On dharmic action, boundary enforcement, and why the Mahabharata teaches us something far more subtle than “stand up to your elders”
In the quiet desperation of modern family conflict, we reach for ancient frameworks. The Mahabharata—that vast epic of cosmic war—seems to offer validation: See? Even Krishna exhausted all peaceful means before resorting to force. Even Arjuna had to fight his own teachers. Sometimes you must escalate. Sometimes you must “correct” even those you’re supposed to respect.
But this reading, seductive as it is, misses something crucial. Krishna wasn’t trying to make Duryodhana “understand his mistakes.” Arjuna wasn’t “correcting” Bhishma in public. The war at Kurukshetra teaches us something far more subtle and far more useful about when strong action becomes necessary.
The difference between what we think the Mahabharata teaches and what it actually teaches is the difference between ego’s war and dharma’s necessity.
What Krishna Was Actually Doing
Let’s trace Krishna’s escalation carefully:
First, a private conversation with Duryodhana, offering the Pandavas their rightful share. Duryodhana refuses.
Second, formal negotiation as a messenger before the assembled court, reducing the demand to just five villages—one for each brother. Duryodhana declares he won’t give them land enough to drive a needle into.
Third, Krishna reveals his cosmic form (Vishwarupa) in the Kaurava court, showing the divine consequences of this path. Still Duryodhana remains unmoved.
Finally, war becomes inevitable.
Here’s what we typically miss: Krishna knew from the beginning that war was inevitable. His divine consciousness could see that Duryodhana’s alignment with adharma (unrighteousness) was so complete that no amount of reasoning would change it.
So why the escalating attempts? Why the private diplomacy, the public negotiation, the divine revelation?
Not because Krishna believed they would work.
Because cosmic order requires that all peaceful alternatives be exhausted before necessity unfolds.
The Bhagavad Gita itself declares: “Whenever and wherever there is a decline in righteousness (dharma), and a predominant rise of unrighteousness (adharma)—at that time I descend Myself” (4.7).
The key word: whenever. Not “to teach lessons.” Not “to correct errors.” But to restore balance when imbalance has become structurally entrenched and all alternatives have been offered and refused.
Arjuna Wasn’t Correcting Anyone
Now consider Arjuna’s position. He must fight against Bhishma—his grandfather and teacher. Against Drona—his martial arts guru. Against cousins, uncles, friends.
The conventional reading: “Sometimes you must stand up even to your elders when they’re wrong. Even fight them publicly if necessary.”
But this completely misunderstands Arjuna’s consciousness in that moment.
Arjuna doesn’t want to fight. He lays down his bow, overcome with grief. Krishna doesn’t tell him: “They’re wrong, you’re right, go correct them!”
Krishna shows him that refusing to fight in this specific situation—after all peaceful means exhausted, when cosmic order requires restoration, when his specific dharma as a warrior demands action—would itself be adharma.
Arjuna picks up his bow not with righteous anger at his teachers’ errors, but with grief at necessity. He fights not to make them understand, but because consciousness must fulfill its role in restoring balance.
The motivation is everything.
Two Kinds of Escalation
This gives us a framework for understanding when strong action in relationships becomes necessary—and when it’s just ego serving itself.
Ego’s Escalation Pattern:
Goal: Make the other person see they’re wrong Motivation: They need to understand, be fixed, become better
Pattern: Private lecture → public correction → punishment/withdrawal until they learn Driving force: “I know better, they should change”
Emotional quality: Righteousness, vindication, satisfaction when they “get it” Attachment: To their understanding, their transformation, their admission of error
Dharma’s Escalation Pattern:
Goal: Protect what must be protected (dignity, safety, truth) Motivation: Harm is occurring and must be stopped Pattern: Private clarity → witnessed boundary → structural protection if necessary Driving force: “This harm cannot continue, whether they understand or not”
Emotional quality: Grief at necessity, no satisfaction in conflict Attachment: None—would take same action even knowing they’ll never change
The difference is everything.
