Greatness comes by thrashing the past
Take a metaphorical axe and cut the chain of cause and effect!
One of the most powerful realizations I’ve had through a deep study of Advaita Vedanta is this: causality is not real. This idea might sound radical at first, but once grasped, it completely shatters the shackles of the past.
It’s easy to believe that our past defines us—that our experiences, mistakes, and traumas shape our future in an unbreakable chain of cause and effect. The past can feel like a weight, gripping us with a deathlike stare, making it hard to embrace life with enthusiasm, purpose, or optimism. But what if this entire premise is an illusion?
Vedanta dismantles this illusion by exposing the nature of the mind itself. It teaches that the mind is not who we truly are. This is crucial because causality—the belief that the past determines the present—only holds weight if the mind is seen as the core of our being.
But what if the mind is just another instrument, not the self?
The Mind as a Lens: Breaking the Illusion of the Past
Think of the mind like a pair of glasses we’ve worn for so long that we’ve forgotten they’re even there. These glasses are tinted by past experiences, shaping how we see the world. If they have been scratched by trauma, we assume the world itself is harsh. If they are fogged by past failures, everything ahead appears uncertain.
But no matter how scratched, fogged, or tinted the lens is, the one looking through it remains unchanged. That seer, that conscious awareness, is who we truly are—not the lens.
Now, causality loses its grip. If we are not the mind, and the mind is just an instrument, then the past is nothing more than a distortion in the lens. It does not hold any fundamental truth about us. The moment we realize this, we step back from the stories of the past and recognize them as just stories—not chains binding us.
A few days ago, I came across a book that, through a completely different lens, arrives at a strikingly similar conclusion: The Courage to Be Disliked by Ichiro Kishimi and Fumitake Koga. Unlike Vedanta, which dismantles causality through metaphysics, this book deconstructs it through psychology, particularly Alfred Adler’s philosophy.
The book presents its insights as a dialogue between a young man and a philosopher, where the philosopher argues that the past does not determine the present. Here’s the conversation:
Young Man: I don’t understand how you can say the past doesn’t matter. If I had a traumatic childhood or a painful past, how can that not shape my present? Aren’t I a product of my past?
Philosopher: It’s a common belief, but let me ask you something: Do you think two people who have suffered the same tragic event will necessarily respond similarly?
Young Man: No, of course not. Everyone processes things differently.
Philosopher: Exactly. So, it’s not the past itself that determines your life; it’s how you interpret it and what you do with it.
Young Man: But if someone has been through trauma, doesn’t that mean they’re bound to act a certain way? A person who was abused as a child will struggle with relationships as an adult.
Philosopher: Not necessarily. The past is just data, like notes in a musical score. But you are the composer, deciding how to play the music.
Young Man: That sounds poetic, but isn’t it a bit idealistic? Psychological wounds don’t just disappear because we decide they don’t matter.
Philosopher: That’s the difference between Freud’s determinism and Adler’s teleology. Freud says your past experiences cause your present actions. Adler says you act in a way that suits the goals you set for yourself in the present.
Young Man: Goals? You mean, like ambitions?
Philosopher: Not just ambitions—everything you do is based on a goal. Even when you claim the past is holding you back, that belief serves a purpose.
Young Man: Wait… Are you saying people choose to be stuck in their past? That seems cruel.
Philosopher: It’s not about blaming people. It’s about recognizing that the past is not the real constraint. Suppose a man says, “I can’t trust anyone because I was betrayed before.” Is it really his past that’s stopping him, or is he using the past as an excuse to avoid the risk of trusting again?
Young Man: Hmm. So you’re saying he might be afraid of getting hurt again and using the past as a shield?
Philosopher: Exactly! If he recognizes that, he can choose to live differently. The past exists, but it doesn’t dictate his actions. He can decide to trust again.
Young Man: But that’s difficult!
Philosopher: Of course. But it’s possible. And if something is possible, you can work toward it.
Young Man: So you’re saying, no matter how bad my past is, I still have control over my future?
Philosopher: Not just your future—your present. Right now, you can choose a different path. You are not the sum of your experiences; you are the sum of your choices.
Breaking Free from the Illusion
This conversation lands like a hammer blow on the chains of cause and effect. The past exists, but it does not hold any real power—unless we give it power.
It’s easy to assume that past experiences are the reason we are the way we are. But if two people can go through the same hardship and emerge with completely different outlooks, then clearly, it’s not the event itself but how it’s processed that matters.
When we deeply understand that the mind is not who we are, the entire concept of causality collapses.
This realization is not just theoretical; it has deep, practical implications:
Failures don’t define you—only your next action does.
Trauma doesn’t dictate your future—only your present choices do.
Your identity is not fixed—you are free to reinvent yourself at any moment.
Vedanta, Adlerian psychology, and even modern cognitive science all point to the same truth: the past is not a force acting upon us—it is only a collection of stories we tell ourselves.
And the best part? We get to rewrite those stories.
At any given moment, we have the power to take the axe of awareness and cut the chains of cause and effect.
The past is not a prison. It is just a story.
And you are free to write a new one.