Arjuna’s distress drives him to request his dear friend (and cousin) Krishna to set aside the equality of status in their friendship and to assume the role of teacher, as his superior (2.7). Krishna accepts this role and, initially, chides Arjuna for sounding very learned but being ignorant of higher truth. He then proceeds to instruct him in the basic principle of spiritual analysis, namely, to distinguish between the temporal physical and mental body on the one side, and the atemporal, nonphysical and supermental self on the other side. To make this distinction, Krishna provides analogies from common experience, such as this one (2.22): as one takes off old and worn clothes and dresses in new clothes, similarly, the atemporal self abandons the temporal body when it no longer functions, accepting a new temporal body (which is generally born into another family from that of the previous body).

Based on this understanding, Krishna argues that Arjuna need not be in anxiety about the imminent death of the warriors he now faces. Rather, even if they are killed, they—the selves in those warrior bodies—will in fact not die, for the self—all living selves—are indestructible. And since a warrior in a righteous battle is awarded residence in heavenly realms if his body is killed, there is nothing to worry about. On the other hand (and this is a curious but significant “twist” in Krishna’s reasoning), even if not persuaded on the basis of the self’s atemporality, Arjuna should nonetheless fight in this battle out of concern for his own reputation as a warrior. If he withdraws from the battlefield, he will be scorned by other warriors, and this would be a fate worse than death (2.34-36)!

Krishna does not press this point about reputation any further in the Gītā; rather, he proceeds immediately to provide a summary of yoga practice by which one may realize through immediate experience the truth of the self as distinct from the body. Krishna names this yoga practice “buddhi-yoga”—the yoga of discernment (2.39). A word that Krishna uses several times in this section of Chapter 2—buddhi—suggests awakening and alertness. By developing alertness in discriminating between what is temporary (especially one’s own body and the particulars of mental activity) and what is not temporary (the essential principle of life, the self, jīva or ātman), the first important accomplishment of yoga practice is attained. This attainment is freedom from the dictations and demands of the mind, by which one is constantly disturbed amidst the fluctuations of life: feelings of happiness and distress, and the experience of being honored or dishonored, are typical of such disturbing fluctuations.

Together with such freedom of mind comes freedom from the dictations of the senses. Here, Krishna describes an accomplished yogī—one who practices yoga—as one who is “standing in wisdom” (sthita-prajña). Again, a striking analogy is given to help understand the state of consciousness of such a person (2.70): “Just as water constantly pours (from rivers) into the undisturbed ocean, similarly all kinds of desires may enter into a person (who is adept in yoga). The yogī attains peace; not one who pursues desires.” In other words, the accomplished practitioner does not identify himself or herself with the constant streams of desires, knowing that desires are nothing but longings of the senses to enjoy temporary pleasures through sense objects, or longings of the mind to enjoy temporary pleasures through thoughts pleasing to the mind.

Chapter 2 sets forth the most essential principles of understanding upon which yoga as a whole is based. The key principle of yoga in this chapter is “analysis” (sāṅkhya) by which one learns to deeply question the received wisdom of the world. The received, conventional “wisdom” is that one must identify with one’s physical body and mind to achieve a successful, happy life. In fact, says Krishna, the exact opposite is true. And buddhi-yoga serves to foster direct experience of the truth of one’s nontemporal identity by enabling one to rise above the temporary, ever-distracting dualities of this world.