Business to the Buddha

Month: June 2025

  • “When you get to the end of your rope…

    “When you get to the end of your rope, tie a knot and hang on”. This was one of my MBA batchmate Rachita’s status message. I am talking about 2010-11. I asked her, what is the meaning? Why have you put it?

    She explained it to me, the context was our tiring coursework and demanding content. I kept it in my blog drafts and I loved the concept, finally returned and writing this after 14 years!

    During MBA, at times it was difficult to even comprehend and we needed extra-classes. Later in the course, we used to discuss that MBA is all about commonsense. We laughed at ourselves and for few things we discussed how easy was the concept and we were confused!

    Many times, when we do not comprehend things in life, we find ourselves completely lost, but when the aha! moment happens the concept becomes so easy.

    Let me explain it with a story of A Potter.

    The Potter from Banaras

    Long ago, in the ancient city of Kasi, lived a humble potter. He wasn’t learned, rich, or respected – just a quiet man who made clay pots by the Ganga. Business was erratic. Sometimes, the rains ruined his clay. Sometimes, he couldn’t afford to buy food after a day’s work.

    One monsoon season, his kiln collapsed in a storm. His year’s savings – gone. His cart broken. For a while, he tried everything: borrowing money, seeking help from traders, selling small items door-to-door. Nothing worked.

    One evening, standing alone by the riverbank, he muttered:

    “Why is this happening to me? I did nothing wrong.”

    There was no answer. Just rain, river, silence.

    He returned home. And the next morning, he did the only thing he could: he sat with his broken pots, gathered bits of salvageable clay, and began again. Slowly. Quietly. He built his business once again brick, by brick, by brick.

    He stopped chasing fast fixes. He rose each morning, meditated by the river, shaped one pot at a time – sometimes selling none, sometimes one. He became known not for his success, but for his stillness.

    Years passed. He never became famous. Why care for his becoming famous or rich, what he gained is the inner peace. But many came just to sit with him. He listened more than he spoke. His calm presence became a space of peace.

    A young boy once asked him, “Why didn’t you give up when your kiln broke?”

    The potter smiled and said, “Because sitting with the mud was all I had. And somehow, it was enough.”

    Business and Spiritual Parallels

    Economically, he faced collapse: no income, no capital, no safety net.

    Managerially, he shifted from problem-solving to process-living – focused on what he could still control: rhythm, presence, patience.

    Spiritually, he became what the Gita calls a Sthitapragna – a still-minded person, unmoved by success or failure.

    So always remember – “When you get to the end of your rope, tie a knot and hang on”.

    Picture source: Freepik.com AI generated image

  • Finding Balance: Between Focus and Flow

    The past few months have been intensely demanding. Even when I wanted to write or reflect, I simply didn’t have the time. Ironically, the only quiet moments came while taking a bath—and during those moments, I often wished for a wireless connection to my brain, just to download my thoughts directly.

    This constant “busy-ness” wasn’t just professional; it touched every part of my life – personal, familial, and work-related. Of the three, my professional commitments were the most overwhelming, often pushing me to the edge and sidelining everything else.

    I found myself caught in a strange conundrum: needing to focus deeply on one task while simultaneously juggling dozens of minor issues. It felt like trying to stretch myself across too many roles, while still hoping to give each one my full energy. It was exhausting – and, honestly, it felt impossible.

    In moments of reflection, I kept thinking of one person: my eldest sister. A retired defense officer, she managed a high-pressure career that took her across almost every state in India, yet she remained deeply rooted in spirituality. No wonder she was an academic and extra-curricular superstar. It was she who introduced me to the Art of Living. Throughout her career, she displayed a rare ability: to fully engage with the task at hand, while somehow managing multiple responsibilities with grace and presence.

    Last week, during our weekly Art of Living follow-up session, something profound happened. Our teacher concluded the session by reading a knowledge sheet from Guruji. One line from it struck a deep chord in me:
    “The balance between the focused mind and expanded consciousness brings perfection.”

    That single sentence felt like an answer to what I’d been grappling with for months. I’ve been struggling to maintain focus – constantly pulled from one meeting or deliverable to the next. Each time I start concentrating, I get interrupted. And when I finally return to the task, it feels just out of reach. Then I jump to the next priority. It’s a frustrating, never-ending loop.

    Thinking back, I remembered how my sister once pushed me – literally from Kolkata – to enroll in the Art of Living course. She was persistent, calling me multiple times to register. Yet, even with her packed days, she handled her responsibilities with calm and focus. She meditated regularly and gave herself space to unwind.

    It’s like threading a needle – you focus intensely, get the thread through, and then move on. You don’t hold on to the needle, praising yourself endlessly for a job well done. You complete the task, then flow into the next.

    That’s the kind of balance our work and life demand: focus when needed, detachment when the task is done.

    Of course, this is easier said than done. I’ve only experienced this state of balance when I’ve been truly present. But in a world of competing priorities and endless to-do lists, staying present isn’t easy. Each demand pulls at us, scattering our attention. Still, I know this balance – this dance between focus and flow – is possible. I’ve seen it in others. I’ve felt it briefly myself.

    I hope to return to it with more ease. And maybe, this time, I’ll stay there a little longer.