6.2 - Bhagavad Gita - Chapter 6, Verse 2

In this verse, Lord Krishna brings a profound clarity to the relationship between what is commonly understood as “renunciation” and the concept of “yoga.” He declares to Arjuna that true renunciation, as praised in spiritual traditions, is in essence the very same as yoga—union with the Supreme. What people often see as two distinct practices are, at their core, inseparable. The person who truly renounces is not merely someone who renounces physical action or engagement, but someone who has also internally renounced the desires that drive those actions.

To get to the heart of Krishna’s teaching, imagine the difference between someone who simply avoids certain activities and another who has no longing for them in the first place. The first may physically distance themselves from tempting situations, but their mind could still be restless, secretly craving the pleasures they have denied. On the other hand, the true renunciant or yogi has reached a state where even inwardly, there is no desire left for those things. For Krishna, it is not enough to simply control one’s senses or abstain from indulgence on the outside. The real test lies within—are you free from the urge for sensory enjoyment?

Krishna’s words draw a direct line between sannyāsa (renunciation) and the path of yoga (discipline). Both are paths that demand an internal transformation rather than just external restraint. It is the renunciation of the “desire for sense gratification”—the subtle, persistent drive to enjoy the fruits of one’s actions—that is the unifying element. Without letting go of this inner longing, Krishna says, no one can truly be a yogi. This is a deep, psychological renunciation, not just a physical one.

The verse also reminds us that yoga, properly understood, is not a technique confined to postures, breathwork, or rituals. It is a way of living and being that is characterized by freedom from the endless cycle of wanting, achieving, and then wanting more. Krishna’s message is especially relevant for anyone who seeks to understand whether their spiritual practices are truly leading them towards inner peace or are just another layer of habit and identity. Real yoga, he indicates, is an inward journey where the waves of desire finally settle and leave the mind clear and still.

This subtle shift is at the heart of all genuine spiritual progress. Many may find themselves able to give up certain pleasures or comforts, but the subtler challenge is to uproot the very craving for them in the heart. It’s like weeding a garden—removing the visible parts is only half the work; if the roots are left untouched, the weeds will quickly return. In spiritual language, these roots are the desires for transient pleasures, recognition, or achievements that keep the mind perpetually agitated and moving outward.

Krishna is not dismissing the need for action or suggesting that one must become inactive. Instead, he is redefining the very nature of renunciation—it is about the attitude with which one acts, not the mere absence of action. Someone may be engaged in the world, performing their duties with diligence and care, but if they have let go of the hunger for personal reward and enjoyment, they are, in Krishna’s eyes, a true yogi. This is a subtle but revolutionary idea: true renunciation is compatible with a life of action, provided the motivation is purified of selfish craving.

The linkage Krishna makes here extends and deepens his earlier teachings in the Gita. In Chapter Five, he discussed how both the path of selfless action (karma yoga) and the path of knowledge (jñāna yoga) ultimately lead to the same destination—freedom from attachment and union with the Divine. Here, in Chapter Six, he establishes that sannyāsa and yoga are similarly aligned, with the common thread being the dissolution of material desires. Without this, even the most disciplined outward practices become hollow.

Ultimately, Krishna’s verse challenges us to inquire into the real motives that animate our actions. Is our pursuit of spiritual practice or discipline just another means to satisfy hidden desires, or have we begun the deeper work of letting go of those desires altogether? The true yogi, according to this teaching, is not one who escapes from life, but one who lives fully present, yet completely unattached to the fleeting pleasures and pains of the world. To walk this path is to experience a freedom that comes not from withdrawal, but from a profound inner release—a freedom that allows one to act in the world with composure, clarity, and peace.