The Four Tests of Dharmic Action
How do you know if your escalating response to repeated harmful behavior is dharmic or egoic? Ask yourself:
1. The Understanding Test
Would you take this action even if you knew the other person would never understand or change?
- If no: You’re using action as pedagogy, trying to teach lessons. This is ego as teacher.
- If yes: You’re responding to necessity. This is dharma as protector.
2. The Grief Test
Are you grieving the necessity of this action?
- If no (feeling righteous, vindicated, “finally showing them”): Ego-driven
- If yes (wishing it weren’t necessary, taking no pleasure in conflict): Dharma-driven
3. The Love Test
Can you take this action with love for the person intact?
- If no (anger, contempt, desire for them to suffer): Ego defending itself
- If yes (clear boundaries despite love, or even because of it): Dharma protecting what matters
4. The Attachment Test
Are you attached to them realizing their mistake?
- If yes: You’re using boundaries as manipulation—”I’ll withdraw until you see you’re wrong”
- If no: You’re setting boundaries because they’re necessary, regardless of outcome
What Exhausting Peaceful Alternatives Actually Means
Before Kurukshetra, Krishna tried:
- Private diplomatic approach
- Public negotiation with witnesses
- Reduced demands (five villages instead of kingdom)
- Divine revelation showing cosmic consequences
Translate this to relationship conflicts:
Private clarity: “When you speak/act this way, here’s the impact it has. I need it to stop.”
Witnessed conversation: Same conversation with a third party present (another family member, mediator, therapist)—not to shame, but to ensure clarity and accountability.
Reduced request: Not “completely change your personality and worldview,” but “stop this specific harmful behavior.”
Clear consequences: “If this continues despite these conversations, here’s what will need to change structurally (distance, reduced contact, separate living arrangements).”
The key: These aren’t pedagogical escalations designed to force learning. They’re dharmic offerings of every possible exit before structural change becomes necessary.
When Structural Change Becomes Necessary
Sometimes, despite all attempts, harmful patterns continue. The consciousness operating through the other person is so aligned with the harmful pattern that no amount of conversation will shift it.
This is when structural change—creating distance, limiting contact, sometimes even ending relationship—becomes not punishment, but protection.
Not dharmic: “I’m cutting ties until they learn their lesson and become less harmful.”
- Using distance as punishment/teaching tool
- Ego trying to force consciousness to change
- Attached to outcome (their transformation)
Potentially dharmic: “I’m creating distance because the current dynamic causes genuine harm, all attempts at change have been exhausted, and protection is now required.”
- Using distance as boundary
- Recognition that change may never come
- No attachment to outcome (their understanding)
- Simple response to what situation requires
The Pandavas didn’t want war. They tried everything to avoid it. When war came, they fought with grief, not with satisfaction.
Your approach to necessary relationship endings should have the same quality.
The Public Correction Question
One more subtlety: Sometimes in-the-moment public boundary-setting becomes necessary.
Imagine someone is being genuinely disrespectful to another person in your presence—at a family gathering, in front of guests, in a professional setting.
Ego’s response: “You’re being disrespectful and inappropriate!” (public correction attempting to make them see their error)
Dharma’s response: “Please speak respectfully.” (simple boundary, stated calmly)
Or even: [To the person being harmed] “Let’s continue this conversation another time.” (protective action without lecture)
Notice: No explanation. No pedagogical correction. No attempt to make the harm-causer understand. Just clear boundary or protective action arising from necessity.
This is more like Arjuna on the battlefield—acting from necessity, not from desire to teach lessons.
What About Trivial Corrections?
Here’s where self-honesty becomes crucial. Not every correction impulse is dharmic protection.
Someone mispronounces a word. Gets a fact wrong about a company name. Tells a story with slightly inaccurate details.
The impulse to correct arises.
Ask: What’s being protected here?
- Their understanding? (Pedagogical ego)
- Truth itself? (Philosophical ego)
- Your status as one-who-knows? (Social ego)
- Anything actually important? (Usually not)
Most micro-corrections serve ego maintenance disguised as helpfulness. They assert existence through superior knowing. They measure others against our straight line while establishing ourselves as the ruler who does the measuring.
