhak: "What about appropriate responses? If I'm 'the same' in response to everything, won't I fail to address problems that need addressing?"

Guru: "Sama refers to your inner state, not your outer response. Inwardly, you remain centered. Outwardly, you respond appropriately to circumstances. In fact, appropriate response becomes more likely when you are not destabilized. A doctor who remains calm during an emergency makes better decisions than one who panics. A warrior who remains centered in battle fights more effectively than one overwhelmed by fear or rage. Equanimity is not passivity—it is the stable ground from which effective action springs. You can be fierce in battle while being peaceful in your depths; this is not contradiction but mastery."

Sadhak: "The verse says 'these' do not disturb him—referring to the sensory contacts from the previous verse. But what about mental disturbances—worries, fears, regrets—that are not sensory?"

Guru: "The teaching extends to mental experiences as well. Worry about the future, regret about the past—these too are 'contacts' with mental objects (thoughts, memories, projections). They too are impermanent, coming and going. The dhīra observes the worry arising and passing without being destabilized by its content. The same equanimity that applies to cold and heat applies to anxiety and excitement, to memory and anticipation. All experiences, whether sensory or mental, are witnessed by the unchanging Self. Finding that Self, you are disturbed by nothing—not because experiences stop but because your identification has shifted."

Sadhak: "Why does Krishna call Arjuna 'puruṣarṣabha'—best among men? Isn't that the very praise that might inflate ego?"

Guru: "Krishna is being precise. Arjuna is indeed exceptional among men—his skill, courage, and birth are remarkable. But this excellence, Krishna implies, is incomplete. The true puruṣa—the spiritual person—is one established in the eternal, not just skilled in the temporal. By calling Arjuna puruṣarṣabha, Krishna honors what he has achieved while pointing toward what he has not yet achieved. It is both encouragement and challenge: you have the capacity to be the best in this deeper sense too. Your excellence in war can become excellence in equanimity. Rise to your full potential."

Sadhak: "Is this equanimity something we achieve through practice, or is it already our nature and we just need to recognize it?"

Guru: "Both perspectives have truth. From one angle, it is practice—we train ourselves to observe without reacting, to feel without being destabilized. From another angle, it is recognition—the Self is already unaffected by pleasure and pain, and we simply need to notice this. The practice helps us notice. It is like looking for your glasses while they are on your head: you need to search (practice), but what you find was already there (recognition). As understanding deepens, the sense of 'doing' practice dissolves into the recognition that awareness has always been present, untouched. Then equanimity is not achieved but revealed."

Sadhak: "What is the relationship between this equanimity and compassion? If I'm the same in response to my suffering and others' suffering, how can I be moved to help?"

Guru: "Equanimity and compassion are not opposites—they are partners. Equanimity provides the stable base; compassion provides the responsive action. Without equanimity, compassion becomes sentimentality—easily overwhelmed, burning out quickly, driven by the need to alleviate one's own discomfort at seeing others suffer. With equanimity, compassion becomes sustainable and wise—you can be fully present to suffering without collapsing under it, allowing more effective help. The dhīra feels others' pain fully but is not destroyed by it; this allows them to serve tirelessly. True equanimity increases compassion because it removes the self-protective barriers we erect against feeling. The sama-duḥkha-sukha person is the most compassionate person—fully available to others' experience without being controlled by it."