I am not a big fan of positive thinking. The term suggests that

The words of Srikumar Rao—“I am not a big fan of positive thinking. The term suggests that there is something negative that you have to counteract by being positive. That is an artificial duality”—speak with the quiet force of a sage who has seen beyond the illusions of surface wisdom. He does not reject hope, nor the power of light, but he warns us that the division of the world into positive and negative traps the mind in conflict. For in truth, life is whole, indivisible, flowing like a river. To fight within ourselves by naming one thought as good and another as evil is to remain forever at war in our own hearts.

The origin of this truth can be traced to the oldest philosophies. The Buddha taught that suffering arises not from the nature of things, but from our clinging to them—our insistence on dividing what is from what we wish it to be. Similarly, the Taoists of ancient China spoke of yin and yang, not as enemies but as complementary forces, flowing into each other in eternal harmony. Rao’s rejection of duality echoes these teachings: the world is not to be conquered by labeling, but to be embraced in its wholeness.

Consider the life of Marcus Aurelius, emperor and Stoic philosopher. His writings do not speak of forcing himself to think positive, but of accepting events as they are, beyond judgment. When plague struck his empire and wars pressed against its borders, he did not tell himself, “These things are bad; I must think good thoughts.” Instead, he reminded himself: “The universe is change; life is opinion.” In this acceptance lay his strength. He saw the world not through the lens of artificial duality, but through clarity and equanimity.

In more recent times, think of Viktor Frankl, who endured the horrors of the concentration camps. He did not survive by reciting empty affirmations or clinging to “positive thinking.” He survived by transcending the categories of positive and negative, by discovering meaning even in suffering. He realized that while he could not control the brutality around him, he could choose how to respond to it. This was not a war of opposites, but a surrender to a deeper truth: that meaning lies in embracing life as it is, not in fighting to call it one thing or another.

The lesson here is profound: when you cling to positive thinking, you create a shadow of negative thinking to oppose it. You divide the mind, and in that division, you weaken yourself. But when you release the need to judge, when you see experiences not as enemies but as teachers, you find peace that no circumstance can shatter. Wholeness is stronger than duality; acceptance is more enduring than resistance.

Practical wisdom urges us: do not force yourself to smile when your heart is heavy, nor to chant affirmations while denying your pain. Instead, sit with your experience. Allow it to be what it is. Ask what it teaches you, what meaning it reveals, how it shapes your growth. By doing so, you transform life not by pushing against it, but by flowing with it. This is not resignation, but liberation—the freedom to walk in the world unbroken, no matter what arises.

Thus, let Rao’s words be remembered as a guide: do not be enslaved by the false battle of positive versus negative. Step beyond the battlefield, into the field of truth, where all things have their place, and where the soul rests unshaken. For the greatest strength is not in forcing light to banish darkness, but in seeing that both are threads of the same eternal tapestry.