Have you ever found yourself chasing something you thought would make you happy, only to realize it was leading you further away from what truly matters?
I’ve been there, and the story of the Prodigal Son has always resonated deeply with me because it captures this universal experience of losing and finding oneself.
"The greatest step toward a life of simplicity is to learn to let go."— Steve Maraboli
Let me take you through this timeless story. In the parable of the Prodigal Son, a father has two sons. The younger son, impatient to experience life on his own terms, demands his share of the inheritance while his father is still alive. The father, with remarkable generosity, agrees and gives him his portion. The younger son takes the money and leaves, eager to explore the world, to indulge in the pleasures and excitement he’s always dreamed of.
But life doesn’t go as planned. He spends all his money recklessly and soon finds himself penniless, hungry, and working in the most degrading of jobs—feeding pigs, envying even their food. It’s in this desperate state that he finally realizes the folly of his actions. He remembers the warmth and abundance of his father’s home and decides to return, not as a son, but as a servant, thinking it’s all he deserves.
As the son approaches, something remarkable happens. His father, who has been watching and waiting for his return, sees him from afar. Overcome with compassion, the father runs to his son, embraces him, and orders the servants to bring out the best robe, a ring for his finger, and sandals for his feet. He even calls for a feast to celebrate his son’s return, saying, “This son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.”
Meanwhile, the older brother, who has been faithfully working in the fields, hears the celebration and becomes angry. He refuses to join in, feeling bitter and overlooked. He confronts his father, saying, “All these years I’ve been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders, yet you never gave me even a young goat to celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours who has squandered your property comes home, you kill the fattened calf for him!”
The father gently responds, “My son, you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. But we had to celebrate because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.”
This story speaks to the human condition—the way we often seek fulfillment in external achievements, material success, or the approval of others, only to find that these pursuits can leave us feeling empty and disconnected from our true selves.
I can relate to the younger son’s journey because I’ve lived a version of it myself. There was a time when I was deeply engrossed in building and opening more yoga studios. I was chasing growth, expansion, and success, thinking that the more studios I opened, the more fulfilled I would be. But in the process, I started losing touch with the very things that had drawn me to yoga in the first place—learning, reading, writing, and teaching. I was so focused on the business side of things that I began to drift away from the essence of why I got into yoga.
It wasn’t until I felt a sense of emptiness, despite all the outward success, that I realized something was wrong. I was like the younger son, having wandered far from home, only to find that the external pursuits weren’t satisfying my deeper needs. It was then that I decided to return to the core of what made me passionate about yoga—to reconnect with my practice, my students, and the teachings that had originally inspired me.
Like the father in the parable, yoga welcomed me back with open arms. I found contentment in coming back to the basics, to the joy of teaching, learning, and growing not just as a business owner, but as a yogi and a human being.
The older brother’s story also resonates with me because, in some ways, I found myself judging my own path—wondering if I had wasted time, comparing myself to others, and feeling guilty for having strayed. But I learned that this judgment only created more separation and suffering. The true lesson is in the father’s unconditional love and acceptance, both of the younger son’s return and the older son’s struggles.
So, what about you?
Are there areas in your life where you’re like the younger son, chasing after something that may not truly fulfill you?
Or like the older son, are you holding onto judgment and resentment, keeping yourself from experiencing the joy that’s right in front of you?
What would happen if you let go of those things and allowed yourself to return to what truly matters?
Let this story be a reminder that no matter how far we wander, we can always come home—back to ourselves, to our purpose, and to the things that bring us true happiness.
Love
Sumit Banerjee
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