The Mahabharata doesn’t validate this. This is just consciousness playing its recursive games of hierarchy and one-upmanship.
Save your energy for actual boundaries that protect actual dignity.
The Final Teaching: Releasing the Narrative
The Mahabharata ends with an often-forgotten epilogue. The Pandavas, having won the war, having ruled justly, having restored dharma—they renounce everything. They walk toward the Himalayas, releasing even the kingdom they fought for.
One by one, they fall on the journey. Only Yudhishthira, the eldest, continues to the gates of heaven—accompanied by a dog that turns out to be Dharma itself.
The teaching: Even righteous action, even necessary protection, even dharmic war—eventually all narratives must be released.
If you must take strong action in relationships—setting firm boundaries, creating distance, even ending connection when harm is persistent and unalterable—be prepared to release the story that you were “right” to do so.
Do what dharma requires. Then release even the need to have been right about doing it.
The victory isn’t in making them understand.
The victory isn’t even in being justified by outcome.
The victory is in protecting what must be protected, then releasing attachment to having protected it.
Distinguishing the Wars
So when relationship conflict escalates, how do you know whether you’re preparing for Kurukshetra (dharmic necessity after all alternatives exhausted) or ego’s war (using spiritual framework to justify desire to force others to see their errors)?
Kurukshetra signals:
- You’ve genuinely exhausted peaceful alternatives
- Real harm is occurring (not just annoyance or ego-bruising)
- You would take action even knowing they’ll never change
- Grief accompanies necessity
- No satisfaction in conflict, no desire for them to suffer
- Action protects something essential (dignity, safety, truth)
- Love remains possible even as boundaries are set
Ego’s war signals:
- You’re looking for the “right moment” to teach them a lesson
- Gathering evidence of their wrongness to present later
- Imagining their realization of error with satisfaction
- Testing whether boundaries will make them change
- Feeling righteous rather than sad about escalation
- Attached to them “getting it”
- Using spiritual/philosophical frameworks to justify correction impulse
The difference isn’t always obvious. The ego is extraordinarily sophisticated at disguising itself as dharma, especially when spiritual concepts are available as camouflage.
The Intersection Truth
This teaching thrives at the intersection of:
- Psychology: Understanding ego’s correction patterns and projection
- Spirituality: Recognizing action arising from necessity vs. desire
- Ethics: Knowing when boundaries become protection vs. punishment
- Philosophy: The difference between pedagogical and protective action
- Mythology: What Kurukshetra actually teaches about conflict
The truth that emerges: Consciousness sometimes requires strong action to restore balance. But the motivation behind that action determines whether it serves dharma or merely ego in dharmic disguise.
Krishna went to war not to correct anyone, but because cosmic order required it and all alternatives had been offered.
Arjuna fought not to teach his elders lessons, but because refusing to act would itself have been adharma.
When you must set firm boundaries, create distance, or take strong action in relationships, let the quality be the same: grief at necessity, not satisfaction at correction. Protection of what matters, not pedagogy about what’s wrong. Clear action regardless of outcome, not manipulation hoping for change.
And when the action is complete—when the boundary is set, the distance created, the protection established—release even the narrative of having been right to do it.
This is the teaching hidden in every war that didn’t need to happen, and the few that did.
Sarva-dharmān parityajya mām ekaṁ śaraṇaṁ vraja — Abandon all varieties of dharma and simply surrender. Even the dharma of protection, eventually, dissolves into the recognition that there was never anyone to protect, nothing threatening, no war fought, no victory won. Just consciousness exploring itself through the play of conflict and resolution, harm and protection, war and peace.*
But until that recognition stabilizes, dharma still calls. And sometimes, dharma demands we fight—not to correct, but to protect. Not with attachment to outcome, but with grief at necessity.
This is the way of Kurukshetra. This is the teaching hidden in plain sight.
Reinvent The Self! 