Living through moments that look settled on the outside
Inspired by the Bhagavad Gita, Chapter 4 – Jnana-Karma-Sannyasa Yoga
Some of the heaviest moments are not when you hesitate or step back.
They are when you act fully, visibly, correctly, and still feel internally paused.
You show up.
You say what needs to be said.
You hold things together.
And afterwards, there is a quiet sense that while everything moved on the outside, something inside stayed behind.
It’s not confusion exactly. It’s more like an unfinished feeling.
hard to name, easy to ignore, but persistent once noticed.
Uncertainty doesn’t wait for answers
This feeling became familiar when our organisation announced a transformation that included layoffs, very recently.
The intent was communicated clearly ensuring transparency, respect, doing things the right way.
The execution was planned over the next few months.
In between came uncertainty. Questions without timelines. Anxiety that had nowhere to land.
Why now?
What changed?
How will decisions be made?
What if it’s me?
People weren’t just looking for answers. They were looking for steadiness.
Saying the right things while still finding your footing
As leaders, we were expected to provide that steadiness.
To acknowledge the external landscape, protect wellbeing, keep the work moving, and demonstrate confidence in the system.
Outwardly, I did what was expected.
I spoke about resilience.
About focusing on what we could control.
About trusting the process.
Inwardly, I was carrying many of the same questions.
Concern for my team.
Uncertainty about fairness.
A quiet fear about what might unfold – for them, for me, and for everyone around.
It wasn’t dishonesty. It was timing.
The words came before my own understanding had fully settled.
And that gap between what I was saying and what I was still processing created a weight I hadn’t anticipated.
Finding language for an unnamed state
What made this difficult wasn’t the situation alone.
It was the distance between action and inner clarity.
I could hear myself speaking with composure, while another part of me stayed unconvinced – still processing, still waiting.
Almost like watching myself perform a role I knew well, while something inside remained unresolved.
Much later, an old line from the Gita began to make sense to me.
“One who sees inaction in action, and action in inaction, is wise among humans.” Gita 4.18
It speaks of the ability to notice stillness hidden inside action, and real movement taking place within stillness.
Not as a flaw. Not as a failure.
But as a state, where action continues, responsibility is carried, while understanding is still catching up.
The text doesn’t ask us to stop acting. It simply invites us to notice where we are acting from.
What I’ve started paying attention to
Since then, I’ve become more attentive to this gap.
Moments when my words sound right but feel slightly distant.
When reassurance begins to feel like performance.
When I’m more focused on appearing calm than on being present.
I don’t rush to resolve it.
I don’t try to correct it immediately.
I just notice.
Sometimes that awareness itself brings alignment back. Sometimes it only tells me that I’m not there yet.
Both feel honest.
A question I now carry
If there is something this experience left me with, it is not an answer, but a shift in attention.
To notice when action has moved ahead of inner understanding, and to resist the urge to normalise that gap.
Not every gap needs to be closed immediately. But every gap deserves to be seen.
The question I return to now is quieter, and harder: Am I speaking from something I understand, or from something I’m still trying to make peace with?
I don’t always like the answer.
But noticing the difference feels like an honest place to stand.
Written by Vibhor Jain © 2025 | Originally published at mindspringlife.com