Arjuna was very much convinced about his decision to put down his bow and arrow, something almost unheard of for a warrior-leader of his stature. And yet he felt an intense need to validate his feelings with Krishna anyway. This is quite natural.
Crisis often evokes the urge to attract sympathizers, because the very nature of a crisis is to alienate us from our comfort zones. Adversity draws us out of the wilderness of familiar conditioning that perpetuates a superficial existence. And in many ways, it's a deeply isolating experience.
Lake Shore Drive
Exiting college, I was psyched to explore the horizons of the business world and build my fortune. I landed a coveted job as an analyst with a top-notch management consulting firm in Chicago. Driving down Lake Shore Drive the first weekend of my descent into Chitown, I was the master of my destiny. So I thought.
Two years and six months later, I was laid off. The first post-9/11 recession hit the firm hard. But the downsizing was just the beginning of a paradigm-shattering experience. I was also struggling to find myself. I realized I wasn't cut out to be a cutthroat consultant, and I felt quite out of my league.
My foundation shook. All of my emotional securities became my insecurities. Who was I? What was I meant to do? What was my path to fulfillment?
These were no longer metaphysical ruminations. They were as real as the morning sun, and they burned through my superficial conceptions of who I was.
Needing answers, needing kinship, I approached a friend who was also my spiritual mentor at the time. With the combination of good advice, a temporary unplugging from the corporate rat race, and deep introspection into my own areas for improvement, I was guided, divinely, I would say, toward a more promising trajectory. It took a little time, but I worked my way back into a better-suited career path and launched what became my spiritual journey.
The Question Beneath the Question
However, I could just as easily have been led astray if I hadn't kept my own wits about me. The need for validation can also intensify our insecurities. Constantly seeking the approval of others can minimize our own sense of self-worth if we let ourselves be defined by their opinions.
While it's an important life skill to compromise and seek middle ground, if we constantly try to please the whims of others, the psychological impact of that habit permeates deep into our psyche, restraining us from a real journey of fulfillment.
This begs the question: when is it healthy to seek out validation? Is this really a question of timing? The more I sit with it, the more I think the pressing concern isn't really "when." It's "who."
It's a question of trust. Whom do we trust to shine a light on our true path? And what do we do with that light once it's offered? That's the real work, long after the crisis that sent us looking for it has passed.
Observe
Think of the last two or three times you went to someone for consolation during a moment of personal distress. Write the scenarios out.
Introspect
Reflect on the conscious, obvious reasons you went to them for support. Now dig deeper. Was it genuinely because you didn't know what to do next, or how to handle your emotions? Or was it because you needed someone to validate the decision you'd already made, or the way you already felt?
Do Akarma
The next time you reactively reach for emotional support, pause first. Take a full day to sit with your raw feelings and try to step outside them. Give yourself good advice, the kind you'd give a close friend. Write it down so you remember it, then act on it. Take note of how that entire process feels, compared to reaching outward first.