Why I Stopped Trying to Fix Myself and Started Belonging to Krishna

By Vraja Bihari Dasa

For many years, I practiced  Krishna consciousness with  a quiet but relentless assumption: I must overcome my anarthas. Lust, envy, pride, anger—each appeared to me as an enemy to be defeated. I walked the path of Krishna consciousness like a warrior on an endless battlefield. Each day brought new enemies to conquer—lust lurking in the shadows of my mind, envy poisoning my thoughts, pride hardening my heart, anger blazing through my words. These anarthas became my obsession, the demons I believed I had to slay before I could truly belong to Krishna.

Whenever one rose up, I fought with determination, and I ran to Krishna in prayer, pleading for protection, asking Him to help me conquer this particular obstacle. And Krishna, in His infinite mercy, helped me—again and again.

But the battles never ended.

Yet after each victory, like waves crashing endlessly upon the shore, another struggle emerged, and often wearing a new face but carrying the same inner weight. Over time, a deep fatigue set in. The cycle became exhausting—pray, struggle, overcome, repeat. I began to feel not only tired, but strangely disillusioned with my own approach. How many times must I ask Krishna to save me? How many battles must I fight? Krishna was helping me, yes, but the problems kept coming, relentless and unforgiving. And why was Krishna helping me every time, yet not stopping the problems from coming?

That question changed everything.

THE TURNING POINT

I realized that perhaps Krishna was not interested in helping me manage my imperfections, but in inviting me to belong to Him through them.

I realized I had been approaching Krishna like a beggar approaches a philanthropist—coming only when in need, asking only for solutions to specific problems, treating our relationship as a series of transactions. I had been trying to make myself acceptable, as if Krishna would only embrace me once I had scrubbed away every imperfection.

I had it all wrong.

So, I changed my prayer. I stopped asking Krishna to rescue me from specific anarthas and began begging Him for something far deeper: “Please accept me as I am. Arrange my life in such a way that I can surrender to You and please You, even in my brokenness.” I realized I am imperfect and wounded, and yet a desire arose in me to surrender to Him and please Him with whatever I have, however flawed it may be. That’s when I also realized I’d be then trusting Krishna to arrange my life in such a way that I can become what He wants me to be.

I decided I won’t wait any longer to offer Krishna a polished, perfected version of myself that may never exist. For the first time, I offered Krishna my imperfect self—my damaged mind, my confused intelligence, my unfinished heart. I stopped negotiating with Him, stopped promising future purity. These problems will keep coming as long as I live; they will change forms, intensify, recede, and return. I cannot remove them by my own strength. It took me many years to admit this. But now, I am done struggling to fix myself. I choose surrender over self-repair.

ANARTHAS ARE NOT ALWAYS OBSTACLES

I now understand that my “anarthas” are not obstacles to devotion; they are the very occasion for it.

Think about it—if you were already perfect, free from all anarthas, what would be the nature of your relationship with Krishna? It would be more like a transaction between equals, or even worse, you might feel you’ve “earned” His love through your purity.

But when you come to Krishna broken, struggling, imperfect—and He accepts you anyway—you experience something far more precious: unconditional love. Your anarthas become the canvas upon which Krishna’s causeless mercy is revealed.

The Vaishnava acaryas emphasize akincana-bhakti—the devotion of one who has nothing to offer. Paradoxically, this “nothing” is everything. When we have no spiritual credentials to present, no purity to bargain with, we can finally offer what Krishna actually wants: our heart, our dependence, our need for Him.

THE LIBERATION OF SURRENDER

In the external world, we understand perfectly that offerings must be attractive. The prasada must be delicious, clothes beautiful, the altar flowers fresh, the temple architecture impressive and magnificent. We know that to please others, we must present our best.

But somewhere along the way, we mistakenly carried this logic into our inner spiritual life. We began to imagine that Krishna, too, would accept us only when we became pure, perfect devotees—free from all anarthas, shining with spiritual accomplishment. We thought that just as a guest might reject a poorly cooked meal, Krishna would reject our impure, anartha-filled hearts. And so, we hide our real selves from Him, waiting for a day that may never come.

What a tragic misunderstanding!

Krishna is bhakta-vatsala—the One who loves His devotees like a mother cow loves her newborn calf. When a calf is born, covered in birth fluids and unable to stand, does the mother cow turn away in disgust? Does she demand the calf clean itself first? No. She immediately begins to lick her baby clean, tenderly removing every impurity with her own tongue, nurturing the calf with unconditional love.

This is how Krishna loves us. He removes our anarthas—not because we defeated them, but because we came to Him. Krishna doesn’t wait for us to become pure. He makes us pure through His love. From our side, we need only one thing: to belong to Him. Not to perfect ourselves for Him, but to give ourselves to Him.

This reflects the principle that pure devotion is not something we achieve through material qualification but something that descends through grace. Bhaktivinoda Öhakura sings, “I am so wicked, I have no good qualities, but Your causeless mercy is my only hope.” The devotee doesn’t say, “I am qualified, therefore accept me.” The devotee says, “I am unqualified, therefore I have no shelter but You.”

THE GIFT OF THE IMPERFECT PRESENT

I no longer want to wait to become pure before offering myself to Krishna. I will not postpone my love until some future moment when I imagine I’ll finally be worthy. I don’t want to trust the future so much that I miss offering my present. Krishna loves me unconditionally, and His love doesn’t depend on my achievements or my purity. He is waiting—not for my perfection, but for my consent. He is waiting for me to consent and say: “I love You now, Krishna. I place my imperfect, struggling self into Your hands. Purify me, repair me, transform me as You see fit.”

I want to serve Krishna sincerely right now—today, in this moment, with all my flaws still intact. I don’t want to miss the precious opportunity to offer my love and receive His love in the present. The future is uncertain, a promise that may never arrive. But the present is here, alive, waiting to be offered.

We trust the future too much and value the present too little. We think, “When I overcome this anartha, then I’ll truly surrender. When I become pure, then I’ll fully love Krishna.” But what if that moment never comes? What if the greatest act of devotion is not waiting until we’re perfect, but offering our broken selves right now?

Krishna is not waiting in your future purity. He is present in your present offering. A flawed offering given now, with honesty, touches Krishna more than a hypothetical perfect offering postponed indefinitely.

Bhakti does not ask: “How pure am I?” It asks: “Am I available?”

My prayer has transformed from a plea for rescue to a declaration of belonging: “Krishna, I am Yours—with all my imperfections, all my struggles, all my anarthas. I don’t ask You to wait for me to become pure. I ask You to accept me now and purify me Yourself. These battles are beyond me. I surrender the fight. I enter the zone of surrender, where I no longer try to fix myself but simply belong to You. Let me love You now, not later. Let me serve You today, not tomorrow. I offer You my present—imperfect, incomplete, but sincere.”

This is not giving up on spiritual growth. This is giving up on the illusion that I can achieve it alone. This is the recognition that love, not perfection, is what Krishna desires. This is the understanding that surrender is not the destination but the path itself.

RESOLVING THE PARADOX

One of the paradoxes in bhakti theology is resolving the tension between effort and grace; between sadhana (practice) and surrender (saranagati). I shall continue my external efforts and practices but internally I now resolve to surrender, to belong to Krishna.

The Bhagavad-gita presents this beautifully in the final instruction: “Abandon all varieties of dharma and simply surrender unto Me. I shall deliver you from all sinful reactions. Do not fear.” (18.66) Krishna doesn’t say “First become perfect in your dharma, then surrender.” He says abandon even your dharma—your carefully constructed spiritual efforts—and simply surrender.

This is radical. Krishna is not asking for our achievements; He’s asking for our abhimana (sense of ownership, identity). The shift in the bhakti tradition is: moving from “I must fix myself for Krishna” to “I belong to Krishna, let Him fix me.”

While practice has its place, the ultimate goal is not perfection through effort but transformation through relationship.

When a child is learning to walk and falls, the mother doesn’t say, “Perfect your walking technique, then come to me.” She extends her arms immediately. The child’s imperfect steps toward the mother are more precious than perfect steps away from her.

The mature understanding is not to abandon all effort (that would be laziness), but to relocate the foundation. You continue your sadhana, but not as a means to earn Krishna’s love—rather as a response to the love He already gives you. You still work on anarthas, but from a place of already being accepted, not to become acceptable.

That’s when practice becomes play. Effort becomes offering. Struggle transforms into relationship.

This is the wisdom of sharanagati: complete surrender doesn’t mean spiritual passivity; it means spiritual relaxation into grace. You act, but Krishna is the doer. You offer, but you know you are already accepted. You strive, but you rest in His love.

THE SHIFT FROM “FIXING” TO “BELONGING”

We need to move from a problem-centric prayer to relationship-centric prayer.

Early bhakti often sounds like: “Krishna, help me overcome this.”

Mature bhakti sounds like: “Krishna, I am Yours—do with me what You want.”

This is why the greatest prayers in our tradition are not about removal of defects, but about belonging. Ayi nanda-tanuja kinkaram patitam mam vishame bhavambudhau: “I am fallen, I am unfit—yet I belong to You.” (Sikshashtaka 5) Chaitanya Mahaprabhu does not say, “I will become pure and then be Your servant.” He says, “Even now—fallen and drowning—I am Yours.”

That is not resignation; that is radical trust.

On the other hand, when we seek to first become perfect, we are victims of perfectionism that is often a disguised form of control. There is a subtle ego hiding behind “high standards”: “If I can just get this right, I’ll finally be safe, acceptable, lovable.”

Surrender dismantles this illusion. It says: “I am lovable now—not because I am clean, but because I am His.” This is why surrender feels terrifying. It removes the last defence of self-management. But it is also why it feels relieving. The burden of becoming worthy finally drops.

LET US COME BACK TO KRISHNA

Krishna doesn’t need our perfection. He needs our love, our dependence, our willingness to be His. Our brokenness is not a barrier—it’s a gateway to intimacy with Him. We are not meant to offer Krishna our perfection; we are meant to offer Him our permission:

Permission to enter.

Permission to rearrange.

Permission to love us before we deserve it.

And that, is called saranagati.

I belong to Krishna. So today, I place my imperfect self under His care. Let Him purify me. Let Him repair me. Let me love Him now, serve Him now, and receive His love now. This moment is enough.

Vraja Bihari Dasa holds a post-graduate degree in International Finance and an MBA from Mumbai University. He is a resident monk at ISKCON Chowpatty and an active teacher of bhakti-yoga. Visit his website: www.yogaformodernage.com